oon, which was to unlock his paradise. And yet while
his whole soul was turned to the sweet Serpentina and the wonders of
Archivarius Lindhorst's fairy kingdom, he could not help now and then
thinking of Veronica; nay, often it seemed as if she came before him
and confessed with blushes how heartily she loved him, how much
she longed to rescue him from the phantoms which were mocking and
befooling him. At times he felt as if a foreign power, suddenly
breaking in on his mind, were drawing him with resistless force to the
forgotten Veronica; as if he must needs follow her whither she pleased
to lead him, nay, as if he were bound to her by ties that would not
break. That very night after Serpentina had first appeared to him
in the form of a lovely maiden, after the wondrous secret of the
Salamander's nuptials with the green Snake had been disclosed,
Veronica, came before him more vividly than ever. Nay, not till he
awoke was he clearly aware that he had been but dreaming; for he had
felt persuaded that Veronica was actually beside him, complaining with
an expression of keen sorrow, which pierced through his inmost soul,
that he should sacrifice her deep, true love to fantastic visions,
which only the distemper of his mind called into being, and which,
moreover, would at last prove his ruin. Veronica was lovelier than he
had ever seen her; he could not drive her from his thoughts: and in
this perplexed and contradictory mood he hastened out, hoping to get
rid of it by a morning walk.

A secret magic influence led him on to the Pirna gate; he was just
turning into a cross street, when Conrector Paulmann, coming after
him, cried out: "Ey! Ey!--Dear Herr Anselmus!--_Amice! Amice_! Where,
in Heaven's name, have you been buried so long? We never see you at
all. Do you know, Veronica is longing very much to have another song
with you! So come along; you were just on the road to me, at any
rate."

The student Anselmus, constrained by this friendly violence, went
along with the Conrector. On entering the house they were met by
Veronica, attired with such neatness and attention that Conrector
Paulmann, full of amazement, asked her: "Why so decked, Mam'sell? Were
you expecting visitors? Well, here I bring you Herr Anselmus." The
student Anselmus, in daintily and elegantly kissing Veronica's hand
felt a small soft pressure from it, which shot like a stream of fire
over all his frame. Veronica was cheerfulness, was grace itself; and