n, 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 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 the restful hours he had spent of late in the wood-sides
and on the hilltops. One June day, on which she seemed to have
withdrawn into herself all the tokens of summer, brought decision to
our lover of artificial roses, who had cared so little hitherto for the
like of her. Grand-duke perforce, he would make her his wife, and had
already re-assured her with lively mockery of his horrified ministers.
"Go straight to life!" said his new poetic code; and here was the
opportunity;--here, also, the real "adventure," in comparison of which
his previous efforts that way seemed childish theatricalities, fit only
to cheat a little the profound ennui of actual life. In a hundred
stolen interviews she