ows more and more beautiful. We had
to drive at a walking-pace because of the deep sand; but these sandy
roads have the advantage of being so quiet that you can hear something
besides the noise of wheels and hoofs. Not till we got to Goehren did we
see the sea, but I heard it all the way, for outside the forest the
breeze had freshened into a wind, and though we hardly felt it I could
see it passing over the pine-tops and hear how they sighed. I suppose we
must have been driving an hour among the pines before we got into a
region of mixed forest--beeches and oaks and an undergrowth of
whortleberries; and then tourists began to flutter among the trees,
tourists with baskets searching for berries, so that it was certain
Goehren could not be far off. We came quite suddenly upon its railway
station, a small building alone in the woods, the terminus of the line
whose other end is Putbus. Across the line were white dunes with young
beeches bending in the wind, and beyond these dunes the sea roared.
Beeches and dunes were in the full glow of the sunset. We, skirting the
forest on the other side, were in deep shadow. The air was so fresh that
it was almost cold. I stopped August and got out and crossed the
deserted line and climbed up the dunes, and oh the glorious sight on the
other side--the glorious, dashing, roaring sea! What was pale Lauterbach
compared to this? A mere lake, a crystal pool, a looking-glass, a place
in which to lie by the side of still waters and dream over your own and
heaven's reflection. But here one could not dream; here was life,
vigorous, stinging, blustering life; and standing on the top of the dune
holding my hat on with both hands, banged and battered by the salt wind,
my clothes flapping and straining like a flag in a gale on a swaying
flagstaff, the weight of a generation was blown off my shoulders, and I
was seized by a craving as unsuitable as it was terrific to run and
fetch a spade and a bucket, and dig and dig till it was too dark to dig
any longer, and then go indoors tired and joyful and have periwinkles or
shrimps for tea. And behold Gertrud, cold reminder of realities, beside
me cloak in hand; and she told me it was chilly, and she put the cloak
round my unresisting shoulders, and it was heavy with the weight of
hours and custom; and the sun dropped at that moment behind the forest,
and all the radiance and colour went out together. 'Thank you, Gertrud,'
I said as she wrapped me up; but th