sation and the jesting, and more and more talkative and
extravagant; he uttered the wildest nonsense, and at last complied with
Pranken's request that he would imitate the candidate Knopf. He
smoothed his hair back, took snuff from his left hand, which he held
like a snuff-box, and constantly tapped; he suddenly assumed a
perfectly strange voice and expression, as, in a stiff, wooden manner,
he declaimed the fourth conjugation, and the precepts of Pythagoras,
with a mixture of all sorts of other things.

"Now can you mimic Herr Dournay?" asked Pranken.

Roland was struck dumb. A stony look came into his face, as if he had
seen some monster; then he grew suddenly calm, and looked at Pranken as
if he would annihilate him, saying,--

"I will never again imitate Candidate Knopf, that I vow from this day
forth."

The boy, who was excited by wine and by talking, became suddenly quiet,
and disappeared, so that the servants had to be sent in search of him.
He was found on the forward deck with his dog, great tears in his eyes;
he allowed himself to be led back to his friends without opposition,
but he continued silent.

The steamboat glided on and on; the vineyards glowed in the midday
sunshine, and soon it was said,--

"Only two more stops, then comes the convent."

Roland went back to his dog, and said,--

"Griffin, now we are going to Manna; aren't you glad?" It was still
high noon when they landed by the weeping-willows on the shore, and
entered the refreshing shade of the park which surrounded the convent.
The servants were left in a large inn on the other bank of the river.

No one was on the shore awaiting the travellers, although their coming
had been announced beforehand.

"Manna not here?" asked Sonnenkamp as he sprang ashore, and the fierce
look, which he generally knew how to conceal, came into his face.

Frau Ceres only turned her head towards him, and he became gentle and
mild.

"I only hope the good child is not sick," he added, in a tone which
would have suited a hermit doing penance.

They went to the convent, whose doors were closed; the church alone was
open, and a nun, with veiled face, was prostrate in prayer, while the
bright sunshine sparkled out of doors. The visitors, who had crossed
the threshold, drew quietly back; they rang at the convent door, and
the portress opened it. Herr Sonnenkamp inquired whether Fraeulein
Hermanna Sonnenkamp were well; the portress answered in the
affirmativ