it which had
possession of his inner soul. It had grown quite dark, the friend
wanted to send for lights. But Anselmus, taking hold of both his arms,
said: "If you would, for once, do me a real favour, don't have lights
brought. Let's be content with the dim shining of that Astral lamp
which is sending its glimmer from the closet there. You can do what you
please--drink tea, smoke tobacco, but don't smash any cups, or throw
lighted matches on to my new trousers. Either of those things would not
only pain me, but would make an unnecessary noise and disturbance in
the enchanted garden into which I have at last managed to get to-day,
and in which I am enjoying myself to my soul's content. I shall go and
lie on that sofa."

He did so. After a considerable pause, he began:

"To-morrow morning at eight o'clock it will be exactly two years since
Count von der Lobau marched out from Dresden with twelve thousand men
and four-and-twenty guns, to fight his way to the Meissner Hills."

"Well," said his friend, "I have been sitting here on the stretch of an
expectation, almost of a devout description, thinking I was going to
hear of some celestial manifestation, coming hovering out of your
enchanted garden--and this is all? What interest do I take in Count von
der Lobau and his expedition? And fancy you remembering that there were
just twelve thousand men and four-and-twenty guns. When did military
details of the sort begin to effect a lodgment in that head of yours?"

"Are those days of mystery and fatality," said Anselmus, "which we
passed through so short a time ago so completely forgotten by you that
you no longer recollect the manner in which the armed monster grasped
us and drove us? The _noli turbare_ no longer held in check our own
exertions of force, and we would not _be_ held in check or protected,
for in every heart the demon made deep wounds, and, driven by wild
torture, every hand grasped the unfamiliar sword, not for defence,
no--for attack, that the hateful ignominy might be atoned for, and
revenged, by Death! Even at this hour there comes upon me, in bodily
form of flesh and blood, that power which was active in those days
of darkness, and drove me forth from art and science into that
blood-stained tumult. Was it possible, do you think, for me to go on
sitting at my desk? I hurried up and down the streets, I followed the
troops when they marched out, as far as I dared, merely to see with my
own eyes as much as I