In the Fire of the Forge | Page 2

carry away.
A young man with an unusually tall and powerful figure was standing
in this yard, gazing up at a window in the second story. The shadow of
the linden concealed his features and his dress, but the moon had
already seen him more than once in this very spot and knew that he was
a handsome fellow, whose bronzed countenance, with its prominent

nose and broad brow, plainly indicated a strong will. She had also seen
the scar stretching from the roots of his long brown locks across the
whole forehead to the left cheek-bone, that lent the face a martial air.
Yet he belonged to no military body, but was the son of a noble family
of Nuremberg, which boasted, it is true, of "knightly blood" and the
right of its sons to enter the lists of the tournament, but was engaged in
peaceful pursuits; for it carried on a trade with Italy and the
Netherlands, and every male scion of the Eysvogel race had the
birthright of being elected a member of the Honourable Council and
taking part in the government of Nuremberg.
The moon had long known that the young man in the courtyard was an
Eysvogel, nor was this difficult to discover. Every child in Nuremberg
was familiar with the large showy coat of arms lately placed above the
lofty doorway of the Eysvogel mansion; and the nocturnal visitor wore
a doublet on whose left breast was embroidered the same coat of arms,
with three birds in the shield and one on the helmet.
He had already waited some time in vain, but now a young girl's head
appeared at the window, and a gay fresh voice called his Christian
name, "Wolff!"
Waving his cap, he stepped nearer to the casement, greeted her warmly,
and told her that he had come at this late hour to say good-night,
though only from the front yard.
"Come in," she entreated. "True, my father and Eva have gone to the
dance at the Town Hall, but my aunt, the abbess, is sitting with my
mother."
"No, no," replied Wolff, "I only stopped in passing. Besides, I am
stealing even this brief time."
"Business?" asked the young girl. "Do you know, I am beginning to be
jealous of the monster which, like an old spider, constantly binds you
closer and closer in its web. What sort of dealing is this?--to give the
whole day to business, and only a few minutes of moonlight to your
betrothed bride!

"I wish it were otherwise," sighed Wolff. "You do not know how hard
these times are, Els! Nor how many thoughts beset my brain, since my
father has placed me in charge of all his new enterprises."
"Always something new," replied Els, with a shade of reproach in her
tone. "What an omnivorous appetite this Eysvogel business possesses!
Ullmann Nutzel said lately: 'Wherever one wants to buy, the
bird--[vogel]--has been ahead and snapped up everything in Venice and
Milan. And the young one is even sharper at a bargain,' he added."
"Because I want to make a warm nest for you, dearest," replied Wolff.
"As if we were shopkeepers anxious to secure customers!" said the girl,
laughing. "I think the old Eysvogel house must have enough big stoves
to warm its son and his wife. At the Tuckers the business supports
seven, with their wives and children. What more do we want? I believe
that we love each other sincerely, and though I understand life better
than Eva, to whom poverty and happiness are synonymous, I don't need,
like the women of your family, gold plates for my breakfast porridge or
a bed of Levantine damask for my lapdog. And the dowry my father
will give me would supply the daughters of ten knights."
"I know it, sweetheart," interrupted Wolff dejectedly; "and how gladly I
would be content with the smallest--"
"Then be so!" she exclaimed cheerily. "What you would call 'the
smallest,' others term wealth. You want more than competence, and
I--the saints know-would be perfectly content with 'good.' Many a man
has been shipwrecked on the cliffs of 'better' and 'best.'"
Fired with passionate ardour, he exclaimed, "I am coming in now."
"And the business?" she asked mischievously. "Let it go as it will," he
answered eagerly, waving his hand. But the next instant he dropped it
again, saying thoughtfully: "No, no; it won't do, there is too much at
stake."
Els had already turned to send Katterle, the maid, to open the heavy

house door, but ere doing so she put her beautiful head out again, and
asked:
"Is the matter really so serious? Won't the monster grant you even a
good-night kiss?"
"No," he answered firmly. "Your menservants have gone, and before
the maid could open----There is the moon rising