t. And then they
parted. Knud did not offer her his hand, but she seized it, and said,

"Surely you will shake hands with your sister at parting, old
playfellow!"

And she smiled through the tears that were rolling over her cheeks,
and she repeated the word "brother"--and certainly there was good
consolation in that--and thus they parted.

She sailed to France, and Knud wandered about the muddy streets of
Copenhagen. The other journeymen in the workshop asked him why he went
about so gloomily, and told him he should go and amuse himself with
them, for he was a young fellow.

And they went with him to the dancing-rooms. He saw many handsome
girls there, but certainly not one like Joanna; and here, where he
thought to forget her, she stood more vividly than ever before the
eyes of his soul. "Heaven gives us strength for a great deal, if we
only try to do our best," she had said; and holy thoughts came into
his mind, and he folded his hands. The violins played, and the girls
danced round in a circle; and he was quite startled, for it seemed to
him as if he were in a place to which he ought not to have brought
Joanna--for she was there with him, in his heart; and accordingly he
went out. He ran through the streets, and passed by the house where
she had dwelt: it was dark there, dark everywhere, and empty, and
lonely. The world went on its course, but Knud pursued his lonely way,
unheedingly.

The winter came, and the streams were frozen. Everything seemed to be
preparing for a burial. But when spring returned, and the first
steamer was to start, a longing seized him to go away, far, far into
the world, but not to France. So he packed his knapsack, and wandered
far into the German land, from city to city, without rest or peace;
and it was not till he came to the glorious old city of Nuremberg that
he could master his restless spirit; and in Nuremberg, therefore, he
decided to remain.

Nuremberg is a wonderful old city, and looks as if it were cut out of
an old picture-book. The streets seem to stretch themselves along just
as they please. The houses do not like standing in regular ranks.
Gables with little towers, arabesques, and pillars, start out over the
pathway, and from the strange peaked roofs water-spouts, formed like
dragons or great slim dogs, extend far over the street.

Here in the market-place stood Knud, with his knapsack on his back. He
stood by one of the old fountains that are adorned with splendid