"Ach! one of those men who tell such dreadful stories about kings and
princes? Who cause men to go to war with each other? Who rouse the
ignorant to deeds of violence? One of those men who are more powerful
than a king, because they can undo him?" She drew away from me.
"Hold on!" I cried, dropping the hoe; "what do you know about it?"
"Enough," sadly. "I read the papers. I always look with fear upon one
of those men who can do so much good, and yet who would do so much
evil."
I had never looked at it in that light before.
"It seems to me, Gretchen," I said quietly, "that you are about as much
a barmaid as I am a weeder of knoblauches."
The color of excitement fled from Gretchen's cheeks, her eyes grew
troubled and she looked away.
"Gretchen has a secret," said I. "It is nothing to me what Gretchen's
secret is; I shall respect it, and continue to think of her only as a
barmaid with--with a superior education." I shouldered the hoe.
"Come, let us go back; I'm thirsty."
"Thank you, Herr," was the soft reply. Then Gretchen became as dumb,
and our return to the inn was made in silence.
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