'The stranger?' asked Katharine resentfully. 'In our hearts it has been a long time since you were so, and we should much regret to have you consider yourself one. Believe me, we are sensible what a faithful companion and assistant my husband has acquired in you, and that every thing we can do for you is but honestly discharging our obligations.' 'Ah, see, master Dorn, you also have got a sword!' cried Martin, holding up this essential part of the dress of a burgher in those times, which lay by Dorn's present. Dorn suddenly approached the boy and taking the magnificent sword from his hands gazed upon it with secret pleasure. At length he could no longer resist the desire to draw and try the temper of the blade. 'You are not angry,' asked Katharine, 'that a lady should presume to arm you? Really your old sword with its hacked hilt and notched and rusty blade, would not have become your new suit.' 'You have done well, worthy lady,' said Dorn, proving the blade by pressing its point against the floor and bending it in every direction. 'The old sword had indeed become dear to me, like an old friend who had always remained true in times of necessity and danger; but I never reflect upon the deeds I have performed with it without shuddering. It seems to me that it is possessed by an evil spirit which impels my hand to deeds of blood against my will, and I therefore do not like to touch it. This has as yet drank no blood, and, so help me God, I will preserve it unstained unless I am compelled to draw it in defence of the hearth where I, a friendless stranger, have been so hospitably received.' 'Or in defence of religion,' added the parson. 'The true religion, most worthy sir,' answered Dorn, 'needs not the aid of the sword!' The reverend man had already opened his mouth to refute this bold proposition, when the master of the house entered with a clouded countenance, holding two open letters in his hand. He briefly greeted the parson, gently put aside the children who gathered about him in their noisy joy, and handed one of the letters to his wife. 'From your mother, at Sagan,' said he; and while she proceeded to read it with visible terror, he drew the book-keeper to a window.