He had always been a favorite
with them, and felt sure they would not look on and see him perish.

The stars were just fading in the light of approaching day, when he
reached the top of the mountain-ridge. He looked abroad over the
snow-covered world. Nowhere a sign of life; why must he be living?

A phrase that had haunted him in one of his sleepless nights came now
into his mind: "The white sleep," this was it.

An icy wind from the mountains blew against his fevered checks, and
rudely recalled him to his senses by tearing the hat from his head and
whirling it down the abyss on whose brink he stood. His first impulse
was to rush after it; but a look showed him that it would be rushing to
certain death. One instant the thought flashed through his brain that a
happy accident might thus end his life forever; the next he had put the
cowardly suggestion behind him.

The blinding snow drifted ceaselessly across the ridge. The very raven
scarce was able to guide his flight, but, with fluttering wings, was
driven now high aloft, now deep into the abyss.

Lenz plodded painfully through snow and wind, till at last his eyes
were greeted by the sight of human habitations. The smoke, beaten down
by the wind, was spread in light clouds above the roofs of the houses.
Chimneys were almost unknown in this part of the country.

Lenz sought shelter at the first farm-house. "Welcome, welcome, Lenz! I
am glad you have not forgotten me," exclaimed a tall, handsome woman
standing by the hearth, with the pieces of a stout bough she had just
broken still in her hand.

"What have you done with your hat?"

"I did not recognize you at first. You are Katharine, are you not? How
strong you have grown. Katharine, I am come begging."

"Not so bad as that, I hope, Lenz."

"Yes, but it is though," said Lenz, with a bitter smile. He felt this
was no subject for joking. "You must lend or give me an old hat; mine
has been blown away by the wind."

"Come into the sitting-room. My husband will be sorry not to have been
at home to see you. He is carting wood in the forest."

The bailiff's daughter opened the sitting-room door, and politely
invited Lenz to precede her into the warm, cosey parlor.

He told her frankly when they were seated together that he had had no
intention of coming to see her; that in fact he did not even know where
she lived; but was glad that chance had led him to her door. She took
the confession in good part, saying,