f in a dream. There were fields and meadows,
then a village, a window-shelf covered with carnations and hanging
vines. You've such at home, too, thought she, and in a moment they had
vanished from sight. Then they passed the churchyard, its black crosses
half buried in the earth and yet standing out boldly against the clear
sky. In the village there was music and dancing, and merry youths and
maidens, their faces flushed by their sport, hurried to the windows.
Then they passed more fields and meadows and houses, and saw groups
sitting together and talking. And then the postilion blew a loud blast.
A child was running in the middle of the road. With a shriek of horror,
the mother rescued it and hastened away. The carriage did not stop.
Walpurga looked back, feeling sure that they must now be thanking God
for the child's escape. And still they went on. Then they passed a cow
grazing by the wayside, a boy near by watching her. In the level
country where the climate is so much milder, the cherry-trees were
already bare of fruit. And then they came to great fields, with their
vast sea of waving grain--there were none such in the Highlands.... How
happy these people must be who live down here, where there is something
more than water, meadow and forest. In yonder fallow field, there lies
a plow as if sleeping over Sunday. It grows dark, lights begin to
twinkle; there are men and women, too. They are in their homes, but I'm
being taken away from mine.... At the next post station, both the
doctor and Walpurga remained in the carriage. The horses were quickly
changed, the old ones going, with heavy steps, into the stable; a new
postilion mounted the box, and they were off again. Walpurga saw
nothing more; her eyes were closed, and it seemed as if it were a
dream, when the carriage stopped again for a fresh relay of horses, and
she heard Baum ordering the postilion not to blow his horn lest he
might awaken those inside.

"I'm not asleep," said the doctor.

"Nor am I! Just blow your horn, postilion," said Walpurga.

The postilion blew a loud blast, and they were off again. The stars
were glittering overhead. They passed through more villages; windows
were quickly raised, but they dashed by so rapidly that they were out
of sight before the surprised villagers had time to collect their
senses. Objects at the wayside were strangely illumined by the
ever-moving glimmer of the two carriage-lamps, and at last, in the
distance, they d