'Business leads you to Mittwalden?' was the next question.

'Mere curiosity,' said Otto. 'I have never yet visited the
principality of Grunewald.'

'A pleasant state, sir,' piped the old man, nodding, 'a very
pleasant state, and a fine race, both pines and people. We reckon
ourselves part Grunewalders here, lying so near the borders; and the
river there is all good Grunewald water, every drop of it. Yes,
sir, a fine state. A man of Grunewald now will swing me an axe over
his head that many a man of Gerolstein could hardly lift; and the
pines, why, deary me, there must be more pines in that little state,
sir, than people in this whole big world. 'Tis twenty years now
since I crossed the marshes, for we grow home-keepers in old age;
but I mind it as if it was yesterday. Up and down, the road keeps
right on from here to Mittwalden; and nothing all the way but the
good green pine-trees, big and little, and water-power! water-power
at every step, sir. We once sold a bit of forest, up there beside
the high-road; and the sight of minted money that we got for it has
set me ciphering ever since what all the pines in Grunewald would
amount to.'

'I suppose you see nothing of the Prince?' inquired Otto.

'No,' said the young man, speaking for the first time, 'nor want
to.'

'Why so? is he so much disliked?' asked Otto.