ich had been the cause of his gesture of
repulse. The soft notes of a flute came wafted to them over the lake,
nearer and nearer to the spot on the bank where Rossel's villa stood.

"It is he!" said Rossel. "Even the peace of night is not so sacred as
to guard defenseless beings from the attacks of this romantic amateur.
Look here, Kohle, see how the boat is just floating out of the shadow
into the silvery path of the moon--Rosebud stands erect in the centre,
like Lohengrin; and that tall figure at the tiller is undoubtedly
Elfinger's high-mightiness--they are making straight for our
balcony--well, let the will of the gods be done!"

The notes of the flute died away in a melting trill, and immediately
afterward Rosenbusch sprang ashore. "_Salem aleikum!_" he cried, waving
his hat. "We make our attack from the side of the lake, obeying
necessity and not our own desire, for a mouse-hole where two travelers
might lay their heads for the night couldn't be had in Starnberg for
all the gold of California. Saturday and this beautiful weather have
lured half Munich out there. I immediately thought of you, old boy, and
told Elfinger, who thought it would be presumptuous for us to force
ourselves on you without a special invitation, that, in addition to all
sorts of oriental qualities which are hateful to me, you also possessed
three most estimable ones--namely, a number of superfluous divans,
excellent coffee, and a spirit of hospitality worthy of a Bedouin.
Consequently, that, unless your shady roof chanced to be sheltering a
few odalisques who had already taken possession of all the couches, you
would not turn us away from your threshold. At the worst, it won't be
any great misfortune to two jolly juveniles like ourselves to pass a
night, just for once, on the floor of a fishing-boat.

'Upon the laughing wave below,
The stars are mirrored bright;
The mighty heights that frown around
Drink in the mists of night,'"

he sang, to an air of his own composing, his eyes turned upon the
mountains that lay hazy in the distance.

"You are welcome to my poor roof," responded Rossel, with gravity,
cordially shaking hands with the actor, whom he greatly esteemed, and
whose modesty caused him to hang back a little. "All the divans I
possess stand at your service; and of blankets, too, there is no lack.
I only hope, for your sake, that you have already satisfied the grosser
wants of the bo