there came to him the words of the old pastor: "She will be dearer to you than yourself. For her you would lay down your life." And Ulrich knew that his love was the village of Alt Waldnitz, where dwelt his people, the old and wrinkled, the laughing "little ones," where dwelt the helpless dumb things with their deep pathetic eyes, where the bees hummed drowsily, and the thousand tiny creatures of the day.
They hanged him high upon a withered elm, with his face towards Alt Waldnitz, that all the village, old and young, might see; and then to the beat of drum and scream of fife they marched away; and forest-hidden Waldnitz gathered up once more its many threads of quiet life and wove them into homely pattern.
They talked and argued many a time, and some there were who praised and some who blamed. But the Herr Pfarrer could not understand.
Until years later a dying man unburdened his soul so that the truth became known.
Then they raised Ulrich's coffin reverently, and the yonng men carried it into the village and laid it in the churchyard that it might always be among them. They reared above him what in their eyes was a grand monument, and carved upon it:
"Greater love hath no man than this."
*** End of Project Gutenberg etext of The Love of Ulrich Nebendahl ***
etext of The Love of Ulrich Nebendahl
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