“You seem altogether a strange customer,” continued Talander “and I am somewhat curious to know more of you. Pray just show me the palm of your hand.” “Never mind such fooleries, magister,” said Axel, withdrawing his hand. “Only ignorance judges hastily of what it does not understand,” said the magister, angrily. “How can you thus with contempt reject that noble chiromancy to which I have devoted myself for nearly a generation.” Forcibly seizing the wounded hand he examined it long and closely, then said, muttering, “Well, these lines indicate that you were born for something superior to a stable. This line may be truly called the _cingulum veneris_, it promises success in love; and here are fame and honour and high dignities. Ah, ah, friend, you are not what you appear.” “Your crotchets deceive you in a singular manner,” said Axel, embarrassed, and wishing to escape. “The old Talander is no woman,” said the magister, “and therefore has no crotchets, and has never deceived himself yet.” And, retaining his hold of Axel, he added, “I tell you plainly you are no groom, and if you were not a good evangelical Christian, and had not a pair of clear faithful eyes, through which one may imagine that one can look into your very heart, I should say you had some wicked design, and I should communicate my suspicions to the baron.” “By heavens and my honour,” cried Axel, warmly, “my intentions are pure.” “A groom may indeed be an honest man,” said Talander, mockingly, “but it is something uncommon for him to give his word of honour; it sounds rather cavalier-like, and you must act more in character. I have done now,” continued he, fastening the bandage; “give me the handkerchief and ribbon to return to the Fräulein.” “Never,” cried Axel, as he concealed the precious pledges in his bosom. “‘Never;’ say you, youngster! you are rather too bold for me,” said the old man, menacing with his finger. “Go, settle it yourself with the Fräulein. There she stands in the garden, near the rose-tree, herself the most beautiful rose in the garden. How wicked must be that worm that would malignantly approach this flower to poison its sweet bloom--are you not of the same opinion?” “Indeed I am of the same opinion,” said the groom; “be unconcerned about this sweet flower which so proudly sets forth your care as its gardener. With the ray of love it will bloom more beautifully, and if myrtle and laurel shall once be entwined around it you will weep tears of joy.” “Amen,” said the old man, with emotion, and Axel ran to the garden to Tugendreich.