rtune
for him, as he did--for so many others. Can you fancy, Christine, what
agony it is for me as their instructor to see those fatherless boys,
who have been robbed of their inheritance, suffering the humiliations of
free scholars? I have to think constantly of their misery to be able to
forgive them their cruel glances.

CHRISTINE. I believe that your father is truly better off than you.

ELIS. Truly!

CHRISTINE. But Elis, we should think of summer, and not of the past.

ELIS. Yes, of summer! Do you know, I was awakened last night by some
students singing that old song, "Yes, I am coming, glad winds, take this
greeting to the country, to the birds--Say that I love them, tell birch
and linden, lake and mountain, that I am coming back to them--to behold
them again as in my childhood hours--" [He rises--moved.] Shall I ever
go back to them, shall I ever go out from this dreadful city, from Ebal,
accursed mountain, and behold Gerizim again? [Seats himself near the
door.]

CHRISTINE. Aye, aye--that you shall!

ELIS. But do you think my birches and lindens will look as they used
to--don't you think the same dark veil will shroud them that has
been lying over all nature and life for us ever since the day when
father--[Points to the empty arm-chair which is in the shadow.] Look,
the sun has gone.

CHRISTINE. It will come again and stay longer.

ELIS. That's true. As the days lengthen the shadows shorten.

CHRISTINE. Yes, Elis, we are going toward the light, believe me.

ELIS. Sometimes I believe that, and when I think of all that has
happened, all the misery, and compare it with the present--then I am
happy. Last year you were not sitting there, for you had gone away from
me and broken off our betrothal. Do you know, that was the darkest time
of all. I was dying literally bit by bit; but then you came back to
me--and I lived. Why did you go away from me?

CHRISTINE. Oh; I don't know--it seems to me now as if there was no
reason. I had an impulse to go--and I went, as tho' I were walking in my
sleep. When I saw you again I awoke--and was happy.

ELIS. And now we shall go on together forevermore. If you left me now I
should die in earnest.--Here comes mother. Say nothing, let her live in
her imaginary world in which she believes that father is a martyr and
that all those he sacrificed are rascals.

MRS. HEYST [Comes from kitchen. She is paring an apple. She is simply
dressed and speaks in an innocent voice]. Go