language, our customs, and make Germans of us; we have no hatred for Germans born. There are none of them dwelling among us; our entire population is Slavonic, and you will soon find that as a native-born German you will be kindly received everywhere. It is not so in Laibach, or where, as there, the population is mixed, and national prejudice has free sway, causing constant strife, but even there the Slavs are seldom the aggressive party."

"Then you think I can chase my butterflies alone among your woods and mountains without fear of insult? I was expressly warned in Vienna not to leave the house here without a loaded revolver in my pocket to protect me from robbers."

I was answered by a burst of laughter. "I assure you there is no tract of country in the realm of Austria as perfectly safe as ours," the Burgomaster replied. "We have had no robbery here for many years and I will guarantee you as a German against any insult, unless, indeed," he raised his voice again, and spoke very loud, "you should consort with the only Slav among us who is disloyal to his country; friendship with him would cause you to be suspected of hostility to our nation."

The young man by the window had hitherto seemed heedless of our conversation; now he arose and approached us. His flashing eyes seemed to defy each member of the circle, but their expression grew gentler as he addressed the Burgomaster. "I cannot be angry with you, Herr Burgomaster," he said gravely, but not unkindly. "Your words were offensive, but I know that you mean well by me and by the strange gentleman. You have called me a disloyal son of my country, which I am not! I am a whole-souled Austrian, but one also who can never forget that he is sprung from German and Austrian blood. You have all of you forgotten this; I am true to the German tongue and to German customs. You are the faithless ones, not I!"

"Do you want to pick a quarrel with us all, Franz?" asked the Burgomaster, regarding the young man disapprovingly.

"No, but I cannot allow you to give the strange gentleman a false idea of me. Moreover, you need not fear that I shall force my friendship upon him. I know too well that it might cause him annoyance. Good-night!" He turned upon his heel and left the room without bestowing a further glance upon the company.

When the door had closed behind him, the District Judge said: "Franz Schorn always was and always will be a most disagreeable fellow. He deserves a thrashing for his insolence in calling us all faithless."

"Your cane is just beside you in the corner; why did you not use it!" the Captain asked with a sneer. "In fact, Franz is not altogether wrong. My brother irritated him unnecessarily; he would never have forced his company upon the Herr Professor. He lives so quietly and is so reserved that he cannot be accused of officiousness."

"'Tis natural that you should espouse the cause of your future cousin," remarked the District Judge with a contemptuous emphasis upon the word "cousin."

"I should be glad to have him for my cousin; he is a thoroughly brave, honest fellow."

"But a German."

"I am half German myself, and at all events I should prefer a German to an Italian cousin. The Italians are always squinting over at Italy, and Franz is, as he says, a German-Austrian at least."

"Leave off bickering," the Burgomaster admonished his brother. "What will the Herr Professor think of us, if we quarrel so before him over our wine?"

During this short skirmish of words I took occasion to observe the two antagonists narrowly. I liked the Captain's frank, manly face and bearing, but the District Judge Foligno produced a very unpleasant impression upon me. He was a man of about forty, with a worn, sallow countenance. His features were regular; he might have been accounted handsome but for some ugly lines about his mouth, half hidden though they were by a glossy black moustache, and a false, unsteady expression in his piercing black eyes. Before his war of words with the Captain he had taken no part in the conversation, but had sat gloomily silent, with downcast eyes, smoking his long cigar and drinking far more than the others. In the short time that I had been present Mizka had twice filled his tall glass.

The Burgomaster's efforts to restore peace were unavailing; the District Judge renewed the quarrel by a malicious remark about old army officers who no longer knew what nation they belonged to. The Captain retorted angrily, more bitter words ensued, the other gentlemen presently took part in the dispute, which principally concerned the character of young Franz Schorn. The Burgomaster alone was silent; of the rest only the County Clerk, Herr Einern, sided with the Captain. While the others all agreed with the District Judge's abuse of Franz Schorn as a rough, arrogant fellow, a recreant Slav, who was detested and despised all through the countryside, and were unanimous in declaring that "old Pollenz" was perfectly right in forbidding Franz to hang around the Lonely House watching for pretty Anna, that it was the old man's patriotic duty to shield his charming daughter from Schorn's advances, the Clerk and the Captain warmly espoused his cause. The Clerk, in fact, did not mince matters, but frankly characterized as exaggerated and unjust his chief's tirade against Franz. The boldness that he showed in doing this without in the least overstepping the bounds of civility impressed me very favourably.

I was soon tired, however, of listening to a discussion which became more and more heated as time went on, concerning people of whom I had no knowledge, and therefore when I had finished my supper--an excellent one, by the way--and had emptied my glass of wine, I rose to retire, pleading fatigue from my journey.

The gentlemen probably suspected that their quarrel had driven me away, and they fell silent in some confusion while the Burgomaster said kindly: "You have chanced upon an unfortunate evening, Herr Professor. Do not suppose that such a disturbance is frequent in our little circle, and I pray you pardon any harsh words you may have heard with regard to Germans. I can assure you that we have no quarrel with any Germans, save those who should be Slavs. That we have no dislike for Germans or Germany you may see for yourself, since you hear us all speak your language among ourselves, and pray do not let this evening's experience prevent you from joining our circle in future. You will always be an honoured and welcome guest."

I pressed the good man's hand cordially and followed Mizka, who stood with lighted candle ready to show me to my room.

I thought it not indiscreet to gossip a little with pretty Mizka while she was arranging my bed, and to learn from her something regarding the gentlemen whose acquaintance I had made below, and with whom I should probably have daily intercourse during some weeks to come. I could not have sought information from a better source.

Mizka had been born in Luttach; she knew all about every inhabitant of the town, and she felt highly honored by "the gentleman's" desire to converse with her. In her gratitude she detailed all that I wished to know. I learned that the Burgomaster, Herr Pollenz, was the owner of the "Golden Grapevine," which Mizka's aunt, Frau Franzka, or rather, her husband, rented from him; he was now a guest in his own house, occupying with his brother, a pensioned captain, the entire second story.

Mizka was eloquent in praise of the two brothers, whom she described as the best and truest of men. No one could be as thoroughly kind as the Burgomaster; he was, in fact, too kind, for he was sometimes really pinched for money himself, because he could not refuse to give or to lend to the poor, and there were evil-disposed