Rhegius listened with eager attention, and pointing to the large side wing, he asked: "And is your whole house full, Mistress Luther?"
"Yes. A long row of boarders sit at my table. A few are able to pay me for what they receive, but the larger number have nothing else to give, than a "thank you." And I am well content, for thus far we have not suffered want, and I would rather serve them all without a reward, if it were possible."
"Are you going to build, Mistress Luther? I see in yonder corner a pile of bricks and tiles."
"Our house is large and roomy enough, dear sir, but old and ruinous. The Doctor consented to accept the building material, which the Town Council sent him in recognition of his services during the time of the plague."
With growing surprise and pleasure the stranger's eyes rested upon Mistress Katharine, who, changing the conversation, said to him: "Your speech has a foreign sound, dear sir. Where is your home, if I may ask?"
"I am a Suabian by birth," returned Rhegius, "and a theologian by profession,—but only a small one, not worthy to unloose the latchet of Dr. Martin's shoes,—yet desirous of laboring with all my strength in the vineyard of the Lord."
"Please be seated, dear Master Rhegius," urged Katharine, "I will call some of our young men, that they may hear your report of the Doctor; and I will prepare you some refreshment."
Katharine hurried across the court and entered the wing, whence she soon returned with the brothers Peter and Jerome Weller, little Hans' schoolmasters. While they joined the stranger, plying him with many eager questions, Katharine brought a bottle of home-brewed beer from the cellar, and went to the kitchen, to prepare the traveller's repast.
Before she had finished, Elsa announced a new arrival. "Dear Mistress Luther, a woman stands without. She has the look of a queen, and yet one could weep to see her sorrowful face. She asked me if the doctor had returned, and seemed much distressed when I told her he was still absent. Then she questioned me, whether Mistress Luther had a merciful heart, and begged to see you."
Katharine felt uneasy. Charging Elsa with the stranger's meal, she went to the great hall. Pausing at the door, she saw before her a woman of a tall, majestic figure, whose appearance affected her strangely. An expression of blended dignity and gentleness rested upon her face, veiled with a look of unspeakable sadness. As if in expectation of a greeting or a question, her soft, pleading eyes sought Katharine's face, until, like Elsa, she felt her own filling with tears.