No star ever fell from heaven, no swallow ever flew more quickly than
flew the maiden to her window, drawn by this call.
In trembling tones the final words of the song died away. Her paper, her
ink, her pen, everything had fallen from her in her haste. As a captive
bird, freed from its cage, flies forth joyously, so Marie bounded forth
from her home. Faster and faster she went, never stopping till she
reached the rose-bush. Breathless and with beating heart, she halted.
There before her stood Hans Le Fevre.
They seated themselves upon the bench. Long, long they sat silently.
At last Hans said, "My dear, true girl, how pale you have grown. Are you
ill?"
She shook her head. "No more, and I trust never again. But you stayed
away much too long. Couldn't you have come back sooner?"
"No, my dear, I could _not_. Had I returned as a poor, struggling
carver your father would have banished me from his door-step. We should
then have seen each other again, only to be parted for the second time.
So I waited till I had accomplished what I set out to do. I have
traveled extensively and feasted my eyes on the beautiful works of art
in great cities. I have studied under Durer, and now my name is
mentioned with honor as one of Durer's pupils."
"Oh, Hans, do you really believe that that will soften my father's
heart?" said Marie, anxiously.
"Yes, Marie, I don't think that he can fail me. I heard in Nurnberg that
a new altar is to be built in this Cathedral, so I hastened here to
compete.
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