“If it could only be,” cried Hawermann.  “What do we not both owe that man, Zachariah, don’t you remember that when he was assistant to the clergyman at Knirkstaedt, he held an evening class during the winter, and taught reading and writing, and how kind he always was to us stupid boys?” “Yes, Charles, and how Samuel Pomuchelskopp used to get behind the stove and snore till he nearly took the roof off, while we were learning the three R’s.  Don’t you remember when we got to the rule of three in our sums, and tried to get the fourth unknown quantity?

“Ah yes, in quickness I had the best of it, but in correctness, you had.  You got on better than I did in o’thography, but in style, in writing letters, and in High German, I was before you.  And in these points I’m much improved since then, for I’ve made them my study, and of course every one has his own speshialitee.  Whenever I see the parson I feel bound to thank him for having educated me so well, but he always laughs and says he owes me far more for letting his glebe at such a good rent for him.  He is on very friendly terms with me, and if you settle down here, I’ll take you to call and then you’ll see it for yourself.”

Meanwhile they had reached Puempelhagen, and Braesig took Hawermann quite under his protection as they crossed the court-yard, and addressing the old butler, asked if his master was at home and able to see them.  He would announce the gentlemen, was the servant’s reply, and say that Mr. Farm-bailiff Braesig was there.  “Yes,” said Braesig.  “You see, Charles, that he knows me, and the Councillor knows me also—­and—­did you notice?—­announce!  That’s what the nobility always have done when any one calls on them.  My lord the Count has three servants to announce his visitors; that is to say, one servant announces to another who it is that has called, and the valet tells his lordship.  Sometimes queer mistakes are made, as with the huntsman the other day.  The first foot man announced to the second:  ‘The chief huntsman,’ and the second added the word ‘master,’ and the third announced the arrival of a ’grandmaster of the huntsmen.’  So the Count came forward very cordially to receive the strange gentleman who had come to see him, and—­he found no one but. old Tibaeul the rat-catcher.”

The butler now returned and showed the two friends into a good-sized room, tastefully, but not luxuriously furnished, and in the centre of the room was a large table covered with papers and accounts.  A tall thin man was standing beside the table when they entered; he was a thoughtful-looking, gentle-mannered man, and the same simplicity was observable in his dress as in the furniture of his room.  He appeared to be about fifty-two or three, and his hair was of an iron gray color; he was perhaps shortsighted, for, as he went forward to receive his visitors, he picked up an eye-glass that was lying on the table, but without using it:  “Ah, Mr. Braesig,” he said