The purveyor, a wily Jewish-looking fellow, who passed for an Italian, at once assented to the observations of his mistress, and added a few remarks of his own in support of them. Not so, however, the old fisherman, who overheard the conversation, having approached the abbess with the purveyor to learn her will and pleasure as to the disposal of the fish. "Nay, nay, master," he interposed, in his rough way, "not so fast, not so fast. My father fished on this river for full fifty years, and my father's father did the same; and fifty years have I drawn net here too, all in the service of the noble ladies of Schwartz-Rheindorf. Never, in that time, knew I other than this done with these fish--the one to be let free, the other to be given away among the poor. I'll do nought else with them." The abbess and the purveyor were but ill-pleased to hear what the old man said. "You must do as I bid you, Herman," said the former. "You must obey my lady, your mistress," echoed the latter. "She is too good and gracious to ye." "Not I," said the old man bluntly,--"not I. For all the broad lands on the Rhine I would not have hand, act, nor part in such a matter. Do as ye list, but I'll be none your servant in the matter." The old man walked away as he said these words, and neither the entreaties of the abbess, the threats of the purveyor, nor the interposition of some of the nuns present could bring him back. Others, however, were soon found among his companions who were less scrupulous; and the two fish were accordingly removed to the convent, and consigned to the care of the cook, to be served up for dinner that day. The dinner-hour arrived--the sisterhood were all seated at table--the servitors, marshalled by the supple purveyor, made their appearance, bearing the expected banquet in large covered dishes. A hasty grace was muttered, and then every eye was turned to the covers. The abbess had ordered the sturgeon to be served up first. "And now, sisters," she said, with a complacent look of benignant condescension, "I hope soon to know how you approve of our dinner. It is my constant study to make you happy, and my efforts are unceasing to afford you every gratification in my power. Let us begin." The covers were removed in a twinkling by the servitors, the carvers clattered their knives and forks impatiently; but what was the surprise of all, when every dish as it was uncovered was found to be empty. The wrath of the abbess rose at the sight, and the zeal of the nuns knew no bounds in seconding her indignation. The cook was hurriedly sent for. He stood before the excited sisterhood an abject, trembling wretch, far more like one who expected to be made a victim of himself, than one who would voluntarily make victims of others. "How is this, villain?" exclaimed the abbess, her face reddening with rage. "How's this, villain?" echoed threescore female voices, some of them not musical. "Ay, how is this, hound?" growled the purveyor.