The officers stared, laughed again, then whispered together,
and Findelkind heard them say the word "crazed." Findelkind,
whose quick little ears were both strained like a mountain
leveret's, understood that the great men were saying among
themselves that it was not safe for him to be about alone, and
that it would be kinder to him to catch and cage him,--the
general view with which the world regards enthusiasts.

He heard, he understood; he knew that they did not mean to help
him, these men with the steel weapons and the huge steeds, hut
that they meant to shut him up in a prison--he, little free-born,
forest-fed Findelkind. He wrenched himself out of the soldier's
grip, as the rabbit wrenches itself out of the jaws of the trap
even at the cost of leaving a limb behind, shot between the
horses' legs, doubled like a hunted thing, and spied a refuge.
Opposite the avenue of gigantic poplars and pleasant stretches of
grass shaded by other bigger trees, there stands a very famous
church, famous alike in the annals of history and of art,--the
church of the Franciscans, that holds the tomb of Kaiser Max,
though, alas! it holds not his ashes, as his dying desire was
that it should. The church stands here, a noble, sombre place,
with the Silver Chapel of Philippina Wessler adjoining it, and in
front the fresh cool avenues that lead to the river and broad
water-meadows and the grand Hall road bordered with the painted
stations of the Cross.

There were some peasants coming in from the country driving
cows, and some burghers in their carts, with fat, slow horses;
some little children were at play under the poplars and the elms;