been hard, for though comparatively rich, Christopher and Hubert were
laborious men from habit, and the elder at length leaned his head on
the table to rest a moment, and think what could be done. Hubert also
leaned his brow on his hand, and it might be the sight of that old
volume, in spite of themselves, brought faraway memories crowding back
on both. They thought of the German city where they had been born; of
their long-dead father; and, last of all, of Gottleib. They knew the
grass was long upon his German grave; but suddenly, as wild and vague
regrets for all that had come and gone began to rise upon them, the
door of their room was opened, and there entered a stranger of most
noble presence and aspect, who, without a word, drew back the table
and seated himself between them.

The brothers were astonished; but when he said in their own German
tongue: 'Friends, why do you muse so silently?' his voice sounded in
their ears like the church-bells of Augsburg.

'We have cause for silence and musing, friend,' said Christopher.

'And what is your business with us?' demanded the fiery Hubert.

'I have come,' said the stranger, 'to shew you a rare and curious
sight which lies in your very neighbourhood, though you never saw it,
not having yet reached the ground from which it is rightly seen.'

'We have no time for sights at this late hour,' cried Hubert.

'Our accounts and goods occupy us now, but we will go to-morrow,' said
Christopher.