were that early looking for their
food in the field, and barked at the rising sun.

The tired boy was soon asleep; the dog placed himself by his side, but
he knew his duty, and did not lie down; he remained sitting, and
resisted sleep. Occasionally he winked, however, as if it were hard
work to keep his weary eyes open; then he shook his head, and kept
faithful watch by his master. Suddenly Roland awoke. A child's voice
awakened him.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE LILY OF THE VALLEY.

Roland rubbed his eyes; before him stood a child, a little girl in a
snow-while dress and blue sash. Her face was rosy, great blue eyes
beamed out from it, and long golden curls hung loose over her neck. In
her hand she held a bunch of wild-flowers.

Griffin stood in front of the child, and kept her from coming nearer.

"Back, Griffin!" cried Roland, rising; the dog fell behind his master.

"This is the German forest!" said the child with a foreign accent, and
a voice that might belong to a princess in a fairy tale. "This is the
German forest! I have only been gathering flowers. Are you the forest
prince?"

"No, but who are you?"

"I have come from America. My uncle brought me here this morning, and
now I am to stay in Germany."

"Come, Lilian! Where are you staying so long?" cried a man's voice from
the road.

Roland saw through the trees an open carriage, and a tall, stately
gentleman with snow-white hair.

"I'm coming directly," answered the child; "I have some beautiful
flowers."

"Here, take this one from me," said Roland, gathering a full-blown lily
of the valley.

The little girl threw down all the flowers which she held, took
Roland's, cried, "Good-bye," and ran to the carriage. The man lifted
her in as she pointed back to the wood; the carriage rolled away, and
Roland stood once more alone.

Whoever could then have looked down from the vault of heaven would have
seen a marvel, for at the very moment when the child was talking with
Roland, Sonnenkamp stood on the terrace, lost in thoughts which made
him shiver in the frosty morning air.

Roland pressed his hand to his brow. Had it really happened, or had he
only dreamed? He still heard the roll of the carriage in the distance,
and the plucked flowers on the ground bore witness that he was living
in the actual world. But had the child really said that she was from
America? Why had he not followed her then? Why