y saying, quite coolly, "A
servant may be a very honourable man, and unwilling to serve a
shadowless master--I request my dismissal."

I felt that I must adopt a softer tone, and replied, "But, Rascal, my
good fellow, who can have put such strange ideas into your head? How
can you imagine--"

He again interrupted me in the same tone--"People say you have no
shadow. In short, let me see your shadow, or give me my dismissal."

Bendel, pale and trembling, but more collected than myself, made a sign
to me. I had recourse to the all-powerful influence of gold. But even
gold had lost its power--Rascal threw it at my feet: "From a shadowless
man," he said, "I will take nothing."

Turning his back upon me, and putting on his hat, he then slowly left
the room, whistling a tune. I stood, with Bendel, as if petrified,
gazing after him.

With a deep sigh and a heavy heart, I now prepared to keep my
engagement, and to appear in the forester's garden, like a criminal
before his judge. I entered by the shady arbour, which had received the
name of Count Peter's arbour, where we had appointed to meet. The
mother advanced with a cheerful air; Minna sat fair and beautiful as
the early snow of autumn reposing on the departing flowers, soon to be
dissolved and lost in the cold stream.

The ranger, with a written paper in his hand, was walking up and down
in an agitated manner, and struggling to suppress his feelings--his
usually unmoved countenance being one moment flushed, and the next
perfectly pale. He came forward as I entered, and, in a faltering
voice, requested a private conversation with me. The path by which he
requested me to follow him led to an open spot in the garden, where the
sun was shining. I sat down. A long silence ensued, which even the good
woman herself did not venture to break. The ranger, in an agitated
manner, paced up and down with unequal steps. At last he stood still;
and glancing over the paper he held in his hand, he said, addressing me
with a penetrating look, "Count Peter, do you know one Peter
Schlemihl?" I was silent.

"A man," he continued, "of excellent character and extraordinary
endowments."

He paused for an answer. "And supposing I myself were that very man?"

"You!" he exclaimed, passionately; "he has lost his shadow!"

"Oh, my suspicion is true!" cried Minna; "I have long known it--he has
no shadow!" And she threw herself into her mother's arms, who,
convulsively clasping her to her bos