At last they moved forward. The others might treat them as they chose;
he, at least, would neither say anything to them nor bow before them as
the ears did before Joseph in Holy Writ. Nevertheless, he looked out of
the corner of his eye at them as he took from the basket of the round-
checked kitchen maid, who had now found her way to him, one fresh brown
roll after another, and placed them beside plate after plate. How well
risen and how crusty they were! They fairly cracked under the pressure
of the thumb, yet wheat rolls had been baked specially for the Nuremberg
party. Was God's good gift too poor for the Honourables with the gold
chains?

Now, even fragile little Dr. Eberbach, and the students and Bacchantes
who had stood around him like disciples, intently listening to his words,
bowed respectfully. The ungodly, insolent fellows who surrounded the
Dominican Jacobus, the vender of indulgences, had turned from him, while
he exhorted them, as if he were an importunate beggar. What did the
merchants, artisans, and musicians know about the godless Greek and Latin
writings which brought the names of Pirckheimer and Peutinger before the
people, yet how reverently many of these folk now bowed before them.
Only the soldiers with swords at their sides held their heads erect.
They proved that they were right in calling themselves "pious
lansquenets." The broad-shouldered knight, with the plumed hat and
suit of mail, who walked beside them, was Sir Hans von Obernitz, the
Schultheiss of Nuremberg. He was said to be a descendant of the ancient
Brandenstein race, and yet--was the world topsy-turvy?--he, too, was
listening to every word uttered by Wilibald Pirckheimer and Dr. Peutinger
as if it were a revelation. The gray-haired leech and antiquary,
Hartmann Schedel, whom Herr Wilibald,--spite of the gout which sometimes
forced a slight grimace to distort his smooth-shaven, clever, almost