f the lost man opened. Here stood his bed still in disorder as he had
left it; there hung his good coat which the Baroness had had made for
him out of the Baron's old hunting-suit; on the table lay a bowl, six
new wooden spoons, and a box. Herr von S. opened the box; five groschen
lay in it, neatly wrapped in paper, and four silver vest-buttons. The
Baron examined them with interest. "A remembrance from Mergel," he
muttered, and stepped out, for he felt quite oppressed in the musty,
close room. The search was continued until they had convinced themselves
that John was no longer in the vicinity--at least, not alive.

So, then, he had disappeared for the second time! Would they ever find
him again--perhaps some time, after many years, find his bones in a dry
pit? There was little hope of seeing him again alive, or, at all events,
certainly not after another twenty-eight years.

One morning two weeks later young Brandes was passing through the forest
of Brede, on his way from inspecting his preserve. The day was unusually
warm for that time of the year; the air quivered; not a bird was
singing; only the ravens croaked monotonously in the branches and opened
their beaks to the air. Brandes was very tired. He took off his cap,
heated through by the sun; and then he put it on again; but one way was
as unbearable as another, and working his way through the knee-high
underbrush was very laborious. Round about there was not a single tree
save the "Jew's beech"; for that he made, therefore, with all his might,
and stretched himself on the shady moss under it, tired to death. The
coolness penetrated to his limbs so soothingly that he closed his eyes.

"Foul mushrooms!" he muttered, half asleep. There is, you must know, in
that region a species of very juicy mushrooms which live only a few days
and then shrivel up and emit an insufferable odor. Brandes thought he
smelt some of these unpleasant neighbors; he looked around him several
times, but did not feel like getting up; meanwhile his dog leaped about,
scratched at the trunk of the beech, and barked at the tree. "What have
you there, Bello? A cat?" muttered Brandes. He half opened his lids and
the Hebrew inscription met his eye, much distorted but still quite
legible. He shut his eyes again; the dog kept on barking and finally put
his cold nose against his master's face.

"Let me alone! What's the matter with you, anyway?" Brandes was lying on
his back, looking up; suddenly he