nishment,
gazed up at him. Karl started to his feet, and instinctively put
himself in an attitude of defence.

"Do not be alarmed, my young friends," said the gentleman. "I wish to
serve you rather than to do you any harm. What is that book you are
reading from, little maiden?"

"The Bible, sir, God's word," answered Meta, without hesitation.

"A very blessed book, and a very blessed message it contains," observed
the gentleman. "But how came you young foresters to possess it, and to
learn to read it?"

"I learned at Herr Gellet's school," answered Meta, "and a good man who
came by this way, sold us the book at a small price. It is worth ten
times the sum we gave, I am sure of that."

"And where do you live?" asked the gentleman.

Meta told him.

"And is your grandfather sick, that he is not with you?" he inquired.

"Alas! he has been cast into prison for listening to a preacher of God's
word," said Meta, "and we know not what they are going to do with him,
whether they will burn him, as they have done others, or keep him shut
up."

The nobleman, for such by his appearance they supposed him to be,
continued looking with great interest at Meta, while she was speaking.
Having made further inquiries about the old woodcutter, he joined
several of his companions who had been standing all the time at a little
distance, scarcely perceived till now by Meta and Karl. One of them had
been holding his horse, which he mounted, and rode away, conversing with
him through the forest.

Karl having made up his fagots, proceeded homewards, talking with Meta
as they went, about the interview with the nobleman, and wondering who
he could be. "I wonder whether he is the Count Furstenburg, whose
castle is, I know, some short distance off, though I have never been up
to it. I have several times seen the tops of the towers over the trees.
Yet whenever I have heard his name mentioned he has been spoken of as a
fierce, cruel lord, tyrannical both to his dependants and even to those
of his own family. I know I have heard of all sorts of bad things about
him, but grandfather never likes to speak of him."

"Then I am sure that noble cannot be the Count Furstenburg," said Meta:
"he spoke so gently and looked so kindly at us."

Scarcely had they entered their cottage than they heard horses' hoofs
approaching it. Karl ran out to see who it was, while Meta was
preparing the supper.

"Oh, Meta!" exclaimed Karl, running back, "