Blanden, with that subtle discrimination which was peculiar to him, soon remarked that Eva's indifference did not appear to be at all natural in this case, that slight defiance, something repellant lay in it, indicating former connection. He looked more closely at his rival, who did not displease him at all, and in whose poetical attempts he had already been interested, and found remarkable consolation in the former's turned-down shirt-collar, and in his unpolished thorn stick. He considered the entire toilet hopeless for a matrimonial candidate, that the heart of an educated girl, who aims at a domestic hearth, could not possibly repose any confidence in such a wooer. Yet love, which allows itself to be won by an enthusiast and a pair of glowing eyes--had it no chance in the game? Schöner was so engrossed by the political paroxysm of that period, that this intoxicated idealism lent him most infectious enthusiasm. He acknowledged himself to be Herwegh's disciple, and when he recited that poet's verses, the beautiful, powerful voice in which he declaimed them, always called forth a kindred feeling in his listeners. He recited with the enthusiasm with which, at that period, these poetical fire-brands were hurled into the air, and, at the same time, heat the oak-branches with his thorn-stick, until the leaves whirled to the ground. "Have you seen him in person?" he asked Eva, and, as she replied in the negative, he continued, "I was present when the students greeted him; I was present at the entertainment in the Kneiphöf _Junkerhof_, when he declaimed his marvellously beautiful poem-- '_Die Lerche war's nicht die Nachtigall, Erhebt euch vom Schlumnur der Sünden; Schon wollen die Feuer sich überall, Die heiligen Feuer, entzunden_.'[3]