g a
little verdant spot, formed of mud and stagnant moor and of
putrid green mouldiness, he cries out, Land! He rows
thither, ascends--and sinks and sinks--and is no more to be
seen."--The Golden Fleece of GRILLPARZER.

Old Rosalie was pouring out coffee when Otto came down the next morning.
Peace and resignation to the will of God lay in her soft countenance.
Otto was pale, paler than usual, but handsomer than Rosalie had seen him
before: a year had rendered him older and more manly; a handsome, crisp
beard curled over his chin; manly gravity lay in his eyes, in which,
at his departure, she had only remarked their inborn melancholy glance.
With a kind of satisfaction she looked upon this beautiful, melancholy
countenance, and with cordial affection she stretched forth her hand
toward him.

"Here stands thy chair, Otto; and here thy cup. I will drink to thy
welcome. It seems to me long since I saw thee, and yet it is, now I have
thee again, only a short time. Were that place only not empty!" and
she pointed to the place at the table which the grandfather had used to
occupy.

"If I had only seen him!" said Otto.

"His countenance was so gentle in death," said Rosalie. "The severity
and gravity which had settled in his eyes were softened away. I was
myself present when he was dressed. He had his uniform on, which he
always wore upon occasions of ceremony, the sabre by his side and the
great hat upon his head. I knew that this was his wish!" Quietly she
made the sign of the cross.

"Are all my grandfather's papers sealed?" inquired Otto.

"The most important--those which have the greatest interest for thee,"
said Rosalie, "are in the hands of the preacher. Last year, the day
after thy departure, he gave them to the preacher; thy father's last
letter I know is amongst them."

"My father!" said Otto, and glanced toward the ground. "Yes," continued
he, "there is truth in the words of Scripture,--the sins of the fathers
are visited upon the children unto the third and fourth generation!"

"Otto!" said Rosalie, with a beseeching and reproachful look, "thy
grandfather was a severe man. Thou last known him, hast seen his darkest
moments, and yet then age and cares had softened him: his love to thee
calmed every outbreak. Had he only loved thy father as he loved thee,
things would, perhaps, have ended better: but we may not judge!"

"And what have I done?" said Otto. "Thou, Rosalie, knowest the
hist