disliked the quiet, serious man, and Vogt himself was
just as little drawn to their frivolous ways; nor had women any
attraction for him. He was sufficient unto himself, and looked neither
for friend nor wife; but though he had grown up independent of love, he
yet craved to win for himself some modest amount of grateful
recognition within the narrow limits of the service, and he felt
richly rewarded if a reservist when bidding good-bye gripped his
hand and muttered a few clumsy words of gratitude. Of such were many
good-for-nothings whom he had saved from dangerous follies and their
inevitable punishment, not by rough words, but by kindly counsel. When
he eventually doffed his uniform he had nothing with which to reproach
himself; no neglect and no overstepping of duty, no injustice and no
improper leniency; he had good cause for self-satisfaction.

He was given the post of turnpike-keeper in recognition of his good
service, and could then carry out a long-cherished wish: he took his
sister to live with him. But he did not long enjoy her companionship.
She left him after but a few years, during which she succeeded--not
without difficulty--in bringing some sort of brightness into the life
of her grave brother. She foresaw that he would in all probability
lapse into deeper and deeper gloom when she was no longer there; and on
her deathbed she joined his hand with that of a girl some years younger
than herself, with whom she had struck up a firm friendship. They
respected the wishes of the dead, married, and lived together happily,
thinking themselves the most fortunate of mortals when a son was born
to them. But August Vogt was doomed to loneliness, for his wife died
when the boy was just old enough to go to school.

Shortly after this Vogt inherited a small property from his wife's
father, and the toll on the highway being at the same time abolished,
he bought the now superfluous house cheap from the State, and set up as
a peasant proprietor. He had now a new source of pride: that this land,
which he watered with his sweat, should bring forth abundantly; that
his cattle, whom no strange hand might touch, should be the sleekest
and fattest of all. Solitary and unaided he laboured in house and
field, as if wishing to defy that fate which had torn from him the
only two people he had loved. As he could love them no longer he had
rather be quite alone, save for the little chap who trotted after him
everywhere, and--looking