In the neighborhood of three hundred years ago the Swallow’s Nest and the larger castle between it and Neckarsteinach were owned and occupied by two old knights¹ who were twin brothers, and bachelors. They had no relatives. They were very rich. They had fought through the wars and retired² to private life—covered with honorable scars. They were honest, honorable men in their dealings, but the people had given them a couple of nicknames which were very suggestive—Herr Givenaught and Herr Heartless. The old knights were so proud of these names that if a burgher called them by their right ones they would correct them.

The most renowned³ scholar in Europe, at the time, was the Herr Doctor Franz Reikmann, who lived in Heidelberg. All Germany was proud of the venerable scholar, who lived in the simplest way, for great scholars are always poor. He was poor, as to money, but very rich in his sweet young daughter Hildegarde and his library. He had been all his life collecting his library, book and book, and he lived it as a miser⁴ loves his hoarded⁵ gold. He said the two strings⁶ of his heart were rooted, the one in his daughter, the other in his books; and that if either were severed⁷ he must die. Now in an evil hour, hoping to win a marriage portion for his child, this simple old man had intrusted his small savings⁸ to a sharper to be ventured in a glittering speculation⁹. But that was not the worst of it: he signed a paper—without reading it. That is the way with poets and scholars; they always sign without reading. This cunning paper made him responsible for heaps of things. The rest was that one night he found himself in debt to the sharper eight thousand pieces of gold!—an amount so

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