Thus ended the tale of poor Gertrude; but before I had half told it my
wrath had cooled. For my aunt sat in silence, listening to me with
devout attention. Nor were my eyes dry, nor even those of that strong-
willed dame, and when, at the end, I said: "Well, Aunt?" she woke, as it
were, from a dream, and cried out: "And yet those craftsmen folk robbed
me of my son, my only child!"

And she sobbed aloud and hid her face in her hands, while I knelt by her
side, and threw my arms about her, and kissed her thin fingers which
covered her eyes, and said softly, as if by inspiration: "But the
craftsman loved his child; yea, and she was a sweet and lovely maid, the
fairest in all the town, and her father's pride. And what was it that
snatched her so early away but that she pined for your son? Gotz may
soon be recalled to his mother's arms; but the coppersmith may never see
his child--fair Gertrude, the folks called her--never see her more. And
he might have been rejoiced in her presence to this day if...."

She broke in with words and gestures of warning, and when I nevertheless
would not cease from entreating her no longer to harden her heart, but to
bid her son come home to her, who was her most precious treasure, she
commanded me to quit her chamber. Such a command I must obey, whether I
would or no; nay, while I stood a moment at the door she signed to me to
go; but, as I turned away, she cried after me: "Go and leave me, Margery.
But you are a good child, I will tell you that!"

At supper, which I alone shared with my uncle and the chaplain, I told my
uncle that I had spoken to his wife of Master Pernhart, and when be heard
that I had even spoken a good word for him, he looked at me as though I
had done a right bold deed; yet I could see that he was highly pleased