dietel, the waiter, had at last been released from his confinement in the cellar, and instantly began the search for the thief in the garden with twofold zeal.

without considering how long a time had passed since he first tried to bring the culprit into the clutches of the law, he had resumed the pursuit where it was interrupted. as a thoughtless child whose bird has flown from the cage looks into the water jug to find it, he had turned the light of his lantern upon places where a kitten could not have hidden itself, and had even been to the meadow on the bank of the main to seek kuni with the widow of the thief nickel; but here the sacrament was just being given to the sufferer, and to interrupt such a ceremony would have been a great crime. his eyes were keen, and the red pinks had gleamed from the straw on which the dying woman lay in the light of the lantern, whose long pole the sexton had thrust into the soft earth of the meadow. those flowers must have come from the garden of the landlady of the pike, and she valued her pinks more than anything else. the ropedancer had gathered them for the sick woman, and certainly had not stopped at that one act of theft. how far these vagabonds' impudence went! but he, whose duty it was to look after the property of the blue pike, would spoil their pleasure in thieving.

the dog phylax had soon put him on the trail, and before any of the gentlemen could reach the groaning person dietel's triumphant shout rang from behind the oleander:

"now we've caught the pilferer, and we'll make an example of her!"

his first glance had fallen on the little bunch of pinks in the girl's hand, and the vein on his forehead swelled with wrath at this damage to his mistress's favourite flowers.

but when he shook the culprit by the shoulder and, to his surprise, met with no resistance, he threw the light of the lantern upon her face, and what he saw there suddenly troubled him, for the girl's lips, chin, and dress were covered with bright blood, and her head drooped on one side as if it had lost its support.

this frightened him, and instead of continuing to boast of his success, he called for help.

the nuremberg gentlemen soon surrounded kuni, and doctor hartmann schedel told the waiter to carry her, with the aid of his assistants, summoned by his shout, into the house and provide her with a comfortable bed.

dietel obeyed the command without delay—nay, when he heard the famous leech whisper to the other gentlemen that the sufferer's life was but a failing lamp, his feelings were completely transformed. all the charity in his nature began to stir and grew more zealous as he gazed at kuni's face, distorted by pain. the idea of giving up to her his own neat little room behind the kitchen seemed like a revelation from st. eoban, his patron. she should rest in his bed. the wanderer who, a few years ago, had scattered her gold so readily and joyously for the pleasure of others certainly would not poison it. her misery seemed to him a touching proof of the transitory nature of all earthly things. poor sufferer! yet she ought to find recovery on his couch, if anywhere; for he had surrounded it with images of the saints, pious maxims, and little relics, bought chiefly from the venders who frequented the tavern. among them was a leather strap from st. elizabeth's shoe, whose healing power he had himself tested during an attack of bilious fever.

the burden which he shared with his assistants was a light one, but he was not to reach his destination without delay—the little bunch of pinks fell from the hand of the unconscious girl, and dietel silently picked up the stolen property which had just roused his wrath to such a degree, and placed it carefully on the senseless sufferer's bosom.

the second hinderance was more serious. cyriax had heard that kuni was dying, and fearing that he might be obliged to pay the funeral expenses he stuttered to the bystanders, with passionate gestures, that an hour ago he had discharged the cripple whom he had dragged about with him, out of sheer sympathy, long enough. she was nothing more to him now than the cock in the courtyard, which was crowing to greet the approach of dawn.

but the landlord of the pike and others soon forced cyriax out of the way. kuni was laid on dietel's bed, and the gray-haired leech examined her with the utmost care.

the landlady of the pike helped to undress her, and when the good woman, holding her apron to her eyes from which tears were streaming, opened the door again and the abbot of st. aegidius approached the couch, to render aid to the dying for the second time that night, he saw by hartmann schedel's face that he had not come too soon.

the ropedancer had recovered consciousness, and the kind prelate's presence was a solace to her. the confession lasted a long time, and the story which she had to confide to the priest must have been as strange as it was interesting, for the abbot listened eagerly and with evident emotion. when he had performed the duties of his office he remained alone for a time; he could not immediately regain a mood in which he cared to rejoin the others. he did not ask for the gentlemen from cologne; those from nuremberg, whom he sought, had returned to the table in front of the tavern long before.

the waves of the main were now reflecting the golden light of the morning sun. dewdrops glittered on the grass and flowers in the meadow with the cart, and in the landlady's little garden. carriers' men were harnessing the freshly groomed bays to the pole. the brass rings on the high collars of the stallions jingled loudly and merrily, and long whiplashes cracked over the four and six-horse teams which were beginning the day's journey along the highroad.

