room, stood a table overhung with violet-colored satin, upon
which lay the writing-materials already known to Anselmus; and a
stuffed arm-chair, covered with the same sort of cloth, was placed
before it.

"Dear Herr Anselmus," said Archivarius Lindhorst, "you have now copied
me a number of manuscripts, rapidly and correctly, to my no small
contentment: you have gained my confidence; but the hardest is yet to
come; and that is the transcribing or rather painting of certain works
after the original, composed of peculiar signs; I keep them in this
room, and they can be copied only on the spot. You will, therefore, in
future, work here; but I must recommend to you the greatest foresight
and attention; a false stroke, or, which may Heaven forefend, a blot
let fall on the original, will plunge you into misfortune."

Anselmus observed that from the golden trunks of the palm-trees,
little emerald leaves projected: one of these leaves the Archivarius
took hold of; and Anselmus could not but perceive that the leaf was in
truth a roll of parchment, which the Archivarius unfolded and spread
out before the student on the table. Anselmus wondered not a little
at these strangely intertwisted characters; and as he looked over
the many points, strokes, dashes, and twirls in the manuscript, which
seemed to represent either plants or mosses or animal figures, he
almost lost hope of ever copying it. He fell into deep thought on the
subject.

"Be of courage, young man!" cried the Archivarius; "if thou hast
sterling faith and true love, Serpentina will help thee."

His voice sounded like ringing metal; and as Anselmus looked up in
utter terror, Archivarius Lindhorst was standing before him in the
kingly form, which, during the first visit, he had assumed in the
library. Anselmus felt as if in his deep reverence he could not
but sink on his knee; but the Archivarius stepped up the trunk of a
palm-tree, and vanished aloft among the emerald leaves. The student
Anselmus understood that the Prince of the Spirits had been speaking
with him, and was now gone up to his study; perhaps intending to
advise with the beams which some of the planets had dispatched to him
as envoys, on what was to become of Anselmus and Serpentina.

"It may be too," thought he further, "that he is expecting news from
the Springs of the Nile; or that some magician from Lapland is paying
him a visit; me it behooves to set diligently about my task." And
with this, he b