and daughter, just
going down to the boat; he waved a distant farewell with his hat, and
with a rapid step went up the hill behind the ruins of the castle,
overlooking the convent. He continued sitting there for a long time,
gazing fixedly at the convent on the island. He heard songs from maiden
voices, saw the long row of windows brightly lighted up, and at last,
looking up to the stars, he exclaimed, "O mother!" What did that mean?
Perhaps his mother had said to him, that at some time or other a
wonderful experience would come over him. The nightingale in the
thicket sang on unceasingly, and the young man listened to the song,
but would gladly have silenced it in order that he might hear more
plainly the singing of the children in the convent, who with magic
power had conjured up a dream of heaven into their actual life, and for
one hour become choirs of singing angels. "Alone in the spring night,
amidst the Castle-ruins with beating heart! Can it be I?" said the
young man to himself.

He descended the hill, and as he reached the inn, met the man with the
two women just ready to start for the rail-road station. He would have
liked to ask the girl who that wonderful apparition was, but he
restrained himself. What would be the use? Better that thou knowest her
not; then the charm of the vision is pure and undisturbed. He went into
the inn; he sat there and read the bill of fare without knowing what he
was reading, and what he should select. He stared at the card until the
waiter came and asked for it, in order to give it to another guest. He
ordered what happened to meet his eye. "What wine would you like? We
have 'Drachenblut' of a choice vintage." "Bring some Drachenblut."

He ate and drank without knowing what; he only knew that he must eat
and drink something; absently he took up a newspaper lying upon the
table. What are convents? what are ruined castles? what is the
apparition of a girl with wings? Here is the world, the real, the
stirring, the actual world of to-day. You come into an inn, weary after
a wide survey from a mountain top, and involuntarily you lay hold of a
newspaper,--why is this? It may be that the eye and the mind, tired out
by the manifestations of unmoving nature, become refreshed by viewing
what is perpetually changing in the world; you are alone, you need to
hear some word spoken by one to many, and the newspaper tells you about
the world which has kept on its way while you were dreaming, wh