but even the rattling of the carts and the trampling of the horses' hoofs could not rouse the cologne professors, who, with their clerical companions, had gone to rest, and slept in darkened rooms until late into the morning. most of the humbler guests had already left their straw beds.

cyriax was one of the first who followed the road. he had sold his cart and donkey, and wanted to burden his red-haired wife with his possessions, but as she resolutely refused he had taken the bundle on his own lazy shoulders. now he dragged himself and his new load onward, swearing vehemently, for ratz had remained with the cart in miltenberg, where the sham lunatic no longer found it safe to stay. this time it was he who was obliged to pull his wife along by the chain, for she had long refused, as if fairly frantic, to desert the dying girl who had nursed her child so faithfully. again and again the doubly desolate woman looked back toward the companion whom she had abandoned in her suffering until they reached frankfort. there gitta left cyriax and accompanied ratz. the cart in which her child had lived and died, not its repulsive owner, induced her to sever the bond which, for nine years, had bound her to the blasphemer.

the travelling scholars set off singing merrily; but the strolling musicians waited for the ship to sail down the main, on whose voyage they could earn money and have plenty to drink.

the vagrants tramped along the highway, one after another, without troubling themselves about the dying ropedancer.

"everybody finds it hard enough to bear his own cross," said jungel, seizing his long crutches. only "dancing gundel" lingered in miltenberg through sympathy in the fate of the companion who had reached the height of fame, while she, the former "phyllis," had gone swiftly downhill. it was a christian duty, she said to the blind boy who begged their bread, not to let kuni, who had once held so lofty a position, take the last journey without a suitable escort. when she heard that her former companion had received the sacrament, she exclaimed to her blind son, while slicing garlic into the barley porridge: "she will now be at rest. we shall earn a pretty penny at the mass in frankfort if you can only manage to look as sorrowful when you hold out your hand as you do now!"

the monks, the dealer in indulgences, the burghers and artisans who were just preparing to embark for the voyage down the main, gazed in bewilderment at the distinguished gentlemen who, incredible as it seemed, had actually—for dietel said so—foregone their morning nap for the sake of a vagabond girl. the feather-curler shook his head as if something marvellous had happened when he heard the ambassador of the honourable council of his own native city, the distinguished herr lienhard groland, say to old doctor schedel:

"i will wait here with you, my venerable friend. since the poor girl can live only a few hours longer, i can join the others, if i hurry, before they leave frankfort."

"that's right, lienhard," cried wilibald pirckheimer, and the abbot of st. aegidius added approvingly:

"you will thereby do something which is pleasing in the sight of heaven. yes, gentlemen, i repeat it: there are few deathbeds beside which i have found so little reason to be ashamed of the fate of being a mortal as by the humble couch of this vagabond girl. if, before the judgment seat above, intention and faith are weighed with the same scales as works, few who close their eyes behind silken curtains will be so sure of a favourable sentence as this poorest of the poor."

"did the girl really keep no portion of herr lienhard's rich gift for herself?" asked the nuremberg imperial magistrate.

"nothing," replied the abbot. "she gave the whole, down to her last copper, to the stranger, though she herself must remain here, poor, lame, and deserted—and she had only met the sick woman by accident upon the highway. my duty forbids me to repeat the details, and how she bore herself even while at augsburg, but, thanks to the confession which i have just received, i shall count this morning among those never to be forgotten. o gentlemen, death is a serious matter, and intercourse with the dying is the best school for the priest. then the inmost depths of the soul are opened to him."

"and," observed wilibald pirckheimer, "i think the psychologist would then learn that, the deeper we penetrate the human breast, the darker is the spectacle."

"yes, my learned friend," the abbot answered, "but we also perceive that the deepest and darkest shafts contain the purest specimens of gold and silver ore."

"and were you really permitted to find such in this neglected vagabond, reverend sir?" asked doctor eberbach, with an incredulous smile.

"as certainly," answered the prelate with repellent dignity, "as that the saviour was right when he called those who were pure in heart blessed above those who were wise and overflowing with knowledge!"

then, without waiting for the thuringian's answer, he hastily turned to the young ambassador and begged him to grant the dying girl, who clung to him with tender devotion, a brief farewell.

