CHAPTER V.

A DAY'S CRUIZE.

THE weather was no better, but the Count's soupers were no more so prolonged, for Johannes now sat in his room at work, and the Count had business to settle with tenants and bailiffs. Johannes had received the commission to prepare a paper for the scientific society in London, which intended to send a deputation to Berlin on some festive occasion. Johannes was to join it, and the great name of Humboldt held out a strong attraction. For the first time in his own country he found free access to men to whom he looked up, and strove to reach, and who shone before him as the best of the nation! What a feeling in his own country! It is true, it was under the protection, and at the desire, of the foreigner! He felt the ambition to make a name for himself, though the name which he bore were not that which his father had given him. He cherished the hope of an approximation and personal acquaintance with men of distinguished mind, and he exulted in the

idea that he would perhaps in time find employment in the fatherland, and no longer have to use a foreign language, but his own-the language which Luther and Lessing had made great, which Goethe had perfected, which touched his heart, warmed his feelings, and enlightened his mind, whenever he approached it! None but those who live in a foreign land know what it means to miss their mother tongue.

The Count, having himself business to do, did not disturb him when he now needed repose. There was profound stillness in the castle; sometimes he caught the sound of a piano when the Countess played-only, it is true, what she had learned under the superintendence of her teacher; but she had a good master, and when not heard too often, what she played was agreeable. Johannes worked more pleasantly under the impression which distant music produced on him. It had a strange power over his mind. The sounds which had reached his garret-room from Franziska's music had awakened the first dim feeling in his soul of his connexion with other human beings; from a world of his own, which his imagination had fashioned, he had come to Franziska. Her good face, her serious eyes, her true voice, had produced in him softer feelings.

When he now thought over his life, he knew that he had never felt so peacefully happy as in that first brotherly affection of his youth. Franziska was true and steadfast. She believed in the good, for she was good herself. Hearty, warm, naturally good, designed for simple retirement. Such had been his fate. Who could have been happier than he? Only there was something in him, and that the gods regulated; they had breathed it into him. Now they must see whether they had ordained good or evil for him! Franziska's gentle image had been repressed by it into a sort of misty distance. Occasionally he mourned for her, but still more for himself and that which he had lost with her.

The scientific congress was to meet within the next few weeks. Johannes was to join the gentlemen who came from London; and he gladly accepted the invitation of the Count, who wished him to remain with him until that time should arrive.

Meanwhile the castle had suddenly become full of life. One morning the carriage was required in all haste, to bring Lord Arthur to the castle, his yacht having arrived in the bay of the adjacent fishing village. It was again bad weather; so much rain had not fallen within the memory of the oldest people.

It was the first visit Lord Arthur had paid since his father's marriage. His demeanour towards his step-mother was perfect. He only intended remaining three days. There was then an entertainment at the Hanoverian Court, the birthday of some high personage. It was out of delicate consideration for his father's wife that Lord Arthur had wished to present himself on this occasion to the king, who, as an English prince, imposed the duty upon him. In two days they were all to start. We shall leave you here, dear Olaf,' said the Count, but we shall find you still here when

we return.'

Meanwhile, to celebrate the presence of the son, all the nobles, whose estates and castles were scattered here and there in the neighbourhood, were invited to dinner. Arthur submitted to everything with a certain formality. He felt himself, as he told his father, so completely recovered from his lung affection, that he had come to show himself to him before setting out for Norway, where he was going to hunt with some friends. Parliament was not to meet again till autumn. There was something cold and hard in Lord Arthur's physiognomy and manner, but he exhibited a certain elasticity. Towards the party to whom he belonged he seemed almost to feel

himself like a royal prince. His pride isolated him, but it saved him from frivolity and pettiness. The Count could not refrain from venting himself to Johannes about the stupid arrogance of certain people, and declaring with some self-complacency that a man of rank must possess taste and mind to exhibit the urbanity of a Mæcenas.

'You will have no objection to sail about the coast in the yacht in which you and I have already made many a voyage?' said Lord Arthur to Johannes.

It was still early in the morning, and again it was bad weather. In a bay, some eight miles seaward, they cast anchor. Lord Arthur had a desire to shoot the wild duck, which make their nests on the low shore of the little river, under the shelter of reeds and bulrushes. After they had sailed about the morass for a time, and had carried off some booty, they landed, and went into the hotel in the large market town, where the nobleman found a heated room, and where his servant provided him with dry clothing. They had got perfectly wet through in the open boat. The mouth of the little river was choked with sand, so that the yacht had to lie at anchor at the entrance