“In her youth she had been one of the neatest maids far and wide, and had set her heart on a charcoal burner who was a sorry knave indeed, a sheep-stealer and a rogue, who came to a bad end on the rack.  But for all that Riklein never ceased to love him truly and, albeit he was dead and gone, she did not give over toiling diligently while she lived yet for him.  The priest had told her that, inasmuch as her lover had taken the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper on the scaffold, the Kingdom of Heaven was not closed to him, yet would it need many a prayer and many a mass to deliver him from the fires of purgatory.  So Riklein, span and span, day and night, and stored up all she earned, and when she lay on her death-bed, not long ago, and the priest gave her the Holy Sacrament, she took out her hoard from beneath her mattress and showed it to him, asking whether that might be enough to pay to open the way for Andres to the joys of Heaven?  And when the chaplain said that it would be, she turned away her face and fell asleep.  So do you spin your yarn, child, and let the flax on your distaff be glad assurance; and, if ever your heart sinks within you, remember old Riklein!”

“And the Farmer’s daughter in ‘Poor Heinrich,’” I said, “who gladly gave her young blood to save her plighted lord from leprosy.”

Thus had my aunt gained her end; but when she strove to carry Ann away from her home and kindred, and keep her in the forest as her own child—­ to which Master Pernhart and his mother gave their consent—­she failed in the attempt.  Ann was steadfast in her desire to remain with her mother and the children, and more especially with her deaf and dumb brother, Mario.  If my aunt should at any time need her she had but to command her, and she would gladly go to her, this very day if she desired it; howbeit duly to work out her spinning—­and by this she meant that she bore Riklein in mind—­she must ever do her part for her own folk, with a clear conscience.

Thus it was fixed that Ann should go to the Forest lodge to stay till Christmas and the New Year were past, only she craved a few hours delay that she might remove all doubt from the Magister’s mind.  I offered to take upon myself this painful task; but she altogether rejected this, and how rightly she judged was presently proved by her cast-off suitor’s demeanor; inasmuch as he was ever after her faithful servant and called her his gracious work-fellow.  When she had told him of her decision he swore, well-nigh with violence, to become a monk, and to make over his inheritance to a convent, but Ann, with much eloquence, besought him to do no such thing, and laid before him the grace of living to make others happy; she won him over to join our little league and whereas he confessed that he was in no wise fit for the life, she promised that she would seek out the poor and needy and claim the aid only of his learning and his purse.  And some time after she made him a gift of an alms-bag on which she had wrought the words, “Ann, to her worthy work-fellow.”