a gathering, except in
case of fire, was utterly unprecedented. Now the gleam of several
wavering lights penetrated the dark room seemingly stationary before
the house. Still the dreamer's attention was not aroused. Not until the
street had again become perfectly silent and a duet began, softly sung
by two voices without, did Edwin start up. What was that? Who was
singing that beautiful, familiar melody, which he could never hear
without deep emotion, since it had been the last greeting of Balder's
friends, ere they left him to his eternal repose? _Integer vitae_--now
it rose again, sung before his house by young, fresh voices, a greeting
of life to the living. At first he listened without thinking how it
happened that the old tune was now heard outside. Its melody fell so
softly on his heart, and the words, with which he was perfectly
familiar, seemed like the friendly consolation of a good spirit,
closely allied to him. When the fourth verse began, he rose gently and
approached the closed window. The street was crowded with people, whose
faces were all turned toward him, though he was evidently not yet
perceived against the dark background of the room for the expression of
expectation, which rested on every countenance, did not alter as he
approached. In the centre stood the singers, pupils belonging to the
first classes of his school; his colleague, the singing-master, had
stationed himself before the semi-circle, and by the light of some
torches was beating time as intently as if some grand musical
exhibition were taking place in a hall. Among the bystanders Edwin
recognized many of the most prominent citizens in the place, the
president of the workmen's society and several friends and neighbors,
and could no longer doubt that the serenade was intended for him, a
discovery, which even in his dark hiding place, made him blush to his
temples.

What could have induced these good people, who as he well knew, were
his friends, to express their feelings to him on this particular day,
and in such a manner? Who had arranged this conspiracy so secretly,
that even Franzelius, who would certainly have prepared him, had heard
nothing of it? He was just resolving to choose the simplest way of
solving the mystery, by going out and inquiring, when the door was
cautiously opened and one of his younger colleagues, the teacher of
history, with an exclamation of joy, entered the dark room. "So you are
at home!" he cried, eagerly gra