"Has the pastor told me falsehoods, then?" she asked at last. "He did not lie intentionally. He is a very narrow-minded man, and knows no better. He is not one of the deceivers, but of the deceived." "But he is the wisest man in the village," Ernestine objected. "In the village, yes! But do you think him wiser than your uncle?" "No, certainly not!" she whispered almost inaudibly. It seemed to her a crime to think a common man wiser than the pastor. "Well, then, let me tell you that he is not nearly as clever as you are!" "Uncle!" exclaimed Ernestine alarmed. "I tell you the truth, my child. You are now very young; but, when you are as old as the pastor, you will know much more than he does, and take a very different view of things." "Are you in earnest, uncle?" Ernestine asked eagerly, for this first flattery had not failed in its effect. "Do you think I can ever be as clever as a man?" "Most certainly! Unless I greatly err, you will be something distinguished, one of these days!" Ernestine sat bolt upright in bed, looking at her uncle with sparkling eyes. Her pale face flushed, her breath came quick. Ambition kindled in her childish nature to a burning flame. The fuel had been gathering there since her first contact with those who had treated her with contempt. Now the spark had fallen, and she was all aglow with the insidious fire which gradually consumes the whole being unless some terrible misfortune bursts open the floodgates of tears to quench the unhallowed flame. Leuthold gazed, not without secret admiration and delight, at the illuminated and inspired countenance of the child. Thus, thus he would have her look! He leaned towards her, and held out his hand. She grasped it fervently. "Uncle," she said with childish emphasis, "will you help me to be as clever and to learn as much as a man? Will you teach me the sciences which you said would make men so strong?" "Yes," replied Leuthold with seeming enthusiasm, "I will, indeed." "Promise me, dear uncle." "I promise you with all my heart that I will teach you as no woman has ever been taught before,--that I will guide and direct you until you have soared far above the rest of your sex. But you must be diligent, and discard all desires but the desire of knowledge." "Oh, I will, dearest uncle. Why should I not? What else can I wish for? I do not want to play with other children,--they laugh at me. I am too ugly and grave for them. I will live alone, and learn with you; and one day, when I know more than they, I will shame them. Oh, that will be fine!" "But I hope, my child, that you will remember your promise, and not tell any one what I have said to you to-night." "Not any one? not even Herr Heim?" "Not for the world. If I should find that you cannot hold your tongue, I will teach you nothing, and you will be as ignorant as those who laugh at you."