ale rifts of smoke wavered
across the cold blue sky; great apple and peach orchards swept up the
hills back of the town, quite out of sight. They were in blossom, I
remember, and covered the green of the hills with a veil of delicate
pink. A bleak wind, as we stood there, brought their perfume towards us,
and ruffled the broad, dark river into sudden ripples of cut silver:
beyond that, motion there was none. Looking curiously down into the
town, I could distinguish a great, barn-like church, a public laundry,
bakery, apiary, and one or two other buildings, like factories, but all
empty, apparently, and deserted. After all, was this some quaint German
village brought hither in an enchanted sleep, and dropped down in the
New World? About the houses were silent, trim little gardens, set round
with yew and box cut in monstrous shapes, and filled with plants of
which this soil knew nothing. Up a path from the woods, too, came at
last some curious figures, in a dress belonging to the last century.

Knowles had no idea, like mine, of being bewitched; he rubbed his hands
in a smothered excitement. "We too shall be Arcadians!" he burst out.
"Humphreys!" anxiously, as we plodded down the hill, "we must be
careful, very careful, my boy. These are greatly innocent and pure
natures with which we have come in contact: the world must have grown
vague and dim to them long ago, wrapped in their high communings. We
must leave all worldly words and thoughts outside, as a snake drops his
skin. No talk of money here, lad. It would be as well, too, not to
mention any family ties, such as wife or child: such bonds must seem to
this lofty human brotherhood debasing and gross."

So saying, and dropping Tony's hand in order that the child even might
stand alone, we came into the village street; Knowles growing red with
eagerness as one of the odd figures came towards us. "Careful, Zachary!"
in a hoarse whisper. "It all depends on this first day whether we are
accepted or not. Remember their purity of thought, their forms gathered
from the patriarchs and apostles!"

I had a vague remembrance of a washing of feet, practised in those days;
of calf-killing and open tents for strangers; so stood perplexed while
the brother approached and stood there, like an animate lager-bier
barrel, dressed in flannel, with a round hat on top. "_Was brauchen
Sie?_" he grumbled.

I don't know in what words Knowles's tremulous tones conveyed the idea
that we were