With these words, the monk left the court-yard; and as soon as the gate
had closed behind him, Ulrich approached his generous companion, and said
in a tone that only he could hear, yet grateful to the inmost depths of
his heart:

"I will repay you some day."

"Nonsense!" laughed the young count, throwing his arm over the shoulder
of the artisan's son. "If the glass wouldn't rattle, I would throw now;
but there's another day coming to-morrow."




CHAPTER VII.

Autumn had come. The yellow leaves were fluttering about the school
play-ground, the starlings were gathering in flocks on the church roof
to take their departure, and Ulrich would fain have gone with them, no
matter where. He could not feel at home in the monastery and among his
companions. Always first in Richtberg, he was rarely so here, most
seldom of all in school, for his father had forbidden the doctor to
teach him Latin, so in that study he was last of all.

Often, when every one was asleep, the poor lad sat studying by the ever-
burning lamp in the lobby, but in vain. He could not come up with the
others, and the unpleasant feeling of remaining behind, in spite of the
most honest effort, spoiled his life and made him irritable.