After sending the letter, the Professor, still disquieted, went to his lecture, and was conscious that his mind wandered during his discourse. Fritz hastened to the library, and diligently collected all the referenced which he could find respecting the Manor of Bielstein. At midday, on their return home, each of them read the second letter of his friend: then the Professor frequently looked at the clock, and when it struck three he hastily put on his hat and went with great strides across the street to the hostile house. As he laid hold of the door-knob of the Doctor's room, he felt a counter pressure from within. Pushing the door open, he found Fritz standing before him, also with his hat on, intending to visit him. Without saying a word the two friends embraced each other. "I bring you good tidings from the book-seller," began the Professor. "And I of the old Manor," exclaimed Fritz. "Listen," said the Professor. "The book-seller bought the monk's book of a retail-dealer who travels about the country collecting curiosities and old books. The man was brought into my presence; he had himself bought the little book in the town of Rossau, at an auction of the effects of a cloth-maker, together with an old cupboard and some carved stools. It is at least possible that the remarks in cipher at the end, which evade unpracticed eyes, may never, after the death of the friar, have excited observation nor caused investigation. Perhaps there may still be preserved in some church-record at Rossau an account of the life and death of the monk Tobias Bachhuber." "Possibly," assented Fritz, much pleased. "A congregation of his persuasion still exists. But Manor Bielstein lies at a distance of half an hour from the town of Rossau, on a woody height--see, here is the map. It formerly belonged to the ruling sovereign, but in the last century it passed into private hands; the buildings, however, remain. It is represented on this map as an old chateau, at present the residence of a Mr. Bauer. My father also knows about the house; he has seen it from the high road on his journeys, and describes it as a long stretch of buildings, with balconies and a high roof." "The threads interweave themselves into a satisfactory web," said the Professor, complacently. "Stop a moment," cried the Doctor, eagerly. "The traditions of this province have been collected by one of our friends. The man is trustworthy. Let us see whether he has recorded any reminiscences of the neighborhood of Rossau." He hastily opened and looked into a book, and then gazed speechless at his friend. The Professor seized the volume and read this short notice: "It is said that in the olden times the monks in the neighborhood of Bielstein walled up a great treasure in the manor-house." Again did a vision of the old, mysterious manuscript arise before the eyes of the friends so distinctly that it might be seized.