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(Continued from page 342)
She went and he remained to pursue his studies. So the time passed. He had grown eager and busied himself noiselessly with his telescope. “And he thrust aside once more that young life, which an hour ago had breathed so very near him and came again to the old beaten track of thought that the old Dreier was right. ‘Don't do anything foolish, Joern.’—And yet, ‘Fine she is and good. Happy the man about whose neck her arms lie.—What precious treasure must those eyes hold, when they can look with such frank confidence at a man.’”
About him now were only the customary sounds of night. Suddenly it was as if near by over the house roof and then at the side at the wall of the house he heard the soft cry of a goose and the weak flapping of wings. And “as he looked, there stood under the house roof in the bright moonlight a white human form, with one hand over the eyes and with the other feeling along the wall, as if it would enter the house where there was however no door. It spoke in excited hurried words, ‘The calves are in the garden; you must be more on the watch. Get up Joern and help me.’ Joern Uhl came in three long strides over the turf and softly called her name: ‘I am here.—Here I stand.—It is I.—So! so!—Now be still.—It is I. —No one else is here.’ She was speechless and began to rub her eyes with the back of her hand, as a child rubs the sleep out of its eyes, and she fretted also in childish fashion. Then he embraced her and told her again where she was, and led her to the stable door seeking to comfort her.’ Look, here is the door of the stable. Here you have gone through, you dreamer; you have gone all through the