“After living here in happiness for several years, Ludwig committed a crime for which he was put in prison, and all of two years lay pining in an old fortress on the river Saale. But one day he made his escape by a bold leap into the river.”
“Ah, so!” cried Fritz and Katrina, clapping their hands. “Now we know why he was called Ludwig the Leaper.”
“Yes,” and, as the voice spoke, there was a low, rustling sound very much like laughter. “So your curiosity has been appeased! But after all, I must not chide you for being curious. Had it not been for my desire to know things, I should not now possess the greatest of all treasures.”
“The greatest of all treasures! I pray you tell us what the greatest treasure is?”
But before the voice could answer Fritz’s query, some one called:
“Katrina, Katrina, come at once! I need thee, child, to help me.”
“Yes, mütterchen, I’ll come at once.”
Fritz went with Katrina to the postern-door, where Frau Hofer stood, her white apron and a large iron spoon showing that she had been busy with preparations for their supper.
“Come in, Fritz, and break the evening bread with us; thou art always welcome at our little table.”
There was a caress in Frau Hofer’s voice; she felt warmly for this motherless boy, the son of her girlhood’s dearest friend.