“It was none of _my_ doing, Hanserl; none of _my_ seeking.” “If you had worn the gray jacket you wear on Sundays, there would have been none of this, lad! I have seen double as many years in the yard as you have been in the world, and none have ever seen me at the master's table or waltzing with the master's daughter.” I could not help smiling, in spite of myself, at the thought of such a spectacle. “Nor is there need to laugh because I speak of dancing,” said he, quickly. “They could tell you up in Kleptowitz there are worse performers than Hans Spouer; and if he is not an Englishman, he is an honest Austrian!” This he said with a sort of defiance, and as if he expected a reply. “I have told you already, Hans,” said I, soothingly, “that it was none of my seeking if I am to be transferred from the yard. I was very happy there,--very happy to be with you. We were good comrades in the past, as I hope we may be good friends in the future.” “That can scarcely be,” said he, sorrowfully. “I can have no friend in the man I must say 'sir' to. It's Herr Ignaz's order,” went he on, “he sent for me this morning, and said, 'Hanserl, when you address Herr von Owen,'--aye, he said Herr _von_ Owen,--'never forget he is your superior; and though he once worked with you here in the yard, that was his caprice, and he will do so no more.” “But, Hans, my dear old friend.” “Ja, ja,” said he, waving his hand. “Jetzt ist aus! It is all over now. Here's your reckoning,” and he laid a slip of paper on the bed: “Twelve gulden for the dinners, three-fifty for wine and beer, two gulden for the wash. There were four kreutzers for the girl with the guitar; you bade me give her ten, but four was plenty,--that makes seventeen-six-and-sixty: and you've twenty-three gulden and thirty-four kreutzers in that packet, and so Lebwohl.” And, with a short wave of his hand, he turned away; and as he left the room, I saw that the other hand had been drawn over his eyes, for Hanserl was crying; but I buried my face in the clothes, and sobbed bitterly. My orders were to present myself at Herr Ignaz's private office by noon. Careful not to presume on what seemed at least a happy turn in my destiny, I dressed in my everyday clothes, studious only that they should be clean and well-brushed. “I had forgotten you altogether, boy,” said Herr Ignaz, as I entered the office, and he went on closing his desk and his iron safe before leaving for dinner. “What was it I had to say to you? Can you help me to it, lad?” “I'm afraid not, sir; I only know that you told me to be here at this hour.” “Let me see,” said he, thoughtfully. “There was no complaint against you?” “None, sir, that I know of.” “Nor have you any to make against old Hanserl?” “Far from it, sir. I have met only kindness from him.”