"Are you a little rogue, then, or a thief?"

"You are a bad woman to think such things," said Findelkind,
hotly, knowing himself on how innocent and sacred a quest he was.

"Bad? I? Oh, ho!" said the old dame, cracking one of her new
whips in the air, "I should like to make you jump about with
this, you thankless little vagabond. Be off!"

Findelkind sighed again, his momentary anger passing; for he
had been born with a gentle temper, and thought himself to blame
much more readily than he thought other people were,--as, indeed,
every wise child does, only there are so few children--or men--
that are wise.

He turned his head away from the temptation of the bread and
fruit stalls, for in truth hunger gnawed him terribly, and
wandered a little to the left. From where he stood he could see
the long, beautiful street of Teresa, with its oriels and arches,
painted windows and gilded signs, and the steep, gray, dark
mountains closing it in at the distance; but the street
frightened him, it looked so grand, and he knew it would tempt
him; so he went where he saw the green tops of some high elms and
beeches. The trees, like the dogs, seemed like friends. It was
the human creatures that were cruel.

At that moment there came out of the barrack gates, with great
noise of trumpets and trampling of horses, a group of riders in
gorgeous uniforms, with sabres and chains glancing and plumes