the corpse, now he shuddered at it no longer.
His lips moved, and as in a dream he said to himself, "That is the last
resource." The door was now torn open, a hideous head appeared, and a
wild cry was heard, "Come up, Hirsch Ehrenthal; your son is dying." Then
the apparition vanished, Ehrenthal rushed off with a shriek, and the
baron tottered out of the house.

When the father fell down beside his son's bed, a white hand was lifted
up once more, then a corpse fell back. Bernhard was gone out into the
sunshine.

The evening was warm. A light mist hid the stars, but there was still a
pleasant twilight. The balmy breath of the flowering shrubs in the
public gardens was wafted into the streets. The passers-by returned
slowly home, sorry to leave the sweet south breeze, and shut themselves
up in-doors. The beggar stretched himself comfortably out on the
threshold of the stately house; every young fellow who had a sweetheart
led her out with him through the streets. He who was weary forgot his
past day's work; he who was sad felt his sadness less on such an evening
as this; he who was alone the whole year felt impelled to seek
companionship to-day. Groups stood laughing and chattering at the doors;
children were playing; the caged nightingale sang her sweetest
song--sang of the early summer--that happy time when life is sweet and
fond hopes blossom.

Through these swarms of people a tall man walked slowly; his head had
sunk on his breast. He did not hear the nightingale's note, and passed
through the circle of dancing children without one sound of their happy
voices falling upon his ear. He passed into the suburbs, slowly ascended
a flower-crowned hill, and sat down on a bench. Beneath him the dark
river rolled onward to the sea, and opposite him rose the mighty mass of
the old cathedral. The river was covered with timber-rafts brought down
from the mountains. On these rafts stood the little huts of their
rowers, with small fires in them, at which the men were now preparing
their suppers. He too had had to do with timber-rafts like these, and
the money he had thus won had been spoken of as a theft. He got up
hastily and hurried down the hill.

His way lay through an alley of tall sycamores, and again he stopped,
and wearily leaned against the trunk of a tree. Before him rose the
chimneys of the manufacturing part of the town. He too knew what it was
to build a tall pile like that. He had laid all he had at its base--his