y tried one or two of the choruses. I sat
in silence, feeling a new world breaking in glory around me, till that
tremendous chorus came; the organ notes swelled out, the tenor voice
sung "Whom will ye that I give unto you?" and the answer came, crashing
down in one tremendous clap, "Barrabam!" And such music was in the
world, had been sung for years, and I had not heard it. Verily, there
may be revelations and things new under the sun every day.

I had forgotten everything outside the cathedral--every person but the
one at my side. It was he who roused first, looking at his watch and
exclaiming.

"_Herrgott!_ We must go to the station, Fraeulein, if we wish to catch
the train."

And yet I did not think he seemed very eager to catch it, as we went
through the busy streets in the warmth of the evening, for it was hot,
as it sometimes is in pleasant April, before the withering east winds of
the "merry month" have come to devastate the land and sweep sickly
people off the face of the earth. We went slowly through the moving
crowds to the station, into the wartesaal, where he left me while he
went to take my ticket. I sat in the same corner of the same sofa as
before, and to this day I could enumerate every object in that
wartesaal.

It was after seven o'clock. The outside sky was still bright, but it was
dusk in the waiting-room and under the shadow of the station. When
"Eugen Courvoisier" came in again, I did not see his features so
distinctly as lately in the cathedral. Again he sat down beside me,
silently this time. I glanced at his face, and a strange, sharp, pungent
thrill shot through me. The companion of a few hours--was he only that?

"Are you very tired?" he asked, gently, after a long pause. "I think the
train will not be very long now."

Even as he spoke, clang, clang, went the bell, and for the second time
that day I went toward the train for Elberthal. This time no wrong
turning, no mistake. Courvoisier put me into an empty compartment, and
followed me, said something to a guard who went past, of which I could
only distinguish the word _allein_; but as no one disturbed our privacy,
I concluded that German railway guards, like English ones, are mortal.

After debating within myself for some time, I screwed up my courage and
began:

"Mr. Courvoisier--your name is Courvoisier, is it not?"

"Yes."

"Will you please tell me how much money you have spent for me to-day?"

"How much money?" he asked, loo