standing behind the hunting-pages, remarked a little leaden locket hanging on a silk string around the horse-dealer’s neck, and, since no better topic of conversation offered itself, he asked him what it signified and what was in it.  Kohlhaas answered, “Oh, yes, worshipful Sir, this locket!” and with that he slipped it from his neck, opened it, and took out a little piece of paper with writing on it, sealed with a wafer.  “There is a strange tale connected with this locket.  It may be some seven months ago, on the very day after my wife’s funeral—­and, as you perhaps know, I had left Kohlhaasenbrueck in order to get possession of Squire Tronka, who had done me great wrong—­that in the market-town of Jueterbock, through which my expedition led me, the Elector of Saxony and the Elector of Brandenburg had met to discuss I know not what matter.  As they had settled it to their liking shortly before evening, they were walking in friendly conversation through the streets of the town in order to take a look at the annual fair which was just being held there with much merry-making.  They came upon a gipsy who was sitting on a stool, telling from the calendar the fortunes of the crowd that surrounded her.  The two sovereigns asked her jokingly if she did not have something pleasing to reveal to them too?  I had just dismounted with my troop at an inn, and happened to be present in the square where this incident occurred, but as I was standing at the entrance of a church, behind all the people, I could not hear what the strange woman said to the two lords.  The people began to whisper to one another laughingly that she did not impart her knowledge to every one, and to crowd together to see the spectacle which was preparing, so that I, really more to make room for the curious than out of curiosity on my part, climbed on a bench behind me which was carved in the entrance of the church.  From this point of vantage I could see with perfect ease the two sovereigns and the old woman, who was sitting on the stool before them apparently scribbling something down.  But hardly had I caught sight of them, when suddenly she got up, leaning on her crutches, and, gazing around at the people, fixed her eye on me, who had never exchanged a word with her nor ever in all my life consulted her art.  Pushing her way over to me through the dense crowd, she said, ’There!  If the gentleman wishes to know his fortune, he may ask you about it!’ And with these words, your Worship, she stretched out her thin bony hands to me and gave me this paper.  All the people turned around in my direction, as I said, amazed, ’Grandam, what in the world is this you are giving me?’ After mumbling a lot of inaudible nonsense, amid which, however, to my great surprise, I made out my own name, she answered, ’An amulet, Kohlhaas the horse-dealer; take good care of it; some day it will save your life!’—­and vanished.  Well,” Kohlhaas continued good-naturedly, “to tell the truth, close as was the call in Dresden, I did not lose my life; but how I shall fare in Berlin and whether the charm will help me out there too, the future must show.”