The man who was ever Kubbeling’s fellow, going with him to the Levant now, as, erewhile to the far North, was Uhlwurm, who, albeit he had been old Jordan’s serving-man, was held by Seyfried as his equal; and whoso would make one his guest must be fain to take the other into the bargain.  This was ever gladly done at the Forest-lodge; Uhlwurm was a man of few words, and the hunting-lads and kennel-men held him to be a wise man, who knew more than simply which side his bread was buttered.  At any rate he was learned in healing all sick creatures, and in especial falcons, horses, and hounds, by means of whispered spells, the breath of his mouth, potions, and electuaries; and I myself have seen him handle a furious old she-wolf which had been caught in a trap, so that no man dared go nigh her, as though it were a tame little dog.  He was taller than his master by a head and a half, and he was ever to be seen in a hood, on which an owl’s head with its beak and ears was set.  Verily the whole presence of the man minded me of that nightbird; and when I think of his Master Seyfried, or Young Kubbeling, I often remember that he was ever wont to wear three wild-cats’ skins, which he laid on his breast and on each leg, as a remedy against pains he had.  And the falcon-seller, who was thick-set and broad-shouldered, was in truth not unlike a wild-cat in his unkempt shagginess, albeit free from all craft and guile.  His whole mien, in his yellow leather jerkin slashed with green, his high boots, and ill-shaven face covered with short, grey bristles, was that of a woodsman who has grown strange to man in the forest wilds; howbeit we knew from many dealings that he was honest and pitiful, and would endure hard things to be serviceable and faithful to those few whom he truly loved.

All the creatures he brought with him were for sale; even the Iceland ponies, which he but seldom led home again, by reason that they were in great favor with the Junkers and damsels of high degree in the castles where he found shelter; and my uncle believed that his profits and savings must be no small matter.

Scarce had Kubbeling and his fellow entered the court-yard, when the house wife appeared once more at my aunt’s window, and bid him come up forthwith to her mistress.  But the Brunswicker only replied roughly and shortly:  “First those that need my help.”  And he spoke thus of a wounded man, whom he had picked up, nigh unto death, by the road-side.  While, with Uhlwurm’s help, he carefully lifted the youth from under the tilt, my uncle, who had long been hoping for his advent, gave him a questioning look.  The other understood, and shook his head sadly to answer him No.  And then he busied himself with the stricken man, as he growled out to my uncle:  “I crossed the pond to Alexandria, but of your man—­you know who—­not a claw nor a feather.  As to the Schopper brothers on the other hand. . . .  But first let us try to get between this poor fellow and the grave.  Hold