"Here is Germany." "Where ?" "On t'other side of the bourn.

No need to ride down the hill, I trow." Gerard dismounted without a word, and took the burgomaster's purse from his girdle: while he opened it, "You will soon be out of this hateful country," said his guide, half sulkily; "mayhap the one you are going to will like you no better; any way, though it be a church you have robbed, they cannot take you, once across that bourn." These words at another time would have earned the speaker an admonition or a cuff.

They fell on Gerard now like idle air.

He paid the lad in silence, and descended the hill alone.

The brook was silvery; it ran murmuring over little pebbles, that glittered, varnished by the clear water; he sat down and looked stupidly at them.