To-day, however, he wore a very benign and mild expression, the result of the excellent vintage; and he dipt his drinking vessel into an open vat, held it towards the window and then slowly sipped its contents, without once observing the sleeping guest. "This also is sweet," said he, "though it comes from the northern side of the hill. Praised be the Lord; who taking the position and wants of his servants on this island, into due consideration, has given a fat year after so many meagre ones." Meanwhile Kerhildis the upper maid-servant, passed the door, carrying a tub full of grapes to the press. "Kerhildis," whispered the cellarer, "most trustworthy of all maids, take my jug, and fill it with wine from the Wartberg, which you will find over there, that I may compare it with this one." Kerhildis put down her load, went away and speedily returning, stood before Rudimann with the jug in her hand. Archly looking up at him, for he was a head taller than she was, she said: "to your health." Rudimann took a long pious draught, as a taste so that the new wine ran down his throat, with a low melodious gurgle. "It will all be sweet and good," said he, lifting his eyes with emotion, and that they then fell on the maid-servant's beaming countenance,'--was scarcely the cellarer's fault, as she had had plenty of time in which to retire. So he continued with unction: "But when I look at thee, Kerhildis, my heart becomes doubly glad, for you also thrive as the cloister-wine does this autumn, and your cheeks are like the pomegranates, waiting to be plucked. Rejoice with me, over the goodness of this wine, best of all maids." So saying, the cellarer put his arm round the waist of the dark-eyed maid, who did not resist very long; for what is a kiss at vintage-time?--and besides she knew Rudimann to be a man of sober character, who did everything in moderation, as it befitted a cellarer. The sleeper started up from his slumbers on the stone bench. A peculiar noise, which could be caused by nothing else, but by a well-meant and well-applied kiss; struck his ear; and looking through the opening between the vats, he saw the cellarer's garments covered with flowing tresses, which could not well belong to that habit. Up he sprang, for Ekkehard was young and zealous, and moreover accustomed to the strict discipline of St. Gall. The idea that a man in the holy garb of the order, could kiss a woman, had never struck him as possible before. Snatching up his strong hazel-wand, he quickly advanced, and with it struck a powerful blow at the cellarer, which extended from the right shoulder to the left hip, and which fitted like a coat made according to measure,--and before the astonished Rudimann had recovered from the first shock, there followed a second and third blow of the same description. He dropped his pitcher, which was shattered to pieces on the stone floor, whilst Kerhildis fled.