essed him.
"They have so good an opinion of thee," he said to himself, "which thou
dost not deserve." Since he had admitted his unworthiness to himself by
his foolish flight, and affirmed this acknowledgment in the
confessional and in a written declaration, he knew himself as if
portrayed. His inward impurity if but only of a negative kind had
become external and practical, and it seemed to him as if thereby the
intended sin had been in reality committed. Involuntarily he sought to
discover in the face of each acquaintance whether his flight was known
in Heidelberg, and yet he dared not make the slightest allusion to it,
lest he should himself betray it. His secret ever on his lips, he
feared that he himself might reveal it. Ever listening to hear it,
terrified by any accidental word, guileless did he wish to live among
the guileless, and nevertheless he ever thought of his sin, and the
most insignificant allusion drove the blood to his heart. Thus did he
sojourn among men, humble, fearful, modest, nevertheless full of
suspicion and mistrust, with that shy manner peculiar to nocturnal
animals by day, an image of an evil conscience worthy of all pity.
Besides this an especial punishment caused by an accidental
circumstance, of which no one had the slightest conception, was
reserved for him. There are new melodies which spread like epidemics,
for a while rule the market, till finally they are as totally forgotten
as their predecessors. The newest melody for the time in Heidelberg was
the Gavotte of that jovial Huguenot Henry IV. of France: "Oh! thou
beauteous Gabrielle," heard played by Paul on the day when he took
flight to Speyer. The baker's boy who left the warm bread of a morning
at each house, whistled in shrill notes, "Oh! thou beauteous
Gabrielle." The cobbler's boy who carried the boots and shoes repaired
for his master's customers took good care that it should not be
forgotten. From out of the open windows was heard the "beauteous
Gabrielle" in whose honor the maidens of the Palatinate let their
passionate thoughts pour forth. The "beauteous Gabrielle" was played of
an evening by the bands in the public gardens, and drunken students
sought their beds late after midnight humming the tune of the
"beauteous Gabrielle." If this eternal repetition became wearisome to
nervous people, it connected itself ever in Paul's mind with his
downfall. If his thoughts had once freed themselves from the
comfortless recollection o