paled again. She had formerly gazed around her boldly enough, but now
she lowered her eyes to the floor as modestly as any demure maiden on her
way to church.

And what did this mean?

The honourable member of the Nuremberg Council must be well acquainted
with the girl, for his eyes had scarcely met hers ere a strange smile
flitted over his grave, manly face.

Now--was it in jest or earnest?--he even shook his finger at her. He
stopped in front of her a moment, too, and Dietel heard him exclaim:

"So here you are! On the highway again, in spite of everything?"

The distance which separated them and the loud talking of the guests
prevented the waiter's hearing her reply, "The captive bird can not
endure the cage long, Herr Lienhard," far less the words, added in a
lower tone:

"Yet flight has been over since my fall at Augsburg. My foot lies buried
there with many other things which will never return. I can only move on
wheels behind the person who takes me." Then she paused and ventured to
look him full in the face. Her eyes met his beaming with a radiant
light, but directly after they were dimmed by a mist of tears. Yet she
forced them back, though the deep suffering from which they sprung was
touchingly apparent in the tone of her voice, as she continued:

"I have often wished, Herr Lienhard, that the cart was my coffin and the
tavern the graveyard."