"Wretch!" cried Carl, springing up; "how
was this?"

"Spare me, my master," said the boy with
an ugly grin. "It flew out of my hand as I
tried to strike a flying bat." Carl was furious.
He struck at him several times; but the boy
avoided him, slipping under his arm, and
running again along the gunwale. Carl became
still more furious, and fell upon him once, so
violently, that the boat overturned, and they
both fell into the river. And now, Carl find-
ing that the boy could not swim, thought
no more of his mallet but grasped him, and
struck out for the bank. The current was
strong, and carried them far down; but they
came ashore, at last. They could see the
lights of the town near at hand, and Carl
walked on sullenly, bidding the boy follow
him. When they came near the town gate,
he turned and found that the boy was gone.
He called to him, and turned back a little
way, and called again; but he had no answer;
and at last he walked on, and saw the boy
no more.

Carl could not sleep that night. At daylight,
he offered nearly all the money he had
retained, for a boat, and set out alone down
the river. He thought that his mallet must
have floated, in spite of the weight of the
gold pieces, and he hoped to overtake it. But
though he looked everyway as he went along,
and though he rowed on all day without
resting, he saw nothing of it. He passed no
more islands. The banks became very desolate
and lonely. The wind dropped. The water
was dark, as if a thunder-cloud hung over it
And now the stream ran swifter, winding
between rocks like the Klar. The wall on
each side became higher and higher, and
the boat went on faster and faster, so that he
seemed to be sinking into the earth, until he
caught sight of the entrance to the cavern,
of which the stranger had spoken to him;
and at the same moment he espied his mallet
floating on a few yards in advance. But the
boat began to spin round and round in an
eddy, and he felt sick. He saw the mallet
float into the cavern; when the boat came
to the mouth, he caught at the sides and
stopped it. Peering into the darkness, he
saw small flashes of light floating in the
gloom; he could see nothing else; and
there was a great roar and rushing of water.
He was obliged to give up the pursuit; but
it was not easy to go back against the stream,
as the oars would not help him to stem the
current. He kept close to the side, however,
where the stream was weaker, and urged his
way along, by clutching at ledges and sharp
corners in the rock. In this way, he moved
on slowly all night; and, a little after dawn,
got again above the rocks, and went ashore.
He was very weak and tired. He flung himself
upon the hard ground and slept. When he
awoke, he ate a small loaf which he had
brought with him, and went on his way.

Carl wandered many a day, in those
desolate regions, and passed many forests,
and crossed rivers, and wore out his shoes,
before he found his way back to Stromthal.
His heart failed him when he came to the
dear old town. He was tempted to go back
for another three years, but he could not
make up his mind to turn away without
seeing Margaret; "and besides," thought he,
"Jacob Elsen is a good man. When he hears
that I have worked, and earned this money,
though I have it no longer, he will give me
his daughter."

He wandered about the streets, a long time
and saw many persons whom he knew, but
who had forgotten him. At last he turned
boldly into the street where Jacob lived, and
knocked at his old home. Jacob came to
the door himself.

"The 'Wanderbursche' is come home," cried
Jacob, embracing him. "Margaret's heart
will be glad."

Carl followed the tun-maker in silence. He
felt as if he had been guilty of some bad
action. He scarcely knew how to begin the
story of his lost mallet.

"How thin and pale you are!" said Jacob.
"I hope you have led a strict life? But these
fine clothes— they hardly suit a young workman.
You must have found a treasure."

"Nay," replied Carl. "I have lost all;
even the fifty gold gulden that I had earned
by the work of my hands."

The old man's face darkened. Carl's
haggard look, his fine apparel, all travel-soiled,
and his confusion and silence, awakened his
suspicions. When Carl told his story, it
seemed so strange and improbable, that he
shook his head.

"Carl," he said, "you have dwelt in evil
cities. Would to Heaven you had died when
you first learnt to shave the staves, rather
than have lived to be a liar!"

Carl made no answer; he turned away to
go out into the street again. On the threshold
he met Margaret. He did not speak to her,
but passed on, leaving her staring after him
in astonishment. All night long, he walked
about the streets of the town. He thought
of going back to the house of old Peter Schönfuss
and his daughter Bertha; but, his pride
restrained him. He resolved to go away and
seek work again, somewhere at a distance.
But his unkindness to Margaret smote him;
and he wished to see her again before he
went. He lingered in the street after
daylight, until he saw her open the door; then
he went up to her.

"O Carl!" said Margaret, "this then is
what I have for three long years looked
forward to!"

"Listen to me, Margaret dear!" urged Carl.

"I dare not," said Margaret. "My father
has forbidden me. I can only bid you farewell,
and pray that my father may find, one
day, he is wrong."

"I have told him only the truth," cried
Carl: but Margaret went in, and left him