greatest artist who had ever trodden the rope. All Augsburg, all the
dignitaries of the realm, even the Emperor, would pity her, and the end
of her life would be as proud and as renowned as that of the chivalrous
hero who dies victor on the stricken field. If the early part of her
life had been insignificant and wretched, its close should be grand and
beautiful.

Long consideration was foreign to Kuni's nature. While these thoughts
were darting with the speed of lightning through her excited brain, she
stripped from the garland, with the presence of mind which her calling
teaches even in serious peril, the roses which might have caught her
feet, and swung it in a wide circle above her. Then nimbly, yet careful
to maintain in every movement the grace without which the most difficult
feat would have seemed to her valueless, she summoned all the strength
and caution she possessed, went forward at a run, and--she did not know
herself just how it was done--dared the leap over the rope once, twice,
and the third and fourth time even accomplished the turn successfully.
It had not once cost her an effort to maintain her balance.

Again she saw Loni clapping his hands at the window, and the acclamations
of the crowd, which echoed like peals of thunder from the lofty, gable-
roofed houses, informed her that the boldness of the venture and the
skill with which she had performed it were appreciated by these
spectators. True, she could not distinguish the voice of any individual,
but she thought she knew that Lienhard was one of those who shouted
"Bravo!" and clapped most loudly. He must have perceived now that she
was something more than a poor thief of a rosary, a useless bread-eater
in the Schurstab household.

She straightened the garland again and, while preparing to take another