LA MOTTE FOUQUÉ.
HEAD MASTER RHENFRIED AND HIS FAMILY.
“Shut the door, Margery, my dear,” said her old grandfather, “and bolt it too very carefully. Our young gentlemen students are about to jubilate in the streets to night, as neighbour Schwertfeger informs me, and it may be better for quiet people who occupy the ground floor, like us, to be something upon our guard. Meanwhile, I will look to the window shutters; it is already getting quite dark, and it is high time to light a candle.”
“But how will our old lodger find his way in, then, grandfather?” said the little maiden; “you know he is still out among the pine trees, and wandering about the old heathen monuments and tombs.”
“Let him rummage there, as long as he pleases, child, we cannot hinder him. And he may please, likewise, to wait awhile before the door, when he comes; for, to say truth, I do not like his ways at all, and I am sorry that I ever promised the professor, on taking the house, not to turn the strange lodger out of doors.”
“Oh, grandfather! it was surely hard enough upon poor Mr. Professor to be obliged to leave his nice family house, all owing to his wicked creditors; and it vexes me to think of it. For Mr. Professor
