he seemed to trace the outspread of a faint, not wholly
natural, aurora over the dark northern country. And it was in an
actual sunrise that the news came which finally put him on the
directest road homewards. One hardly dared breathe in the rapid uprise
of all-embracing light which seemed like the intellectual rising of the
Fatherland, when up the straggling path to his high beech-grown summit
(was one safe nowhere?) protesting over the roughness of the way, came
the too familiar voices (ennui itself made audible) of certain high
functionaries of Rosenmold, come to claim their new sovereign, close
upon the runaway.

Bringing news of the old Duke's decease! With a real grief at his
heart, he hastened now over the ground which lay between him and the
bed of death, still trying, at quieter intervals, to snatch profit by
the way; peeping, at the most unlikely hours, on the objects of his
curiosity, waiting for a glimpse of dawn through glowing [148] church
windows, penetrating into old church treasuries by candle-light, taxing
the old courtiers to pant up, for "the view," to this or that
conspicuous point in the world of hilly woodland. From one such at
last, in spite of everything with pleasure to Carl, old Rosenmold was
visible--the attic windows of the Residence, the storks on the
chimneys, the green copper roofs baking in the long, dry German summer.
The homeliness of true old Germany! He too felt it, and yearned
towards his home.

And the "beggar-maid" was there. Thoughts of her had haunted his mind
all the journey through, as he was aware, not unpleased, graciously
overflowing towards any creature he found dependent upon him. The mere
fact that she was awaiting him, at his disposition, meekly, and as
though through his long absence she had never quitted the spot on which
he had said farewell, touched his fancy, and on a sudden concentrated
his wavering preference into a practical decision. "King Cophetua"
would be hers. And his goodwill sunned her wild-grown beauty into
majesty, into a kind of queenly richness. There was natural majesty in
the heavy waves of golden hair folded closely above the neck, built a
little massively; and she looked kind, beseeching also, capable of
sorrow.

She was like clear sunny weather, with bluebells and the green leaves,
between rainy days, and seemed to embody Die Ruh auf dem Gipfel--all
[149] the restful hours he had spent of late in the wood-sides and on
the hilltops. O