"'Now, Master Aronach, thou mayest go home and play with thy little sister at kings and queens, and never do any more lessons till thou art twelve years old; for that is the time to be a man and do great things: and now thou art a poor baby, who cannot do anything but play and go to sleep. And all the big books are put away, and nobody is to bring them out again until thou art big and canst keep awake.'
"Then I looked at him hard, to see whether he was still mocking me; but when I found he looked rather about to cry, I set him down, and took my hat, and walked out of my house to the lower ramparts. On the lower ramparts stood the fine house of his father, and I rang the bell quite free, and went boldly up the stairs. His mother was alone in her grand drawing-room, and I said that she might either come and fetch him away altogether, or let him stay with me and amuse himself as he cared for; that I would not teach him for those years to come, as he had said. The stately lady was offended, and carried him off from me altogether; and when he went he was very proud, and would not shed one tear, though he clung round my collar and whispered, elf that he was,—'I shall come back when I am twelve. Hush! master, hush!'"
"And did he come back?" I cried, no less in ecstasy at the story than at the confidence reposed in me.
"All in good time—peace," said Aronach. "I never saw him again until the twenty-second morning of May, in the fourth year after his mother carried him off. I heard of the wonder-boy from every mouth,—how he was taken here, and flourished there, to show off; and petted and praised by the king; and I thought often how piteous was it thus to spoil him. On that very morning I was up betimes, and was writing a letter to an old friend of mine whose daughter was dead, when I heard feet like a fawn that was finding quick way up my dark stairs, and I stopped to listen. The door was burst open all in a moment, as if by the wind, and there he stood, in his little hat and feather and his gay new dress, bright as a birthday prince, with a huge lumbering flower-pot in his two little arms. He set that upon the floor and danced up to me directly, climbing upon my knees. 'Will you take me back? For I am twelve, and nobody else can teach me! I know all they know.'
"He folded his little arms together round my collar, and held on there tight. What a minimus he was! scarcely a half-foot taller; but with such a noble air, and those same kind eyes of old. I pinched his fair cheek, which was red as any rose; but it was only a blossom born of the morning air: as he still sat upon my knees, the beauteous color fell, faded quite away, and left him pale,—pale as you now see him, Master Carl."
"Oh, sir! tell me a little, little more. What did he tell you? What did he do?"
"He told me, with the pale face pressed against my coat, 'Thou seest, sweet master, I would not take pains just at first, and mamma was very grand; she never blessed me for a week, and I never kissed her. I did lessons with her, though, and tried to plague her, and played very sad, very ill, and would hardly read a bar. So mamma took it into her head to say that you had not taught me properly; and I grew very wild, angry,—so hurt at least that I burst out, and ran downstairs, and came no more for lessons five whole days. Then I begged her pardon, and she sent for Herr Hümmel to teach me. I played my very best to Herr Hümmel, master mine!'
"'I daresay he did,' thought I, 'the naughty one! the elf!' There he lay back with his pale face, and all the mischief in his starry eyes.
"'And Herr Hümmel,' my loveling went on, pursing his lips, 'said he could not teach me to play, but perhaps he could teach me to write. So I wrote for him ever so many pages, and he could not read them, for I wrote so small, so small; and Herr Hümmel has such very weak eyes!'
"Oh! how naughty he looked, lying across my knees!