“ Now hurry to the inn and get into a warm bed.”
“At Dillstedt?”
“ Certainly; there is none nearer.”
“And Germelshausen ? ”
“ Please do me the favor to not mention the name of that place
again. Det the dead rest, especially such as never have any
peace. ’ ’
“ But the village stood here yesterday,” cried Arnold; “ I was
in it—l ate, drank, and even danced there.”
The hunter viewed him from head to fpot and then said smil
ing:
“ But it had a different name, had it not ? Very likely it was
at Dillstedt. They had k dance there at the inn last night, and
they had very strong liquor which must have affected you.
Arnold opened his portfolio, and taking out the sketch of the
village which he had made while in the church-yard, asked:
“ Do you recognize that village? ”
“No,” answered the hunter shaking his head, “ there is not
such a flat tower in this neighborhood. ’ ’
“That is Germelshausen! ” cried Arnold, “and do the girls in
this vicinity dress like this one does ? ”
“ No, but hasn’t she a beautiful face ? ”
Arnold did not answer him but replaced the picture in his port
folio, almost choked with emotion.
“You cannot miss the way to Dillstedt,’’ said the hunter
kindly, who imagined that the stranger was not entirely sane. ‘' I
will accompany you part of the distance if you wish me to.”
“Thank you, but I will be able to find it myself. And
Germelshausen will not come up again for a century? ”
“ That is what people say; I do not know whether it is true or
“ Good bye,” said he, shaking the old hunter by the hand.
“ Good bye,” answered he, “ where are you going- now?”
“To Dillstedt.”
“That is right; the road lies just beyond that slope.”
Arnold turned sadly, and slowly wended his way towards
Dillstedt. When he arrived at the top of the slope, he took a
farewell glance over the county which caused him sp much joy
yesterday but which now caused him so much pain.
“Farewell, dear Gertrude,” he murmured softly, and as he
continued his journey, large tears streamed down his pale cheeks.