"I will go and look at it, whilst thou goest back to the Hohentwiel, and sendest over two men with hatchets. And tell Otfried the deacon of Singen to come and bring his stole and mass-book with him." Audifax bounded away, whilst Ekkehard went up to the top of the Hohenkrähen. In the castle on the Hohentwiel, the Duchess had been sitting meanwhile taking her midday meal. She had often looked about, as if something were missing. The meal was soon over, and when Dame Hadwig found herself alone with Praxedis she began: "How dost thou like our new teacher, Praxedis?" The Greek maid smiled. "Speak," said the Duchess in a commanding voice. "Well I have seen many a schoolmaster before this, at Constantinopolis," said Praxedis flippantly. Dame Hadwig threatened her with her finger, "I shall have to banish thee from my sight, if thou indulgest in such irreverent speeches. What hast thou to say against schoolmasters?" "Pardon me," said Praxedis. "I did not mean any offence. But whenever I see such a bookman, wearing such a very serious expression, and assuming such an important air, drawing out of his manuscript some meaning which we have already nearly guessed; and when I see how he is bound up in his parchments, his eyes seeing nothing but dead letters, having scarcely a look to spare for the human beings around him,--then I always feel strongly tempted to laugh. When I am in doubt whether pity would be the proper feeling, I take to laughing. And he certainly does not require my pity, as he knows so much more, than I do." "A teacher must be serious," said the Duchess. "Seriousness belongs to him, as the snow does to our Alps." "Serious,--ah well! in this land where the snow covers the mountain-peaks, everything must be serious," resumed the Greek maid. "If I were only as learned as Master Ekkehard to be able to express all that I want to say! I mean that one can learn many things jestingly, without the sweat-drops of hard labour on one's brow. All that is beautiful ought to please, and be true, at the same time. I mean that knowledge is like honey, which can be got at in different ways. The butterfly hovers over the flowers and finds it; but such a learned German appears to me like a bear, who clumsily puts his paws into a bee-hive and then licks them. I for my part don't admire bears." "Thou art a frivolous minded maiden and not fond of learning. But how does Ekkehard please thee otherwise,--I think him very handsome." Praxedis looked up at her mistress. "I have never yet looked at a monk, to see whether he were handsome." "Why not?" "Because I thought it quite unnecessary." "Thou givest queer answers to-day," said Dame Hadwig, getting up from her seat. She stepped to the window and looked out northwards; where from the dark fir-trees rose the heavy mass of the steep, rocky Hohenkrähen. "The goat-boy has just been here, and has told some of the men to go over," said Praxedis.