The armourer, a little old fellow, nodded assent to his friend's remark. "May God punish me, but you are right, Master Köhler. There are many other people here, whom he might have noticed. The burgomaster is on the ground, and my godfather Hans von Besserer, who lives in the corner house, stands among the crowd also,--both as good as that youngster! If I were his master, I would soon teach him to bend his head, though he looks to me, as if it would require an emperor to make him do so. He must be a man of some consequence, for the secretary to the council, my neighbour in town, who is otherwise an enemy to receiving guests, has given him a lodging in his own house." "Kraft?" asked the weaver, astonished; "but stop, there may be something in it. He must be a young nobleman, or, likely enough, the son of the burgomaster of Cologne, who intends to join the army also. Is that not old John, Kraft's servant, standing there?" "Yes, that's him," said the armourer, whose curiosity was excited by the weaver's inquiry: "it is him; and I will stand confessor to him, in spite of the provost of Elchingen." But though the space between the two citizens and Kraft's servant was small, the smith could not accost him, on account of the density of the crowd. The important bearing, however, of the chief of the weavers among his brother tradesmen, for he was rich, and respected in the town, enabled him to force his way, and he succeeded in getting possession of John, and forthwith conducted him to the armourer. Old John, when questioned, could not give them much information on the subject of their inquiry; all he could say was, that his master's guest was a Herr von Sturmfeder, and that he could not have come from any great distance, as he had only one horse, and no servant. "But my master will get the worst of it," he said, "for our old Sabina is as furious as a dragon, because he has destroyed the economy of the house by inviting a stranger, booted and spurred, without consulting her." "No offence," interrupted the chief of the weavers, "but your master, John, is a fool! I would have thrown that old witch--God forgive me!--long ago out of the window. The gentleman has already arrived at years of discretion, and why does he allow himself to be treated as if he were still in swaddling clothes?" "You have spoken well, Master Köhler," answered the old servant, "but you don't understand matters properly. Throw her into the street, indeed! who would take care of the house, then, I should like to know?"