This letter fell into the wrong hands; it was the little Frau Pastorin who found it, as she was watering the flowers, while Louise, who was learning housekeeping, was preserving gooseberries. She made no scruple of opening and reading the letter, and when she had made herself acquainted with its contents, she had no doubt that it was intended for Louise, and that it came from Fritz, her precious nephew. She said nothing to Louise of her discovery, that would have been playing into Fritz's hand; but she alluded in a variety of ways to ridiculous correspondence, just to ascertain if Louise had found similar epistles before; it was to no purpose however, the child understood nothing from her hints, and she then resolved to say nothing of the matter to her Pastor,--why should he be worried about it? and then it went terribly against the grain to confess that her own flesh and blood--for so, unfortunately, she must consider Fritz--should perpetrate such a piece of nonsense. She would gladly have spoken her mind to _him_, but he kept out of her way. She went about with such thoughts in her mind for a day or two, taking, by the way, the watering of the flowers out of Louise's hands, once for all, that she might suspect nothing. It was wise in her to do so, for it was not long before she found a water-soaked letter, under the third rose-bush in the second row. This spoke more clearly: Address:--"To the _Only One_, known to me _alone_." Superscription:--"Soul of my life!" "Snares surround us; I know that the enemy lies in wait. Cowardly _spy_, I _laugh_ at thee! Have no fear, my dearest, I can rescue thee. One bold deed will give _freedom_ to our love. To-morrow afternoon, at two o'clock, when the DRAGON sleeps, who guards my TREASURE, I will expect thy signal with the handkerchief, I shall be strewing manure, behind the water-ditch, three _whistles_ on the handle of my stick will give thee warning, and though hell itself bursts forth, I have sworn it. Ever "Thine." When the Frau Pastorin read this she was quite off her balance. "That! That! Oh, the miserable scamp! 'Dragon Sleeps!' The rascal means me by that! But wait! I will give you a signal, and if hell doesn't burst forth, something shall crack about your ears, let me only get hold of you!" The next day, before two o'clock, the Frau Pastorin rose from her sofa, and went into the garden. The house-door had creaked, and her Pastor heard the gate-latch also rattle, so he got up and looked out of the window, to see what his wife was doing in the garden, at this unusual hour, for her nap generally lasted until three o'clock. He saw her go behind a bush, and she stood there and waved her handkerchief in the air. "She is beckoning to Habermann, perhaps," said he, and lay down again. She was, however, merely giving a friendly signal to her nephew, till she might get a little nearer to his ears.