city-dressed men were capable of doing, had a natural distrust of the
species.

"And pray, sir, what may your errand be?" she asked sternly, taking
the burning pine-knot from its crack and holding it close to the face
of the tallest stranger.

"My name is Hahn, madam," answered the person whose broad expanse of
countenance was thus suddenly illuminated, "and this is my son, Mr.
Fritz Hahn. Allow me to assure you, madam, that our errand here is a
most peaceful and friendly one, and that we deeply regret it, if our
presence incommodes you."

"Ilka, light the candles," said Mother Uberta, sullenly. "And you,"
she continued, turning again to Mr. Hahn, "find yourself a seat, until
we can see what you look like."

"What a vixen of an old woman!" whispered the proprietor of the "Haute
Noblesse" to his son, as they seated themselves on the hard wooden
bench near the window.

"Small chance for the 'Haute Noblesse,' I fear," responded Fritz,
flinging his travelling cap on the clean-scoured deal table.

Ilka, who in the meanwhile had obeyed her mother's injunction, now
came forward with two lighted tallow dips, stuck in shining brass
candle-sticks, and placed them on the table before the travellers. She
made a neat little courtesy before each of them, to which they
responded with patronizing nods.