darkened and he lifted his eyes from the Cross. He had remembered his
message.

"Does the tall English Herr live here, who goes to Professor Müller's
each day in the Anlage? Is he at this time within? I have a cartel for
him."

Then I told him that the English Herr was no Schläger-player, though
like the lion for bravery in fighting, as my brother had been witness.

"But what is the cause of quarrel?" I asked.

"The cause," he said, "is only that particular great donkey, Hellmuth.
He came swaggering to-night along the New Neckar-Bridge as full of beer
as the Heidelberg tun is empty of it. He met your Herr under the lamps
where there were many students of the corps. Now, Hellmuth is a beast of
the Rhine corps, so he thought he might gain some cheap glory by pushing
rudely against the tall Englander as he passed.

"'Pardon!' said the Englishman, lifting his hat, for he is a gentleman,
and of his manner, when insulted, noble. Hellmuth is but a Rhine
brute--though my cousin, for my sins.

"So Hellmuth went to the end of the Bridge, and, turning with his
corps-brothers to back him, he pushed the second time against your
Herr, and stepped back so that all might laugh as he took off his cap to
mock the Englishman's bow and curious way of saying 'Pardon!'

"But the Englander took him momently by the collar, and by some art of
the light hand turned him over his foot into the gutter, which ran