"willingly," replied lienhard, requesting the physician to accompany him.

the latter had just beckoned doctor peutinger to his side, to examine with him the indulgence which he had found under the kerchief crossed over the sick girl's bosom. it did not secure redemption from the flames of purgatory for the ropedancer's soul, as the gentlemen expected, but for another, and that other—the learned humanist and imperial councillor would not believe his own eyes—was his beloved, prematurely lost child. there, in large letters, was "juliane peutinger of augsburg."

astonished, almost bewildered, the usually quiet statesman expressed his amazement.

the other gentlemen were preparing to examine the paper with him, when the abbot, without betraying the secret of kuni's heart, which she had confided to him in her confession, told juliane's father that the ropedancer had scarcely left the convent ere she gave up both the emperor's gift and the viaticum—in short, her whole property, which would have been large enough to support her a long time—in order to do what she could for the salvation of the child for whom her soul was more concerned than for her own welfare.

the astonished father's eyes filled with tears of grateful emotion, and when lienhard went with the gray-haired leech to the dying girl doctor peutinger begged permission to accompany them. the physician, however, requested him to remain away from the sufferer, who would be disturbed by the sight of a strange face. then peutinger charged his young friend to give kuni his kind greetings and thank her for the love with which she had remembered his dear child.

the young councillor silently followed the physician to the sick bed, at whose head leaned a gray sister, who was one of the guests of the blue pike and had volunteered to nurse the patient.

the nun shook her head sorrowfully as the two men crossed the threshold. she knew how the dying look, and that the hand of death already touched this sufferer. yet her kind, colourless face, framed by the white sides of her cap, quickly regained its usual quiet, placid expression.

the regular features, now slightly flushed with the fever, of the patient in her charge, on the contrary, were constantly varying in expression. she had noticed the entrance of the visitors, and when she opened her sparkling blue eyes and saw the person to whom her poor heart clung with insatiable yearning they were filled with a sunny radiance, and a smile hovered round her lips.

she had known that he would come, that he would not let her die without granting her one more glance.

now she would fain have nodded to him and expressed in very, very appropriate words the delight, the embarrassment, the gratitude which filled her soul, but her panting chest could give no breath for utterance. nay, extreme exhaustion even prevented the movement of her lips. but her heart and brain were by no means inactive. a wealth of internal and external experiences, long since forgotten, rose before her mind. first she fancied that she saw lienhard, as at their first meeting, approaching the garlanded door of st. sebald's with his beautiful bride, arrayed in her wedding robes. then she was transported to the court room and felt his hand stroke her hair. the hours at frau schurstab's when she had awaited his visits with an anxious heart came back to her memory. then she again saw herself upon the rope. lienhard was toying with the little elf below. but what she beheld this time was far from awakening new wicked wishes, for juliane once more wore her laurel crown and beckoned kindly to her like a dear, familiar friend. finally, pale little juli appeared, as if shrouded in mists. last of all, she saw herself filling the jug for the sick woman and gathering the red pinks for her and lienhard in the landlady's little garden by the shimmering starlight. the flowers, whose fragrance was too strong, yet which she had not the strength to remove, lay on the coverlet before her. they were intended for lienhard, and as she stretched her slender fingers toward them and tried to clasp them she succeeded. she even found strength to hold out her right hand to him with a beseeching glance. and lo! ere her arm fell again the proud man had seized the flowers. then she saw him fasten the pinks on the breast of his dark doublet, and heard the thrill of deep emotion in his voice, as he said:

"i thank you, dear kuni, for the beautiful flowers. i will keep them. your life was a hard one, but you have borne the burden bravely. i saw this clearly, and not i alone. i am also to thank you and give you very friendly remembrances in the name of doctor peutinger, of augsburg, little juliane's father. he will think of you as a mistress of your art, a noble, high-minded girl, and i—i shall certainly do so."

he clasped her burning hand as he spoke; but at these words she felt as she had probably done a few hours before, when, hidden behind the oleander, she listened to the conversation in which he mentioned her kindly. again a warm wave of joy seemed to surge upward in her breast, and she fancied that her heart was much too small for such a wealth of rapture, and it was already overflowing in hot waves, washing all grief far, far away.

her gift had been accepted.

the red pinks looked at her from his doublet, and she imagined that everything around was steeped in rosy light, and that a musical tinkling and singing echoed in her ears.

never had she experienced such a feeling of happiness.

now she even succeeded in moving her lips, and the man, who still held her little burning hand clasped in his first heard his own name very faintly uttered; then her parched lips almost inaudibly repeated the exclamation: "too late!" and again, "too late!"

the next instant she pressed her left hand upon her panting breast. the rosy hue around her blended with the red tint of the pinks, and another haemorrhage bore the restless wanderer to that goal where every mortal journey ends.