er order. Upon the wall hung
the black painted target, near to the centre of which he had once shot.
His skates lay upon the chest of drawers, near to the nodding plaster
figure. The long journey, and the overpowering surprise which awaited
him on his return, had strongly affected him: he opened the window;
a large white sand-hill rose like a wall straight up before it, and
deprived him of all view. How often, when a child, had the furrows
made by rain in the sand, and the detached pieces, presented to him
pictures,--towns, towers, and whole marching armies. Now it was only a
white wall, which reminded him of a winding-sheet. A small streak of the
blue sky was visible between the house and the steep slope of the hill.
Never before had Otto felt, never before reflected, what it was to stand
alone in the world, to be lovingly bound to no one with the band of
consanguinity.

"Solitary, as in this silent night do I stand in the world! solitary in
the mighty crowd of human beings! Only ONE being can I call mine! only
ONE being press as kindred to my heart! And I shudder at the thought of
meeting with this being--I should bless the thought that she was dead!
Father! thou didst ruin one being and make three miserable. I have
never loved thee; bitterness germinated within my breast when I
became acquainted with thee! Mother! thy features have died out of my
recollection; I revere thee! Thou wast all love; to love didst thou
offer up thy life--more than life! Pray for me with thy God! Pray for
me, ye dead! if there is immortality; if the flesh is not alone born
again in grass and the worm; if the soul is not lost in floods of air!
We shall be unconscious of it: eternally shall we sleep! eternally!"
Otto supported his forehead upon the window-frame, his arm sank
languidly, "Mother! poor mother! thou didst gain by death, even if it
be merely an eternal sleep,--asleep without dreams! We have only a short
time to live, and yet we divide our days of life with sleep! My body
yearns after this short death! I will sleep--sleep like all my beloved
ones! They do not awaken!" He threw himself upon the bed. The cold air
from the sea blew through the open window. The wearied body conquered;
he sank into the death-like sleep, whilst his doubting soul, ever
active, presented him with living dreams.

CHAPTER XIV

"Man seems to me a foolish being; he drives along over the
waves of time, endlessly thrown up and down, and descryin