ys at the same pace,
and so, in a way, together. We learn the same things, we think the same
things, we suffer the same things, because we were of those whom the
dear God hath joined. Another walks beside thee and yet not with thee,
because, through all the distance, thou art mine.

"And so we go until thy road is turned. Thou dost not know it is turned,
because the circle is so great thou canst not see. Little dost thou
dream thou art soon to meet again with thy old Franz. Through the
thicket, meanwhile, I am going, and mine way is hard and set with
brambles. It is only mine blind faith which helps me onward--that, and
the vision in mine heart of thee, which never for a day, nor even for an
hour, hath been absent.

"One day mine road turns too, and there art thou, mine Beloved, leading
by the hand mine son."

Margaret was sobbing, her face hidden against his shoulder.

"Mine Liebchen, it is not for me to bear thy tears. Much can I endure,
but not that. After the long waiting, I have thee close again, thou and
mine son, the tall young fellow with the honest face and the laughing
ways, who have made of himself one artist.

"The way lies long before us, but it is toward the west, and sunset hath
already begun to come upon the clouds. But until the end we go together,
thy little hand in mine.

"Some day, Beloved, when the ways part once more, and thou or I shall be
called to follow the Grey Angel into the darkness, I think we shall not
fear. Perhaps we shall be very weary, and the one will be glad because
the other has come into the Great Rest. But, Beloved, thou knowest that
if it is I who must follow the Grey Angel, and still leave thee on the
dusty road alone, mine grave will be no division. Life hath not taught
me not to love thee with all mine soul, and Death shall not. Life is the
positive, and Death is the negation. Shall Death, then, do something
more than Life can do? Oh, mine Liebchen, do not fear!"

The Autumn mists were rising and the stars gleamed faintly, like far-off
points of pearl. At the bridge, they said good night, and Margaret went
on home, wishing, even then, that she might bear the burden for Lynn.

The Master went up the hill with his blood singing in his veins.
Fredrika thought him unusually abstracted, but strangely happy, and
until long past midnight, he sat by the window, improvising upon the
Cremona a theme of such passionate beauty that the heart within her
trembled and was afraid.