[NOTE: There is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the
file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an
entire meal of them. D.W.]





A WORD, ONLY A WORD

By Georg Ebers

Volume 2.


CHAPTER VIII.

The magistrate's horses did not reach the city gate, from the monastery,
more quickly than Ulrich.

As soon as the smith was roused from sleep by the boy's knock and
recognized his voice, he knew what was coming, and silently listened to
the lad's confessions, while he himself hurriedly yet carefully took out
his hidden hoard, filled a bag with the most necessary articles, thrust
his lightest hammer into his belt, and poured water on the glimmering
coals. Then, locking the door, he sent Ulrich to Hangemarx, with whom he
had already settled many things; for Caspar, the juggler, who learned
more through his daughters than any other man, had come to him the day
before, to tell him that something was being plotted against the Jew.