held fast, and who now was visible.

The whole affair was now naturally explained. The man must have
possessed the viewless charm which makes the possessor but not his
shadow, invisible. He first held it, and afterwards had thrown it away.
I looked round, and immediately discovered the shadow of the invisible
charm. I leaped up and sprang towards it, and did not miss at last the
valuable spoil; unseen, and shadowless, I held the charm in my hand.

The man rose up speedily; he looked round after his fortunate subduer,
not being able to discover in the broad sunny plain either him or his
shadow, which he sought with the greatest anxiety: for he had no reason
to suspect, and no time to observe, that I was a shadowless being. As
soon as he discovered that every trace was vanished, he raised his hands
against himself in the wildest despair, and tore his hair. But this
newly-acquired treasure gave me the means and the disposition to mingle
again among my fellow-men. No pretext was wanting for palliating to my
own mind this despicable robbery; or, rather, it wanted no such pretext.
With a view of ridding myself of any internal reproaches, I hurried away,
not even looking back on the unfortunate victim, whose agonized tones I
heard long repeated after me. So, at least, at that time I looked upon
the circumstances of that event.

I longed to go to the forest-garden, in order to inform myself of the
truth of what the hated one had announced to me; but I knew not where I
was; and in order to inform myself as to the neighbourhood, I mounted the
nearest hill, and saw from its brow the tower of the forest-garden lying
at my feet. My heart beat with agitation, and tears, very different from
those I had before shed, burst into my eyes. I was to see her again. An
anxious, longing desire hurried my steps down the straightest path. A
crowd of peasants I passed unseen going from town; they were talking of
me and of Rascal, and of the forester. I would listen to nothing; I
hastened by.

I walked into the garden, my bosom trembling with the alarm of
expectation. A laugh approached me. I shook; looked eagerly around me,
but could perceive nobody. I moved farther forward, and a noise as of
the pacing of human feet seemed near me. Still I could see nothing--I
thought my ears were deceived; but it was early, nobody was in Count
Peter's arbour--the garden was empty. I rambled over the familiar paths,
until I came near to the