s. The Head Forester laughing heartily,
cried out:

"Monsieur Seiler, come and sit down under the acacia tree and drink some
of your own wine. Ah, my wife is right when she calls you our benefactor."

Mr. Zacharias seated himself at the little round table, placing his pole
behind him; Charlotte sat facing him, Yeri Foerster was on his right; then
dinner was served and Mr. Seiler started to speak of his plans for the
future.

He was wealthy and had inherited a fine fortune from his parents. He
wished to buy some few hundred acres of forest land in the valley, and
build in the midst a forester's lodge. "We would always be together," he
said turning to Yeri Foerster, "sometimes you at my house, sometimes I at
yours."

Christine gave her advice, and they chatted, planning now one thing, then
another. Charlotte seemed perfectly contented, and Zacharias imagined that
these simple people understood him.

Thus the time passed, and when night had fallen and they had had a surfeit
of Rikevir, of rabbit and of Dame Christine's "koechten" sprinkled with
cinnamon. Mr. Seiler, happy and contented, full of joyous hope, ascended
to his room, putting off until to-morrow his declaration, not doubting for
a moment but that it would be accepted.

About this time of the year the mountaineers from Harberg, Kusnacht and
the surrounding hamlets descend from their mountains about one o'clock in
the morning and commence to mow the high grass in the valleys. One can
hear their monotonous songs in the middle of the night keeping time to the
circular movement of the scythes, the jingle of the cattle bells, and the
young men's and girls' voices laughing afar in the silence of the night.
It is a strange harmony, especially when the night is clear and there is a
bright moon, and the heavy dew falling makes a pitter-patter on the leaves
of the great forest trees.

Mr. Zacharias heard nothing of all this, for he was sleeping soundly; but
the noise of a handful of peas being thrown against the window waked him
suddenly. He listened and heard outside at the bottom of the wall, a
"scit! scit!" so softly whispered that you might almost think it the cry
of some bird. Nevertheless, the good man's heart fluttered.

"What is that?" he cried.

After a few seconds' silence a soft voice replied:

"Charlotte, Charlotte--it is I!"

Zacharias trembled; and as he listened with ears on the alert for each
sound, the foliage on the trellis struck against the