roperty of others.

So long as the Emperor held his court at Nuremberg, Wolff, against whom
no accuser had yet appeared, must remain concealed. When the sovereign
had left the city he might again mingle with his fellow-citizens. An
imperial letter alluding to the gratitude which Rudolph owed to the
soldiers of Marchfield, to whose band the evildoer belonged, and the
whole good city of Nuremberg for the hospitable reception tendered to
him and his household, should shield from punishment the young patrician
who had only drawn his sword in self-defence, and fulfil the petition of
the Council for Wolff Eysvogel's restoration to the rights which he had
forfeited.

The news of this promise gave Els the first happy hour after long days
of discomfort and the most arduous mental conflict. True, the measures
adopted by her friends seemed to have guarded her from the attacks of
the old Countess Rotterbach; but Fran Rosalinde, since she had been
allowed more freedom to move about than her mother, who had been
confined to the upper story, felt like a boat drifting rudderless down
the stream. She needed guidance and, as Els now ruled the house, asked
direction from her for even the most simple matters. Clinging to her
like a child deserted by its nurse, she told her the most hostile and
spiteful remarks which the countess never failed to make whenever it
suited her daughter to bear her company. During the last few days the
old lady had again won Rosalinde over to her side, and in consequence an
enmity towards Els had sprung up, which was often very spiteful in its
manifestations, and was the more difficult to bear, the more rigidly her
position as daughter of the house forbade energetic resistance.

But most painful of all to the volunteer nurse was the sick man's
manner; for though Herr Casper rarely regained perfect consciousness, he
showed his unfriendly disposition often enough by glances, gestures, and
words stammered with painful effort.

Yet the brave girl's patience seemed inexhaustible, and she resolutely
performed even the most arduous tasks imposed by nursing the sufferer.
Nay, the thought that Wolff owed his life to him aided her always to
be kind to her father-in-law, no matter how much he wounded her, and to
tend him no less carefully than she had formerly cared for her invalid
mother.

So she had held out valiantly until, at the end of a long, torturing
week, something occurred which destroyed her courage. On ret