rticularly when, at the
same time, this person is commonly niggardly of his praise. Henrik
experienced at that moment this feeling in its highest degree; and this
pleasure was accompanied by the yet greater pleasure of seeing himself
understood, and in such a manner by Stjernhoek as made himself more clear
to himself. In this moment he seemed, now for the first time, to
comprehend in a perfectly intelligible manner his own talents, and what
he wished to do, and what he was able to do. The fountain of life
swelled forth strongly in his breast.

"You make me well again, Nils Gabriel!" exclaimed he; "you give me new
life. I will recover; recover in order again to live, in order to work
better and more confidently than I have hitherto done. As yet I have
done nothing; but now, now I could--I feel new life in me--I have never
yet felt myself so well as now! Certainly I shall now recover, or
indeed--is the best wine reserved for me till the last?"

The evening sped on agreeably, and with animation in the family circle.
The blessed angels of heaven were not more beautiful or more joyous than
Henrik. He joked with his mother and sisters, nay, even with Stjernhoek,
in the gayest manner, and was one of the liveliest who partook of the
citron-souffle which Louise served up for supper, and which she herself
had helped to prepare, and of which she was not a little proud. Yes,
indeed, she was almost ready to believe that it was this which had given
new life to Henrik, and the power of which she considered to be
wonderfully operative. But ah!----

At the very moment when Henrik jested with Louise on this very subject,
he was seized by the most violent suffering.

This suffering continued interruptedly for three days, and deprived the
sick young man of consciousness; whilst it seemed to be leading him
quickly to that bound which mercy has set to human sufferings. On the
second day after this paroxysm Henrik was seized with that desire for
change of resting-place which may be commonly regarded as the sign that
the soul is preparing for its great change of abode. The Judge himself
bore his son in his arms from room to room, and from bed to bed. No
sleep visited the eyes of his family during these terrible days; whilst
his mother, with eyes tearless and full of anguish riveted upon her son,
followed him from room to room, and from bed to bed; now hanging over
his pillow, now seated at the foot of his bed, and smiling tenderly upon
him