"Well, we must hunt," says Trude. No sooner said than done. The following Sunday when the mill stands still and no servants or apprentices are about, Johannes takes the bunch of keys and beckons to Trude to follow him. "Where are you off to?" asks Martin, looking up from the book he is reading. "One of the hens lays its eggs astray," said Trude quickly. "We want to hunt for them." And she does not even blush. They ransack the stables and barns, the storehouses and haystacks and especially the mill,--they tear upstairs and downstairs, clamber up steep ladders and rummage in the rubbish of the lumber attics. About two hours have gone by in fruitless search, when Trude, who has never lost courage, announces that in the furthest corner of the store-house she has found what she was seeking. Beneath some rotten shafts and worn-out cog-wheels, covered by the debris of the last ten years, stand a few large bushel-sacks, filled with flour and barley; besides which there are all sorts of useful trifles, such as hammers, pincers, brushes and table-knives. Loudly rejoicing, her eyes glistening, her face all dirty, her hair full of cobwebs, she emerges from the cavity, and after Johannes has convinced himself that she has seen aright, they hold council of war. Shall Martin be drawn into the secret? No, he would be vexed and perhaps spoil their fun. Johannes hits upon the right thing to do. He pours the contents of the sacks into their proper receptacles and then fills them with sand and gravel, but on the top puts a layer of lamp-black, such as the coachman uses for blacking his leather trappings. After having, on the way, quickly arranged everything as before, he considers his work completed. Both depart from the mill filled with intense delight, wash their hands and faces at the pump, help each other to get their clothes clean and do their best to keep a straight face on entering the room. But Martin at once notices the treacherous twitching of their mouths; he threatens them smilingly with his finger, though he asks no further questions.... Two--three days go by during which they are consumed with impatience;--then one morning when Trude is in the garden Johannes comes rushing down, breathless and red in the face with suppressed laughter. She forthwith throws down her hoe and follows him then and there to the yard. In front of the pump stands old David, helpless and enraged, half white and half as black as a sweep. His face and hands are coal black and his clothes are full of huge tar stains. From all the windows of the mill the laughing faces of the mill-hands peep out; and Martin walks excitedly to and fro in front of the house.