work of
you; but, setting that aside, you must acknowledge, my dearest friend,
that it is rapidly growing dark, and there are no lamps burning
to-night so that, even though I did not kick you downstairs at once,
your darling limbs might still run a risk of suffering damage. Go home
by all means; and cherish a kind remembrance of your faithful friend,
if it should happen that you never,--pray, understand me,--if you
should never see him in his own house again." Therewith he embraced
me, and, still keeping fast hold of me, turned with me slowly towards
the door, so that I could not get another single look at Antonia. Of
course it is plain enough that in my position I couldn't thrash the
Councillor, though that is what he really deserved. The Professor
enjoyed a good laugh at my expense, and assured me that I had ruined
for ever all hopes of retaining the Councillor's friendship. Antonia
was too dear to me, I might say too holy, for me to go and play the
part of the languishing lover and stand gazing up at her window, or to
fill the _role_ of the lovesick adventurer. Completely upset, I went
away from H----; but, as is usual in such cases, the brilliant colours
of the picture of my fancy faded, and the recollection of Antonia, as
well as of Antonia's singing (which I had never heard), often fell upon
my heart like a soft faint trembling light, comforting me.

Two years afterwards I received an appointment in B----, and set out on
a journey to the south of Germany. The towers of M---- rose before me
in the red vaporous glow of the evening; the nearer I came the more was
I oppressed by an indescribable feeling of the most agonising distress;
it lay upon me like a heavy burden; I could not breathe; I was obliged
to get out of my carriage into the open air. But my anguish continued
to increase until it became actual physical pain. Soon I seemed to hear
the strains of a solemn chorale floating in the air; the sounds
continued to grow more distinct; I realised the fact that they were
men's voices chanting a church chorale. "What's that? what's that?" I
cried, a burning stab darting as it were through my breast "Don't you
see?" replied the coachman, who was driving along beside me, "why,
don't you see? they're burying somebody up yonder in yon churchyard."
And indeed we were near the churchyard; I saw a circle of men clothed
in black standing round a grave, which was on the point of being
closed. Tears started to my eyes; I some