Then he lapsed into silence, and at last, as the result of his meditations, told his mistress that there was something unusual about his insignificant self, because he earnestly desired to practise the virtues whose possession he claimed before the eyes of the people.  He had usually found the worst wine in the taverns with showy signs, and when the Lady Wendula’s daughter had embroidered those letters on the cloth for him, what he furnished the guests was also of very doubtful quality.  On his sick bed he had been obliged to place no curb upon his proneness to reflection, and in doing so had discovered that there was no virtue which can be owned like a house or a steed, but that each must be constantly gained anew, often amidst toil and suffering.  One thing, however, was now firmly established in his belief:  that his favourite virtues were really the fairest of all, because—­one will answer for all —­man never felt happier than when he had succeeded in keeping his fidelity inviolate and maintaining his steadfastness.  He had learned, too, from Fraulein Eva that the Redeemer Himself promised the crown of eternal life to those who remain faithful unto death.  In this confidence he awaited the jailers, who perhaps would come very soon to lead him into the most joyless of all apartments—­the Nuremberg torture chamber.

Then he told the ladies what he knew of the love which united Heinz and Eva.  The four Fs which he had advised his master to heed in his wooing —­Family, Figure, Favor, and Fortune—­he no longer deemed the right touch-tones.  Whilst he was forced to lie idly here he had found that they should rather be exchanged for four Ss—­Spirituality, Steadfastness, Stimulation, and Solace—­for the eyes and the heart.

All these were united in Eva and, moreover, there could be no objection to the family to which she belonged.

Thereupon he had commenced so enthusiastic a eulogy of his beloved nurse and preserver that more than once Lady Wendula, smiling, stopped him, accusing him of permitting his grateful heart to lead him to such exaggeration that the maiden he wished to serve would scarcely thank him.

Yet Eva’s personal appearance had disappointed neither the experienced mother nor the easily won daughter.  Nay, when Maria Schorlin gazed at her through the half-open door of the Minorite’s room, because she did not want to lose sight of the girl who had already attracted her on account of her hard battle in the cause of love, and who specially charmed her because it was her Heinz whom she loved, she thought no human being could resist the spell which emanated from Eva.

With her finger on her lip she beckoned to her mother, and she, too, could not avert her eyes from the wonderful creature whom she hoped soon to call daughter, as she saw Eva standing, with eyes uplifted to heaven, beside the old man’s couch, and heard her, in compliance with his wish, as she had often done before, half recite, half sing in a low voice the Song of the Sun, the finest work of St. Francis.