was his constant ideal.

"At last he got letters from home, in which his agent told him that
Herr Elias Roos had shuffled off this mortal coil, and that his
presence was necessary for the settlement of his affairs with the
book-keeper, who had married Christina, and was carrying on the
business. Traugott hastened back to Dantzic by the quickest route.

"There he stood once more in the Artus Hof, by the granite pillar,
opposite to the Burgomaster and the Page. He thought of the strange
adventure which had introduced such a painful element into his life;
and, in deep and painful sorrow, he gazed at the lad, who seemed to
welcome him back with eyes of life, and to whisper in sweet and
charming accents, 'You see, you could not leave me, after all!'

"'Can I believe my eyes? Is it really you, sir, back again safe and
sound, and quite cured of the troublesome melancholy which used to
bother you so?'

"So croaked a voice beside Traugott. It was our old acquaintance the
broker.

"'I never found them,' said Traugott involuntarily.

"'Them?' inquired the broker. 'Whom did you never find, sir?'

"'The painter, Godfredus Berklinger, and his daughter Felizitas,'
answered Traugott. 'I searched for them all over Italy; nobody knew
anything about them in Sorrento.'

"The broker looked at him with eyes of wide amazement, and stammered:
'Where did you look for them, sir? In Italy? at Naples? at Sorrento?'

"'Yes, of course I did,' said Traugott wrathfully.

"The broker struck his hands together time after time, crying 'Oh, my
goodness gracious! Oh, my goodness gracious! Oh, Mr. Traugott, sir!'

"'Well! what is there so astonishing about it?' said Traugott. 'Don't
go on like a donkey! For the sake of the woman he loves, a man will go
even as far as to Sorrento. Yes, yes! I loved Felizitas, and I went in
search of her.'

"But the broker jumped about on one leg, and kept on crying, 'Oh, my
goodness gracious!' till Traugott seized him and held him tight; and
looking at him with earnest glance said:

"'For God's sake, man, out with what you see so extraordinary about the
affair!'

"'But, Mr. Traugott,' began the broker at last, 'don't you know that
Herr Aloysius Brandstetter, the town councillor and Dean of Guild,
calls that little villa of his at the bottom of the Karlsberg, in the
fir wood near Conrad's Hammer, "Sorrento"? He bought Berklinger's
pictures, and took him and his daughter to live in his house, that's to
say,