del's native town,
where he had employed a part of my once unhallowed gold in founding a
hospital in my name, under his superintendence, and that its
unfortunate inmates daily pronounced blessings on me. Minna had become
a widow: an unhappy law-suit had deprived Rascal of his life, and Minna
of the greater part of her property. Her parents were no more; and here
she dwelt in widowed piety, wholly devoting herself to works of mercy.

One day, as she stood by the side of Number Twelve's bed with Bendel,
he said to her, "Noble lady, why expose yourself so frequently to this
unhealthy atmosphere? Has fate dealt so harshly with you as to render
you desirous of death?"

"By no means, Mr. Bendel," she replied; "since I have awoke from my
long dream, all has gone well with me. I now neither wish for death nor
fear it, and think on the future and on the past with equal serenity.
Do you not also feel an inward satisfaction in thus paying a pious
tribute of gratitude and love to your old master and friend?"

"Thanks be to God, I do, noble lady," said he. "Ah, how wonderfully has
everything fallen out! How thoughtlessly have we sipped joys and
sorrows from the full cup now drained to the last drop; and we might
fancy the past a mere prelude to the real scene for which we now wait
armed by experience. How different has been the reality! Yet let us not
regret the past, but rather rejoice that we have not lived in vain. As
respects our old friend also, I have a firm hope that it is now better
with him than formerly."

"I trust so too," answered Minna; and so saying, she passed by me, and
they departed.

This conversation made a deep impression on me; and I hesitated whether
I should reveal myself, or depart unknown. At last I decided; and,
asking for pen and paper, wrote as follows:--

"Matters are indeed better with your old friend than formerly. He has
repented; and his repentance has led to forgiveness."

I now attempted to rise, for I felt myself stronger. The keys of a
little chest near my bed were given me; and in it I found all my
effects. I put on my clothes--fastened my botanical case round me,
wherein, with delight, I found my northern lichens all safe--put on my
boots--and leaving my note on the table, left the gates, and was
speedily far advanced on the road to Thebes.

Passing along the Syrian coast, which was the same road I had taken on
last leaving home, I beheld poor Figaro, my spaniel, running to meet
me. T