“You have earned them well,” Malcolm replied, handing them to her.

“Now mind,” she said, “you must not count on me farther.  I don’t know what you are going to do, and I don’t want to know.  I have run quite a risk enough as it is, and mean, directly the count is lodged in the prison, to make my way home, having collected a dowry which will enable me to buy a farm and marry my bachelor, who has been waiting for me for the last three years.  His father is an old curmudgeon, who has declared that his son shall never marry except a maid who can bring as much money as he will give him.  I told Fritz that if he would trust to my wits and wait I would in five years produce the dowry.  Now I have treble the sum, and shall go off and make Fritz happy.”

“He is a lucky fellow,” Malcolm said laughing.  “It is not every one who gets beauty, wit, and wealth all together in a wife.”

“You are a flatterer,” the girl laughed; “but for all that I think myself that Fritz is not unfortunate.”

“And now tell me,” Malcolm asked, “at what time is the sentry generally changed?”

“At sunrise, at noon, at sunset, and at midnight,” the girl replied; “but what is that to you?”

“Never mind;” Malcolm laughed; “you know you don’t want to be told what I’m going to do.  I will tell you if you like.”

“No, no,” the girl replied hurriedly.  “I would rather be able to always take my oath on the holy relics that I know nothing about it.”

“Very well,” Malcolm replied; “then this afternoon I will call.”

Having hidden away under his doublet the suit of boy’s clothes, and with the tools of his trade in a small basket in his hand, Malcolm presented himself at three o’clock in the afternoon to the sentry at the door leading to the count’s apartments.  The soldier glanced at the pass and permitted him to enter without remark.

The waiting maid met him inside and conducted him upstairs, and ushered him into a spacious apartment, in which the count was lying on a couch, while the countess and Thekla sat at work beside him.  She then retired and closed the door after her.  The count and Thekla looked with surprise at the young artisan, but the countess ran to meet him, and threw her arms round his neck as if she had been his mother, while Thekla gave a cry of delight as she recognized him.

“Welcome a thousand times!  Welcome, my brave friend!” the countess exclaimed.  “What dangers must you not have encountered on your way hither to us!  The count and Thekla knew not that I had written to you, for I feared a failure; and when I learned yesterday that you had arrived I still kept silence, partly to give a joyful surprise to my lord today, partly because, if the governor called, I was sure that this child’s telltale face would excite his suspicion that something unusual had happened.”

“How imprudent!” the count said, holding out his hand to Malcolm.  “Had I known that my wife was sending to you I would not have suffered her to do so, for the risk is altogether too great, and yet, indeed, I am truly glad to see you again.”