“For the black?” Heinz enquired.

“Certainly, my lord.  It’s a pity about the splendid stallion.  But, as you know, he has the staggers, and when I struck him on the coronet he stood as if rooted to the earth, and the equerry, who was there, said that the disease was proved.  So the Jew silently submitted, let the horse be led away, and paid back what we gave him.  Fifty heavy florins!  More than enough for a beginning.  If I may advise you, count on the two and the five when fixed numbers are to be thrown or hit.  Why?  Because you must turn your ill luck in love to advantage:  and those from whom it comes are the two beautiful Ortlieb Es, as Nuremberg folk call the ladies Els and Eva.  That makes the two.  But E is the fifth letter in the alphabet, so I should choose the five.  If Biberli did not put things together shrewdly—­”

“He would be as oversharp as he has often been already,” Heinz interrupted, but he patted Biberli’s wet arm as he spoke, and added kindly “Yet every day proves that my Biberli is a true and steadfast fellow; but where in the wide world did you, a schoolmaster, gain instruction in the art of throwing the dice?”

“While we were studying in Paris, with my dead foster brother,” replied the servant with evident emotion.  “But now go up, my lord, before the fire alarm, and I know not what else, makes the people upstairs separate.  The iron must be forged during this wild night.  Only a few drops of rain are falling.  You can cross the street dry even without my long garment.”

While speaking he divested the knight of his robe, and continued eagerly:  “Now, my lord, from the coffin, or let us say rather the leaden weight, which oppresses your soul, let a bolt be melted that will strike misfortune to the heart.  Glittering gold has a cheering colour.”

“Stop! stop!” Heinz interrupted positively.  “No good wishes on the eve of hunting or gaming.

“But if I come bounding down the stairs of the Green Shield with a purse as heavy as my heart is just now—­why, Biberli, success puts a new face on many things, and yours shall again look at me without anxiety.”

CHAPTER XII.

The thunderclouds had gathered in the blackest masses above the Frauenthor and the Ortlieb mansion.  Ere the storm burst the oppressive atmosphere had burdened the hearts within as heavily as it weighed outside upon tree, bush, and all animated creation.

In the servants’ rooms under the roof the maids slept quietly and dreamlessly; and the men, with their mouths wide open, snored after the labour of the day, unconscious of what was passing outside in the sky or the events within which had destroyed the peace of their master and his family.

The only bed unoccupied was the one in the little room next to the stairs leading to the garret, which was occupied by Katterle.  The Swiss, kneeling before it with her face buried in the coarse linen pillow case, alternately sobbed, prayed, and cursed herself and her recklessness.