not
raise his head from the pillow on account of the ice compress that was
laid across both eyes, but the pale, finely-formed face beneath it lit
up with such a joyful smile, that the two friends were so moved they
could hardly stammer out the necessary words of greeting.

A slim young figure had risen from the chair at the head of the bed to
make room for the gentlemen. She still held in her hand the book from
which she had been reading, and her delicate face blushed when Schnetz
turned and cordially pressed her hand.

"I need not introduce you to one another," said Elfinger. "Baron Felix,
too, will probably recollect my little Fanny, from having met her at
that memorable boating party. In those days we two were not so well
acquainted with one another as we are now, for, as you know, 'it must
be dark for Friedland's stars to shine.' I still had one eye too many.
It is only since I have been left quite in the darkness that she has
clearly seen that her heavenly bridegroom would not be angry with her
for being unfaithful to him in order to light a poor blind cripple
through life. Isn't it so, sweetheart?"

"Don't boast in such a godless way," they heard Rosenbusch call out,
"as if it were on your account, _pour tes beaux yeux_, as messieurs our
hereditary enemies say, that she became converted and joined our
society. Nonsense! Fraeulein Fanny, it is simply because you have to do
penance for your faithless sister, and redeem the honor of the Munich
women."

"Be quiet over there, most fickle of mortals," cried Elfinger; "or I'll
complain of you to Angelica. You must know they take turns in nursing
us, these two good angels; and although that frivolous man opposite
ought to thank God that such an excellent woman has finally received
him into grace, he is perpetually making love to my sweetheart over the
screen. Fortunately, I have, once and for all, said good-by to
jealousy, which would certainly be ridiculous enough in a blind man--"

"I hope you exaggerate, Elfinger," interrupted Felix; "when we took
leave of one another in Versailles the doctor gave us great reason to
hope--"

"The way was a trifle long, and the snow-storm that welcomed us home to
our fatherland--pshaw! If it is so, and I only have enough twilight
left for me to recognize the outlines of a certain face when it is
close to mine, I will be happy. But even if this is no longer possible,
ought I not to count my lot fortunate? 'I had it once--I tell y