dow; it was a moonlight
night. From the near wood resounded laughter and song. They came from
the young men and girls, who, on their wandering, gave themselves up
to merriment. Otto stood silent and full of thought in the open window.
Perhaps it was the moon which lent her paleness to his countenance.
On what did he reflect? Upon his departure, perhaps? Only one more day
would he remain here, where he felt himself so much at home; but then
the journey was toward his own house, to his grandfather, to Rosalie,
and the old preacher, who all thought so much of him. Otto stood
listening and silent. The wind bore the song more distinctly over from
the wood.

"That is their joy, their happiness!" said he. "It might have been my
joy also, my happiness!" lay in the sigh which he heaved. His lips did
not move, his thoughts alone spoke their silent language. "I might have
stood on a level with these; my soul might have been chained to the
dust, and yet it would have been the same which I now possess, with
which I long to compass all worlds! the same, endowed with this
sentiment of pride, which drives me on to active exertion. My fate
wavered whether I should become one such as these or whether I should
rise into that circle which the world calls the higher. The mist-form
did not sink down into the mire, but rose above into the high refreshing
air. And am I become happy through this?" His eye stared upon the bright
disk of the moon. Two large tears rolled over his pale cheeks. "Infinite
Omnipotence! I acknowledge Thy existence! Thou dost direct all; upon
Thee will I depend!"

A melancholy smile passed over his lips; he stepped back into the
chamber, folded his hands, prayed, and felt rest and peace.

CHAPTER XII

"The travellers roll through the world of men,
Like rose leaves in a stream.
The past will ne'er come back again,
But fade into a dream."--B. S. INGEMANN.

The following day, the last before Otto's departure, whilst he and
Wilhelm were walking in the garden, Sophie approached them with a
garland made of oak-leaves: this was intended for Otto; they were now
really to lose him.

"Sophie will scarcely be up so early to-morrow morning," said Louise;
"she is, therefore, obliged to present her garland to-day. I am never
missing at the breakfast-table, as you well know; and I shall then bring
my bouquet."

"I shall preserve both until we meet again," returned Otto; "they are
vignettes to my beau