. A moment he stood
silent and undecided, then his limbs trembled involuntarily, tears
streamed from his eyes--it was a convulsive fit of weeping; he pressed
his head back. "God, how unfortunate I am!" were his only words.

So passed some minutes; he had ceased to weep, and was calm; suddenly he
sprang up, shot the bolt in the door, drew down the blinds, lighted his
candle, and once more looked searchingly around: the key-hole was also
stopped up. He then flung his coat away from him and uncovered the upper
part of his body.

CHAPTER VII

"The towers pass by, even before we perceive them."
OEHLENSCHLAeER'S Journey to Fuenen.

Early the following morning, whilst Wilhelm still slept and dreamed of
his beloved sisters, well-known footsteps sounded on the stairs, the
door opened, and Otto stepped into the sleeping-room. Wilhelm opened his
eyes. Otto was pale; a sleepless night and sorrow of heart had breathed
upon his brow and eyes.

"Thostrup!" cried Wilhelm, with joyous surprise, and stretched forth
his hand toward him, but it again sank; Otto seized it, and pressed it
firmly in his own, adding at the same time, with gravity,--"You have
humbled me! Is that sufficient satisfaction for you?"

"We are then friends!" said Wilhelm. "Friends must be very indulgent
toward each other. Yesterday you were a little strange, to-morrow I may
be so; that is the way in which one retaliates."

Otto pressed his hand. "We will never speak again of the occurrence of
yesterday!"

"Never!" repeated Wilhelm, affected by the strange gravity of his
friend.

"You are a noble, a good creature!" said Otto, and bent over him; his
lips touched Wilhelm's forehead.

Wilhelm seized his hand, and gazed frankly into his eye. "You are not
happy!" exclaimed he. "If I cannot assist you, I can, at least, dear
Otto, honestly share the grief of a friend!"

"Even on that very point we may never speak!" replied Otto. "Farewell!
I have determined on travelling home; we have only vacation for a few
weeks, and I have not been in Jutland since I became a student. Even a
month's sojourn there cannot throw me back; I am well prepared for the
philosophicum."

"And when will you set out?" asked Wilhelm.

"To-morrow, with the steamboat. It is hot and sultry here in the city:
my blood becomes heated: it will, also, soon be a year since I saw my
family."

"Thostrup!" exclaimed Wilhelm, through whom a thought suddenly flashed,