saved, thou art on the way to the goal. None of thy follies wilt thou
repent; none wilt thou wish to repeat."

The curtain opened; the abbe came into view. "Come hither," he cried to
his marvelling friend. Wilhelm mounted the steps. On the table lay a
little roll.

"Here is your indenture," said the abbe. "Take it to heart; it is of
weighty import." Wilhelm opened it, and read:

"_INDENTURE_.

"_Art is long, life short, judgment difficult, opportunity
transient. To act is easy, to think is hard, to act according
to our thought is troublesome. It is but a part of art that
can be taught; the artist needs it all. Who knows it half,
speaks much, and is always wrong; who knows it all, speaks
seldom, and is inclined to act. No one knows what he is doing
while he acts aright; but of wrong-doing we are always
conscious. The instruction which the true artist gives us
opens the mind, for where words fail him, deeds speak. The
true scholar learns from the known to unfold the unknown, and
approaches more and more to being a master_----"

"Enough," cried the abbe; "the rest in due time. Now look round you
among these cases." With astonishment Wilhelm found, among others,
"_Lothario's Apprenticeship," "Jarno's Apprenticeship_," and his own
"_Apprenticeship_" placed there. "May I hope to look into these rolls?"

"In this chamber nothing is now hid from you."

Wilhelm heard a noise behind him, and saw a child's face peeping through
the tapestry at the end of the room. It was Felix. His father rushed
towards him, took him in his arms, and pressed him to his heart.

"Yes, I feel it," cried he. "Thou art mine. For what a gift of Heaven
have I to thank my friends! How comest thou, my child, at this important
moment?"

"Ask not," said the abbe. "Hail, young man! Thy apprenticeship is done;
nature has pronounced thee free."

After sorrow, often and in vain repeated, for the loss of Mariana,
Wilhelm felt that he must find a mother for the boy; and also, that he
could not find one equal to Theresa. With this gifted lady he was now
thoroughly acquainted. Such a spouse and helpmate seemed the only one to
trust to in such circumstances. Her affection for Lothario did not make
him hesitate; she looked on herself as free; she had even spoken of
marrying, with indifference, indeed, but as a matter understood.

Before Theresa's answer came to hand, Lothario sent for our friend.