ouch turns to gold, you have not the heart to leave it. I became
old and grey by degrees--I scarcely know how. Then I was seized with
illness--very severe illness. I remember nothing of what occurred
during several weeks; but when I was recovering they told me that when
I was delirious, I spoke in a language that no one could understand,
except the doctor, who knew a word or two here and there, and said it
was German, but he scarcely comprehended me. I had often called out
'Cain!' and said, 'What is the price of the lad?' Then I thought of old
Caballero, whom I had seen in Valencia on his deathbed. Suppose you
were one day to lie and thirst for water, as he did, and no man to know
a word you were saying! Now my resolution was finally taken. Home,
home, home! I soon got well, for I have a good constitution: I had
settled my plans, and no obstacle should prevent my going home. If my
brother creeps to me humbly, and says, 'I have not behaved well to
you,' then I will stay with him till I die. How long may that be? What
is all the world to us, when we have not those near and dear to us? On
the journey--for at last I had actually started--I was just like a
child who runs gaily home after escaping into the wood. I was often
obliged to remember how old I was, and the hatred of my brother began
to plague me again, and such a feeling is like an ever open wound.

"I got home at last.

"When I entered the valley, I felt as if the hills rose to come to meet
me.

"I drove through several villages--so and so lived there. I no longer
knew the names of the places, but when I had passed them I remembered
the names. I came into our own village. It was a fine summer
evening--the people had been haymaking, and the bells were ringing:
it was as if I all of a sudden heard voices once more, that I no
longer believed to be in the world. I had heard many bells during the
forty-two years I had been in other lands, but no tones so sweet as
these. I took off my hat involuntarily; but when the air of my own home
blew round my head, it revived and refreshed me--there seemed a welcome
home in it. I can't tell you how I felt: I thought my grey hairs must
become young again. I recognised very few of the people I met on the
road; but I knew you, Doctor, at once, for you were so like your
father. Not a soul recognised me. I stopped at the 'Lion,' and
asked--'Is Lorenz of the Morgenhalde at home?' 'At home! What do you
mean? He has been dead for seven