at was to take
place at the Fortress. Boats ornamented with parti-colored streamers,
having singers on board, went up the river and were greeted at all the
landings with the firing of cannon. Roland requested to go to the
festival, and he wanted to walk a part of the way, desiring to see
again, and this time in company with Eric, the road over which he had
wandered by night.

They set out in good spirits, and Roland was very talkative, relating
to Eric all his adventures. They came to the wood, and Roland gave an
account of his falling asleep, and of his wonderful dream. He blushed
while telling it, and Eric did not ask what his dream was. Roland went
silently into the wood.

"Here it is; here it is!" he suddenly exclaimed. "Here is my
porte-monnaie! God be praised and thanked, I have not been robbed.
Come, let us go to the village, where the hostler lives whom I
suspected, and I will give him all the money."

They proceeded to the village, but the hostler was not there, having
been drafted into the military service.

Roland was very sorry at that, and wrote down the man's name in his
memorandum-book.

The two went on through the country clothed in the green of summer, and
when they reached the railroad, took the cars for the Fortress. All was
here decked with flags, and the whole town appeared in holiday attire.
Men and women streamed in from all quarters, some on boats and some in
the cars, singing in clear tones, and were received with a hearty
welcome. Eric was happy to be able to say to his pupil:--

"Remember that this belongs to us. Neither the Greeks nor the Romans
had such celebrations, nor any other nation but us Germans."

They spent the night at the Fortress, and the next morning all
assembled, the hundreds of male and female singers, and a great crowd
of listeners, in the festival hall now properly ornamented, but at
other times used as a fruit-market. A gloomy rumor was spread through
the assembly; the singers shook their heads, and clapped together their
hands, while among the audience there was a commotion and a rustling.

A man of fine voice, an experienced singer, had been suddenly taken
ill.

"Look yonder," said Roland; "there sit nuns, and there are pupils, in
the school-dress that they wear at Manna's convent. Ah, if Manna should
be here too!"

Eric said to Roland:--

"Stay here; I will see if I can be of any assistance. I depend upon
your not quitting this seat."

He went up to the