Benedictus opened the wooden gate, and pushed Ulrich into the playground.

The noise there had been loud enough, but at his entrance the game
stopped, and his future companions nudged each other, scanning him with
scrutinizing glances.

The monk beckoned to several of the pupils, and made them acquainted with
the smith's son, then stroking Ulrich's curls again, left him alone with
the others.

On St. John's day the boys were given their liberty and allowed to play
to their hearts' content.

They took no special notice of Ulrich, and after having stared
sufficiently and exchanged a few words with him, continued their
interrupted game of trying to throw stones over the church roof.

Meantime Ulrich looked at his comrades.

There were large and small, fair and dark lads among them, but not one
with whom he could not have coped. To this point his scrutiny was first
directed.

At last he turned his attention to the game. Many of the stones, that
had been thrown, struck the slates on the roof; not one had passed over
the church. The longer the unsuccessful efforts lasted, the more evident
became the superior smile on Ulrich's lips, the faster his heart
throbbed. His eyes searched the grass, and when he had discovered a
flat, sharp-edged stone, he hurriedly stooped, pressed silently into the
ranks of the players, and bending the upper part of his body far back,