her," Hans said laughingly; and taking a handful of roses, he softly
stroked her face with them; but her cheeks remained white.

"Rejoice, my rosebud, rejoice, my darling, for the spring will soon be
here; and with my care you will soon be well."

A half hour later, the beadle walked timidly into the council hall of
the high-gabled Council House, and said, "Honored Counselor, will you
graciously pardon me, but there is a man without who pressingly begs to
be ushered into your presence."

"Who is it?" asked the Counselor.

"It is Hans Le Fevre," answered the beadle, "but he is handsomely
attired. I hardly recognized him."

This was a great surprise to all. Hans, the runaway, the tramp, who
slipped away by night--to me. "See! see! ingeniously thought out," cried
he.

"But just to design a thing is far easier than to carry it out," said
another.

"Hans Le Fevre never did this kind of work before."

"Perhaps he has progressed," remarked the Mayor, "and possibly he would
do it cheaper than the renowned Master Artist."

This idea took root. "But," said one, "it would be an unheard of thing
to give such an exalted work to a simple boy like Hans Le Fevre, whom