d before his
eyes.

He rode into the village.

Here all was quiet. He drew up at the field-guard's house, he knew not
for what reason. The blackbird was singing alone in the still night,
'Rejoice in your life.' She got no farther on in the tune, and this
melody, so old and yet so good, now accompanied Eric, and chimed in
with the hoof-beats of his swift steed.

From the village he made a bend, and rode up the height where he had
formerly sat with Knopf. He had asked Knopf: What would you do if you
should come into the possession of millions? And now it seemed to him
that a hundred-pound weight lay upon his shoulders. He called out into
the night:--

"No, I shall not become the possessor of millions, no, never!"

Now Weidmann's plans rushed into his mind. Above, on the height yonder,
hundreds of men were living on their own acres, which once they had
never thought of owning, free and happy in the independence secured
through that man.

The horse looked round at his rider, as he exclaimed aloud:--

"That would be the thing? But on property so obtained? No!"

Quietly he rode down the mountain, and came in sight of the villa, and
the glass of the hot-houses, but he turned his horse's head again. Yes,
he must tell one man, one only. He rode to the Major's. Like a wanderer
who sees a distant gleam of light, he was glad at heart when he saw the
light twinkling in the modest house.

The Major, who had heard the clattering of hoofs--and he knew the black
horse's trot--called out of the window:--

"Herr Baron von Lichtenburg, are you here so soon?"

"Up to this time my name has been Eric Dournay," replied the horseman.
He dismounted, tied the horse to the garden-fence, entered the house,
and was welcomed cordially by both of the inmates.

"What's to pay? Is all well?" asked the Major.

Eric relieved the anxiety of the Major, who kept saying:--

"Just see, Fraeulein Milch,--don't be afraid to put on your
spectacles,--just see! our Herr Eric looks like another being. You're
in a fever; how red your lips are!"

Eric could not reply; he could not say that they were still burning
with kisses.

The Major went to a cupboard, and mixing a powder in half a glass of
water, returned to Eric. Putting his hand on Eric's forehead he said,--

"You had better take something." He then shook into it another powder,
so that it effervesced, and Eric had to drink the hissing draught,
without another word. The Major made the sage