“We two,” said the other, “were the first upon the bridge to-day, and now, you see, we are the last. As to me and others of my kidney, it is our vocation brings us hither, our trade of alms-gathering; but for you, in sooth you are not of our guild; yet you have watched here the whole blessed day. Now I pray you, tell me, if it is not a secret, what is it that brings you hither, or what stone is lying on your heart.”
“What good were it to thee, old blade,” said Franz, bitterly, “to know where the shoe pinches me, or what concern is lying on my heart? It will give thee small care.”
“Sir, I have a kind wish toward you, because you opened your hand and gave me alms; but your countenance at night is not so cheerful as in the morning, and that grieves my heart.”
The kindly sympathy of this old warrior pleased the misanthrope, so that he willingly pursued the conversation.
“Why, then,” answered he, “if thou wouldst know what has made me battle here all day with tedium, thou must understand that I was waiting for a friend, who appointed me hither, and now leaves me to expect in vain.”
“Under favor,” answered Timbertoe, “if I might speak my mind, this friend of yours, be he who he like, is little better than a rogue, to lead you such a dance. If he treated me so, by my faith, his crown should get acquainted with my crutch next time we met. If he could not keep his word he should have let you know, and not thus bamboozle you as if you were a child.”
“Yet I cannot altogether blame this friend,” said Franz, “for being absent; he did not promise; it was but a dream that told me I should meet him here.”
The goblin tale was too long for him to tell, so he veiled it under cover of a dream.
“Ah! that is another story,” said the beggar; “if you build on dreams it is little wonder that your hope deceives you. I myself have dreamed much foolish stuff in my time, but I was never such a madman as to heed it. Had I all the treasures that have been allotted to me in dreams, I might buy the city of Bremen, were it sold by auction. But I never credited a jot of them, or stirred hand or foot to prove their worth or worthlessness. I knew well it would be lost. Ha! I must really laugh in your face, to think that, on the order of an empty dream, you have squandered a fair day of your life, which you might have spent better at a merry banquet.”
“The issue shows that thou art right, old man, and that dreams many times deceive. But,” continued Franz, defensively, “I dreamed so vividly and circumstantially, above three months ago, that on this very day, in this very place, I should meet a friend, who would tell me things of the deepest importance, that it was well worth while to come and see if it would come to pass.”