"You wrong him," replied Edwin. "Fire and water are two equally stern
elements, although one accomplishes by heat what the other does by
cold:--destroys and vivifies like every power."

"Hm! If you don't freeze meantime--Farewell."

"And where are you going to spend the night?" asked Balder.

"There are plenty of benches in the Thiergarten."

"I wouldn't let you go, Franzel," whispered Balder, as he reached the
threshold. "You have already camped here many a night. But--Edwin
sleeps so badly now. The least thing disturbs his nerves."

"Thank you, Balder. Don't be anxious about me. Good night!"

They heard him go down stairs, and directly after Mohr came slowly up.
He entered the room with a face deeply flushed, but apparently calm.

"Our philanthropist has gone," said he. "I believe I drove him away.
I'm sorry; he thinks I don't like him and he's very much mistaken. On
the contrary, I do him the honor to envy him."

"For what?"

"Because he's possessed, not only with his mania about persecution,
which makes a man just as happy as if he believes himself an
unappreciated genius, but because he has a demon that drives him about,
speaks from his lips, hides within him, and keeps him warm--while I, a
mere husk without kernel or substance--foh!"

"And our artist?" asked Edwin after a pause. "Did she not wish to enjoy
either the honor or the pleasure?"

"It's late," replied Mohr, looking at his watch, "too late to open a
second bottle, I'll seek my virgin couch."

"He evades us," laughed Edwin, turning to Balder. "She has disappointed
his expectations. Ah! Heinz, I could have told you that before; this
muse is not a beauty. Her fingers promise more than her features give."

"Talk about what you understand. Philosopher," replied Mohr, seizing
his hat. "Let her be what she likes and look as she chooses: she's a
whole hearted woman."

"Did you receive satisfactory proofs of that in three minutes?"

"Probably. At least it's a fresh proof that I can accomplish nothing
whole, and even in a stupid prank don't go beyond the most pitiful
half-way measures. It's actually crushing. I wish you a good nights'
rest----"

When he had gone and the brothers were at last alone, Edwin confessed
his day's adventures. Balder too might have had many things to tell,
but not a word in relation to the birthday festival crossed his lips.
And yet he was secretly reproaching himself for having a secret from
his brother.

This night