"On and on he ran. He brushed past a tall man, but heeding him not, Martin rushed on. "'Hurry, my friend,' called out the stranger, whom he had jostled. 'Hurry, the church bell has rung; the bargain is paid.' "A malicious laugh rang in Martin's ear. He turned and saw the evil-eyed stranger, him of the black velvet cloak and red-plumed cap. "Mad with fear, Martin bounded up the church steps. He entered the house of worship; but the stranger had said truly it was too late; the bargain was due for the service was ending. Martin Mux turned to leave the church, but at the threshold he fell dead; the stranger had claimed his soul. "Since that time it has been the custom for every locksmith apprentice, whether he comes into Vienna to seek his fortunes, or whether he goes out from Vienna to other parts, to drive a nail into the stump of the larch-tree and offer up a prayer for the peace of Martin Mux's soul. That is why the old tree is so studded with nails." "What a dreadful bargain for Martin to make!" said Teresa fearfully. "How could he have given his soul away?" "He chose the easier way out of a small difficulty, and he paid dearly for it," replied Herr Müller. "It is not always the easiest way which is the wisest, after all." CHAPTER III THE FARM IN UPPER AUSTRIA THE following morning the Müller family and Teresa Runkel boarded the boat in the Canal which should take them up current to Linz. It was most exciting for Ferdinand, who had never been on the Danube before, but to Teresa it was quite usual, for she always made the journey to and from her home by way of the river. There was a great deal of excitement upon the quay--the fish boats had come in with their supply for the day, and fishermen were shouting themselves hoarse in their endeavors to over-shout their competitors. The children seated themselves in the bow of the boat that they might miss nothing of the scenery which is so delightful near Vienna, with its green banks, its thick forests and its distant mountains. "Do you know what that grim castle is, over there on the left?" asked Herr Müller. "Oh, yes," replied Teresa quickly. "That is the Castle of Griefenstein." "Then you know its history?" asked Herr Müller. "Yes, indeed," answered the child. "Sometimes the Sister who takes me home tells me, and sometimes father; but doesn't Ferdinand know it?" "No," answered the boy. "I haven't been on the river before." As if it required some explanation for his seeming ignorance. "Then tell it to him, please," said Teresa, "for it is a splendid tale." "Long ages ago, this castle belonged to a lord who was, like all noblemen of that time, very fond of adventure. Whenever the least opportunity offered to follow his king, he would take up his sword and his shield and his coat-of-mail, and hie him off to the wars.