m it to go travelling with. I
would take with me a dozen or more companions, honest, capable men,
naturalists, painters, sculptors, merchants, politicians, teachers--in
a word, capable men from all callings. I would have them equipped with
everything needful, and we would stop wherever and as long as we chose.
In this way I would learn what are the best social arrangements in the
world, and when I came home I'd establish similar ones. I do not expect
to find it out all at once. Only think what a fine thing such a journey
would be, with a dozen or more right clever men, with our own ship for
the sea, and with mules for the mountains. In a word, it would be
splendid, and useful at the same time. And when Roland comes home he
must turn agriculturist; it is altogether the best life; that is to
say, man has in that life the best basis to stand upon--the most
natural basis. But, as I said, I am counting my chickens before they
are hatched."

Eric hardly heard what Knopf was saying, and for the first time woke up
out of his dreams when Knopf asked him,--

"Where is Roland? I promised to wake him in time for the departure of
Doctor Fritz and his child."

"Just let him sleep."

"On your responsibility?"

"On my responsibility."

"Very well," rejoined Knopf. "Indeed, I had rather not wake him. In
that way Roland will have to suffer a pretty little bit of romantic
pain. I cannot tolerate this sentimental nonsense between children. Now
he has taken his leave, or rather not taken his leave in the night, and
while he was sleeping she disappeared; that is a bit of romantic pain.
This taking leave! In the morning, shivering and shaking on the
steamer-landing, or at the railroad station, you take leave; then the
ship or the train moves off, then you stand there like one who has been
robbed, and then you have got to go back. Ah, it is so absurd! I shiver
a whole day after a farewell. But now if Roland wakes up and the child
has flown away, that may leave a sweet, strong, ecstatic remembrance
behind in the soul; and we too, you, Doctor, and I, are both giants in
this children's story."

At this point Herr and Frau Weidmann came upon the scene, as well as
their sons, the Russian, the Banker, and all the inmates of the house.
All shook hands once more with Doctor Fritz and his child, and Lilian
cried,--

"Herr Knopf, give my compliments to Roland, the sleeper."

Away rolled the carriage, the inmates of the house retired to bed;