Mathéus, who had been retarded by the steepness of the path, now rejoined his disciple. “Good morning, good people!” cried the illustrious Doctor, raising his broad-brimmed hat. “God’s blessing be upon you!” “Amen!” replied Hans Aden, returning with his hazel switch. Dame Thérèse inclined her head gently, and appeared absorbed in the most delightful reveries. For a quarter of an hour they went on without speaking; Coucou Peter walking beside the donkey, and looking at the child with pleasure, and Maître Frantz, thinking of the events that were in preparation, self-absorbed. “Are you still going about the country as you used to go, Monsieur Coucou Peter?” asked Thérèse at length, timidly. “Do you not sometimes rest?” “Always on the tramp, Dame Thérèse—always content! I’m like the bird that has only a branch to perch on at night, and flies away the next day to wherever there’s harvesting going on.” “You are wrong, Monsieur Coucou Peter,” she said. “You ought to be laying up something against the time when you will be old—so worthy, so honest a man; think what it would be to fall into poverty!” “What must be must be, Dame Thérèse. I find it enough to get my living from day to day, having nothing but my violin to live by. Besides, I’m not what you take me for to look at me; I’m a prophet! The illustrious Doctor Mathéus will tell you we’ve discovered the peregrination of souls, and are going to preach the truth to the universe.” These words roused Maître Frantz from his reflections. “Coucou Peter is right,” he said; “the hour is near, the destinies are about to be accomplished! Then those who have trained the vine and sown the good seed will be glorified! Great changes will be wrought in the earth; the words of truth will pass from mouth to mouth, and the name of Coucou Peter will resound like that of the greatest prophets! The tenderness which this dear disciple has exhibited at the sight of infancy, the age of weakness, gentleness, and simple purity, is a proof of his goodness of soul, and I do not hesitate to predict for him the highest destiny!” Dame Thérèse looked at Coucou Peter, who modestly cast down his eyes, and it was evident that she was happy to hear so much that was good concerning the brave fiddler. At that moment they passed out of the wood, and the town of Haslach, with its broad-pointed roofs, its winding streets, and its church of the time of Erwin, met their view. A thousand confused voices rose in the air. All the houses were lit up as for a festival. They descended the mountain in silence. CHAPTER X. About nine o’clock in the evening the illustrious philosopher and his new companions made their entry into the ancient town of Haslach. The streets were so crowded with people, waggons, and cattle, as to be almost impassable.