triumph of art, and trampled under foot the crowns that it promises? I salute thee from afar, land of arts and antique genius! Rome, I shall soon see thee again!"
The two friends arrived thus at a place where the road was forked. Reinhold turned to the left. "Farewell!" said he to Frederick, embracing him—"Farewell, my friend; let us separate; who knows if we shall ever meet again!"
He then sprang to his saddle, and spurred on without looking behind him.
Frederick remained long in the place, his eyes fixed on the lonesome road. He then returned to the house, his heart oppressed with grief. Dark forebodings agitated his soul. He fancied that separation resembles death!
X.
At some time from that, master Martin, sad and thoughtful, finished the bishop of Bamberg's tun. Frederick, who was working by his side, said not a word! The departure of Reinhold had deprived him of all joy. Finally, master Martin, throwing his mallet down, folded his arms angrily, and muttered between his teeth!—"There is Reinhold gone after Conrad. He was such a painter as is seldom seen, but he thought to make me a dupe! How could one imagine such rascality under such distinguished traits, with manners so frank, so civil! At last, he is unmasked; and Frederick at least, will remain faithful to me, for he is a clever and simple workman. And who knows what might happen? If thou shouldst become, my dear boy, a skilful master, and should please my little Rosa.—I shall see, I shall see."—And saying this, master Martin picked up his mallet, and returned to his labor. Frederick whilst listening to him had felt a warm emotion thrill through his whole being; but at the same time an indefinable discouragement deprived him of hope. Rosa appeared in the workshop, where she had not put her foot
