The old Freiherr had approached the picture to examine it; suddenly he started, his sad eyes brightened, his bowed form stood erect, and, with a gesture that was almost youthful, he turned to the young artist standing behind him. "Did you do this? And that is----" "The reproduction of a portrait which I saw upon my first visit to the Ebersburg," Hans completed the sentence. "You, perhaps, remember our conversation upon that occasion, and can now understand why I ask your permission to paint this picture." Eberstein made no reply; he stood gazing fixedly at the picture, at the image of himself when he was still young and happy, and fit to bear arms. His eyes grew moist at the memory of that time. "What does all this mean?" asked the Professor, who knew the picture, but had not been informed of its secret significance. The old Baron turned to him and said, in a tone half of melancholy, half of conscious pride,-- "Those are my features. Thus looked Udo von Eberstein forty years ago." "You are very much changed since then," said Wehlau, in his blunt fashion; but Hans hastily interposed. "No, no, papa! Look closely at the Freiherr and you will recognize the features. The picture is to be painted in fresco, Herr Baron, and will probably last as long as the Rathhaus is in existence, for some hundreds of years at least." "Some hundreds of years," murmured Eberstein, ecstatically. "But no one will know that scutcheon." Hans stepped close to his side. "Unfortunately, it is known already. That terrible press--you know I share your horror of it--has mastered the whole matter, and has printed the names in full. An article in the principal newspaper of our imperial capital--permit me to read you the close of it." He produced a newspaper and read aloud: "'After this detailed description we cannot withhold from our readers the information that the central figure of the picture,--the knight with the fine characteristic head,'--here it is in black and white, Herr Baron,--'the fine characteristic head, is an only slightly idealized portrait,--the portrait of the Freiherr Udo von Eberstein-Ortenau of the Ebersburg, the last scion of a once famous race, which traces its pedigree back to the tenth century; the scutcheon of the Ebersteins, seen upon the helmet and shield of the knight, is thus immortalized.' Indeed I could not help this, Herr Baron,--a couple of innocent remarks of mine to acquaintances,--shall I have the article contradicted?--it will else go the entire round of Germany, in all the newspapers." "No, my young friend," replied Eberstein, with dignity. "I forbid you to contradict it; on the contrary, the press seems to me to have been in this instance neither reckless nor indiscreet. It does but fulfil a duty in bringing to light facts that have escaped the memory of thousands of our contemporaries. Let the article go the entire round of Germany!"