"And if he should deny the act," interposed the Doctor. "You should at least make this impossible. As the nosegay has escaped the observation of others passing by, it has probably been laid there the last moment before your appearance, which would not be difficult to do, as you always pass at the same hour. We must endeavor to surprise the daring man."
"I will go alone to-morrow," said the Professor.
"You ought not to watch a student in the wood," said the Doctor, decidedly. "Besides, if your wife remains at home the nosegay will probably not lie on the bench. Leave the affair to me. Go out as usual to-morrow and the following days and I shall watch the place from some other point."
This being settled, the Professor took both the small nosegays from the glass and threw them out of the window.
On the following day, a quarter of an hour before his friends started, the Doctor went to the wood, disguised in a grey coat and dark hat, in order to fall upon the presumptuous versifier from his hiding-place; he undertook to chastise the offender so that the Professor would be spared any personal interference. He found a good place just opposite the bench, where the dense beech foliage would conceal the hunter from his game. There he placed himself in a good position, drew a large opera-glass from his pocket and fixed his eyes attentively on the bench in question. The bench was still empty; the few pedestrians passed it by with indifference; the time seemed long; the Doctor looked for half an hour through the glasses, until his eyes began to ache, but he persevered. His place was well chosen; the offender could not escape. Suddenly, just as his eyes accidentally glanced toward Mr. Hummel's house, he saw the garden gate open; something dark passed out between the trees and came toward the bench out of the thicket, looked cautiously round, passed by the bench and disappeared again among the trees and through the hostile garden gate. An expression of infinite astonishment was depicted on the countenance of the Doctor; he closed his opera glass and laughed quietly to himself; then adjusted the glasses again, and peered after the vanished figure. He shook his head and fell into deep thought. He listened and heard the quiet steps of two promenaders. The Professor and Ilse came out of the wood. They stopped a few steps from the bench and looked at the fatal nosegay which lay there so innocently. The Doctor burst out from the copse, laughing, took up the nosegay, and, offering it to Ilse, said:
"It is not the student."
"Who then?" asked the Professor, uneasily.
"That I cannot tell," replied the Doctor; "but the affair is harmless--the nosegay is from a lady."
"Seriously?" asked the Professor.
"You may depend upon it," replied Fritz, convincingly. "It is from some one whom we both know and your wife need not hesitate to accept the greetings. It is given with the best intentions."