At the breakfast table I proceeded to bombard the innkeeper. I wanted

to know more about Gretchen.

"Is Gretchen your daughter?" I began.

"No, I am only her godfather," he said. "Does Herr wish another egg?"

"Thanks. She is very well educated for a barmaid."

"Yes. Does Herr wish Rhine wine?"

"Coffee is plenty. Has Gretchen seen many Americans?"

"Few. Perhaps Herr would like a knoblauch with salt and vinegar?"

It occurred to me that Gretchen was not to be discussed. So I made for

another channel.

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"I have heard," said I, "that once upon a time a princess was born in

this inn?"

The old fellow elevated both eyebrows and shoulders--a deprecating

movement.

"They say that of every inn; it has become a trade."

If I had known the old man I might have said that he was sarcastic.

"Then there is no truth in it?" disappointedly.

"Oh, I do not say there is no truth in the statement; if Herr will

pardon me, it is something I do not like to talk about."

"Ah, then there is a mystery?" I cried, with lively interest, pushing

back my chair.

But the innkeeper shook his head determinedly.

"Very well," I laughed; "I shall ask Gretchen."

He smiled. The smile said: "Much good it will do you."

Gretchen was in the barroom arranging some roses over the fireplace.

Her hands were bare; they were small and white, and surprisingly well

kept.

"Gretchen," said I, "I want you to tell me the legend of the inn."

"The legend?"

"Yes; about the Princess who was born here."

Gretchen laughed a merry laugh. The laugh said: "You are an amusing

person!"

"Ah, the American is always after legends when he has tired of

collecting antiquities. Was there a Princess born here? Perhaps. At

any rate it is not a legend; history nor peasantry make mention of it.

Will Herr be so kind as to carry the ladder to the mantel so I may wind

the clock?"

I do so. Even at this early stage I could see that Gretchen had the

faculty of making persons forget what they were seeking, and by the

mere sound of her voice. And it was I who wound the clock.

"Gretchen," said I, "time lags. Make a servant out of me this morning."

"Herr does the barmaid too much honor," with lowered eyes.




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