do, I know.”

Karl gladly agreed to her proposal, so the next day, shutting up the cottage, they set out together. The way was rough, but Meta was well accustomed to tread it, and without encountering any danger they reached the part of the forest in which Karl usually laboured. Meta carried out her plan just as she had proposed, and Karl, though he rested longer than had been his wont, got through more work than usual. For several days she did the same, very much to her own and Karl’s satisfaction. On one occasion she was seated on a piece of timber, with her book on her knees, reading, while Karl sat on the ground at her feet, eating his frugal meal, but slowly though, for every now and then he looked up to ask her the meaning of certain passages, or to make some remark.

They were thus employed, entirely absorbed in the subject. Some slight noises reached their ears, but if their attention was drawn to them they thought they were caused by the asses which were browsing near brushing among the bushes. Meta read on. At length she stopped, when, looking up, she saw standing near her, and gazing with a look of astonishment, a gentleman in a rich hunting suit, a short sword by his side, a horn hung round his neck, and a jewelled dagger in his belt. His white beard and moustache, and his furrowed cheeks, showed that he was already advanced in life, though he looked active and strong. A pleasant smile passed over his countenance, as Meta, littering an exclamation of astonishment, gazed up at him. Karl started to his feet, and instinctively put himself in an attitude of defence.

“Do not be alarmed, my young friends,” said the gentleman. “I wish to serve you rather than to do you any harm. What is that book you are reading from, little maiden?”

“The Bible, sir, God’s word,” answered Meta, without hesitation.

“A very blessed book, and a very blessed message it contains,” observed the gentleman. “But how came you young foresters to possess it, and to learn to read it?”

“I learned at Herr Gellet’s school,” answered Meta, “and a good man who came by this way, sold us the book at a small price. It is worth ten times the sum we gave, I am sure of that.”

“And where do you live?” asked the gentleman.

Meta told him.

“And is your grandfather sick, that he is not with you?” he inquired.

“Alas! he has been cast into prison for listening to a preacher of God’s word,” said Meta, “and we know not what they are going to do with him, whether they will burn him, as they have done others, or keep him shut up.”

The nobleman, for such by his appearance they supposed him to be, continued looking with great interest at Meta, while she was speaking. Having made further inquiries about the old woodcutter, he joined several of his companions who had been standing all the time at a little distance, scarcely perceived till now by Meta and Karl. One of them had been holding his horse, which he mounted, and rode away, conversing with him through the forest.

Karl having made up his fagots, proceeded homewards, talking with Meta as they went, about the interview with the nobleman, and wondering who he could be. “I wonder whether he is the Count Furstenburg, whose castle is, I know, some short distance off, though I have never been up to it. I have several times seen the tops of the towers over the trees. Yet whenever I have heard his name mentioned he has been spoken of as a fierce, cruel lord, tyrannical both to his dependants and even to those of his own family. I know I have heard of all sorts of bad things about him, but grandfather never likes to speak of him.”

“Then I am sure that noble cannot be the Count Furstenburg,” said Meta: “he spoke so gently and looked so kindly at us.”

Scarcely had they entered their cottage than they heard horses’ hoofs approaching it. Karl ran out to see who it was, while Meta was preparing the supper.

“Oh, Meta!” exclaimed Karl, running back, “it is that dreadful man, Johann Herder, our grandfather’s great enemy! His coming bodes us no good.”

They consulted whether they should bolt the door, but Meta advised that they should show no alarm; and as Herder could easily break open the door, it would be useless to try and keep him out.

In another minute Herder entered the cottage. He cast a frowning glance around him. “Where is your grandfather?” he asked.

“I am afraid, sir, he is in prison,” answered Meta.

“Why is he there?” he asked again.

“Karl says, because he was listening to a preacher of the gospel,” answered Meta.

“He was assisting in creating a disturbance rather,” observed Herder.

“I am sure grandfather is not the man to do that,” exclaimed Karl. “I was with him, and he was as quiet as any man could be.”

“Then you ought to have been taken prisoner too,” exclaimed the farmer. “I must see to that. And what book is that you have by your side, maiden?” he asked, glancing at Meta’s Bible, which she was prepared to read.

“God’s word, sir,” said Meta, firmly. “We always read it before sitting down to meals. It is by reading it that we learn of salvation. This book says, ‘Faith cometh by hearing,’ or reading God’s word, and by faith we are saved.”

“Those are strange doctrines you are speaking,” said the rough man, yet feeling, perhaps, more than he was willing to acknowledge, the force of her words, and greatly struck by her calmness and bravery.

“They cannot be new, sir,” answered Meta, “for they were written by the apostles themselves, nor are they strange, for the same reason.”

“I came not to discuss such matters,” said Herder, turning away. “My reason for coming here was to tell your grandfather that he must move out of this cottage, as I have bought it. As he is not here, I give you the notice, and let me tell you that the opinions you utter are very dangerous. They are not such as to please the priests or bishop; take care, therefore, what you are about.” Without further words, Herder turned round, unwilling it seemed to look any longer on the young girl and her brother who had so boldly confronted him. Leaving the cottage, he mounted his horse and rode off.

The young people could not help being alarmed. It would be a sad thing to have to leave their old home, and for their grandfather, when he got out of prison, to be obliged to seek for a new one. His other threats also boded them no good. They had, however, strength the rough man knew nothing of. As soon as they were again alone, they knelt down and prayed for protection, nor failed to obtain the comfort prayer will always bring. They then returned to the table and partook of their yet untasted supper. Before it was finished, a knock was heard at the door.

“Shall I open it?” asked Karl. “Perhaps it is Herr Herder come back again.”

“Oh, no!” said Meta, “he would not knock. We should not be afraid to open the door.”

Karl withdrew the bolt, and who should he see but the book-hawker, Gottlieb Spena! They recognised him at once. He entered, and saluting them, kindly inquired for their grandfather. “I trust he has not been taken from you,” he said, with an expression of anxiety.

“Indeed he has, sir,” said Meta, “but not by death;” and in a few words she explained what had happened.

“That is very sad, but God will protect you, my children,” he observed, placing his pack, as he had before done, in a corner of the room. “We must try and obtain his liberation. The people of Germany will no longer submit to persecution. However, I trust that, by some means, your grandfather’s liberation may be obtained.”

Meta and Karl warmly thanked their friend, and begged him to partake of their humble fare. This he did, seeing that there was abundance. Suddenly he exclaimed, “I have thought of a plan. I will endeavour to gain admittance to your grandfather, and if so, I trust the means