monk’s cowl.  Doubt, suffering, and a miraculous escape from terrible peril had inspired the joyous-hearted Heinz with the desire to renounce the world.  Now, perhaps, Heaven itself was showing him that he had not received the boon of life to bury himself in a monastery, but to be blessed with the fairest and noblest of gifts, the love of a woman who, in his opinion, had not her equal beneath the wide vault of the azure sky.

Countess Cordula was not suited for his master.  During the long hours that he lay quietly on his pallet a hundred reasons strengthened this opinion.  The man for whom he had steadfastly endured such severe agony, and was suffering still, was worthy of a more beautiful, devout, and calm companion-nay, the very loveliest and best—­and that, in his eyes, was the girl for whom Heinz had felt so overmastering a passion just before his luckless winnings at the gaming table.  This potent fire of love might doubtless be smothered with sand and ashes, but never extinguished.

Such were Biberli’s thoughts as he recalled the events of the previous day.  He had found Eva less equable in her tender management than usual.  Some anxiety concerning something apart from her patients seemed to oppress her.  True, she had not wished to reveal it, but his eyes were keen.

Soon after sunrise that morning she had carefully rebandaged his crushed thumb, which was not yet healed.  Then she had gone away, as she assured him, for only a few hours.  Now the sun was already high in the heavens, yet she did not return, though it was long past the time for the bandages to be renewed, and the drops to be given which sustained the life of the dying Minorite in the adjoining room.  It made him uneasy, and when anxiety had once taken root in his heart it sent its shoots forward and backward, and he remembered many things in which Eva had been different the day before.  Why had she whispered so long with Herr Pfinzing and then looked so sorrowfully at him, Biberli?  Why had Frau Christine come not less than three times yesterday afternoon, and again in the evening?  She had some secret to discuss with the surgeon Otto.  Had any change taken place in his condition? and did the leech intend to amputate his thumb, or even his hand?  But, no! only yesterday he had been assured that he could save all five fingers, and his sorely mangled left foot too.  The widow was better, and all hope of saving the Minorite’s life had been relinquished two days ago.  Eva’s anxiety must have some other cause, and he asked himself, in alarm, whether she could have received any bad news from his master or Katterle?

A terrible sense of uneasiness overpowered him, and the necessity of confiding it to some one took such possession of the loquacious man that he called little Walpurga from the next room.  But instead of running to his bedside, she darted forward with the joyful cry, “She is coming!” towards the door and Eva.