The postmaster was still standing at his inn-door looking up the valley after the three friends, when, just as a winding in the road hid them from sight, he rubbed his eyes which he had lazily turned in another direction, and thought he must be dreaming. No, it was no dream, he saw advancing upon the high-road towards the village the realization of his most extravagant hopes. Two equipages, each drawn by four horses, were coming rapidly along the highway. Since the death of the first madame, for more than a quarter of a century no four-horse equipage had been seen upon the road to Tausens, and here were two, one behind the other, and each, as Hansel's sharp eyes discerned even at a distance, laden with large trunks, while the light dresses of ladies were visible inside the carriages. These were certainly grand and wealthy travellers, and that they meant to stay in Tausens was plain from the quantity of luggage. With intense eagerness Hansel awaited their arrival; he did not have to wait long,--the first carriage was close at hand; all right: it turned aside from the road, and with a sharp turn the coachman reined in his four fiery steeds before the door of the Post. A servant in rich livery sprang from the box to open the door and assist the occupants of the carriage to descend. They consisted of a very stout elderly lady, a gentleman also elderly, and a young gentleman who had been sitting on the back seat. The young man refused the footman's proffered aid; he sprang out, and turned to assist his elderly companions. With the greatest care and attention he helped out the stout lady, who descended from her seat with difficulty, and then he gave his hand to her companion. The lady thanked him with a pleasant smile, the gentleman in words. "Thanks, my dear Guido. Here we are at last; my legs are positively stiff, and my clothes are sticking to me with the heat. There comes the other carriage. Eva looks as red as a cherry." The second carriage now drove up; two young ladies were sitting inside, and on the box beside the driver sat a third, much more showily dressed than the others. The liveried footman hastened to help this last to descend from her high perch, and his aid was accepted most willingly, the young person leaning on his arm as if loth to leave his support. The young gentleman who offered his aid to the occupants of the carriage was not as fortunate as the footman; one of the young ladies said, coldly, "Thank you, Herr von Bertram, I do not need any help," and the other said nothing, but the glance of her dark eyes spoke plainly enough,--his assistance was rejected. "Why will you not allow me to render you even the small service you would accept from your servant?" Bertram whispered, quite aggrieved by his repulse.