Spain."

"But I have been in Swabia, and at that time you did me a kindness.
Would your ransom be large enough to cover the cost of a broken church
window?"

The count opened his eyes in amazement and a bright smile flashed over
his face as, clapping his hands, he exclaimed with sincere delight:

"You, you--you are Ulrich! I'll be damned, if I'm mistaken! But who the
devil would discover a child of the Black Forest in the Spanish Eletto?"

"That I am one, must remain a secret between us for the present,"
exclaimed Ulrich, extending his hand to the count. "Keep silence, and
you will be free--the window will cover the ransom!"

"Holy Virgin! If all the windows in the monastery were as dear, the
monks might grow fat!" cried the count. "A Swabian heart remains half
Swabian, even when it beats under a Spanish doublet. Its luck, Turk's
luck, that I followed Floyon;--and your old father, Adam? And Ruth--what
a pleasure!"

"You ought to know....my father is dead, died long, long ago!" said
Ulrich, lowering his eyes.

"Dead!" exclaimed the other. "And long ago? I saw him at the anvil
three weeks since."

"My father? At the anvil? And Ruth?...." stammered Ulrich, gazing at
the other with a pallid, questioning face.