with the pure wind of heaven, and at the same time catch a few words of
the conversation between the envoys to the Reichstag.

So Dietel hobbled to the open window, where the strollers were resting.

Cyriax was lying on the floor asleep, with the brandy bottle in his arms.
Two of his companions, with their mouths wide open, were snoring at his
side. Raban, who begged for blood-money, was counting the copper coins
which he had received. Red-haired Gitta was sewing another patch of
cloth upon her rough husband's already well-mended jerkin by the dim
light of a small lamp, into which she had put some fat and a bit of rag
for a wick. It was difficult to thread the needle. Had it not been for
the yellow blaze of the pitchpans fastened to the wall with iron clamps,
which had already been burning an hour, she could scarcely have
succeeded.

"Make room there," the waiter called to the vagrants, giving the sleeping
Jungel a push with his club foot. The latter grasped his crutch, as he
had formerly seized the sword he carried as a foot soldier ere he lost
his leg before Padua. Then, with a Spanish oath learned in the
Netherlands, he turned over, still half asleep, on his side. So Dietel
found room, and, after vainly looking for Kuni among the others, gazed
out at the starlit sky.

Yonder, in front of the house, beside the tall oleanders which grew in
wine casks cut in halves instead of in tubs, the learned and aristocratic
gentlemen sat around the table with outstretched heads, examining by the
light of the torches the pages which Dr. Eberbach drew forth, one after
another, from the inexhaustible folds of the front of his black robe.