The silent wanderer above had expected to behold a scene very unlike an
interview between two men. The latter required neither her purest,
fullest light, nor the shadow of a blossoming linden.
Now Luna saw the young Nuremberg merchant gaze after the Swiss with an
expression of such deep anxiety and pain upon his manly features that she
felt the utmost pity for him. He did not look upward as usual to the
window of his beautiful Els, but either fixed his eyes upon the spot
where his new acquaintance was conversing with another person, or bent
them anxiously upon the ground.
As Wolff thought of Heinz Schorlin, it seemed as if Fate had thrown him
into the way of the Swiss that he might feel with twofold anguish the
thorns besetting his own life path. The young knight was proffered the
rose without the thorn. What cares had he? The present threw into his
lap its fairest blessings, and when he looked into the future he beheld
only the cheering buds of hope.
Yet this favourite of fortune had expressed a desire to change places
with him. The thought that many others, too, would be glad to step into
his shoes tortured Wolff's honest heart as though he himself were to
blame for the delusion of these short-sighted folk.
Apart from his strength and health, his well-formed body, his noble
birth, his faith in the love of his betrothed bride--at this hour he
forgot how much these things were--he found nothing in his lot which
seemed worth desiring.
He might not even rejoice in his stainless honesty with the same perfect
confidence as in his betrothal.
Yes, he had cared for noble old Berthold Vorchtel's daughter as if she
were his sister. He had even found pleasure in the thought that Ursula
was destined to become his wife, yet no word either of love or allusion
to future marriage had been exchanged between them. He had felt free,
and had a right to consider himself so, when love for Els Ortlieb
overwhelmed him so swiftly and powerfully.
Yet Ursula and her oldest brother treated him as if he had been guilty of
base disloyalty. His pure conscience, however, enabled him to endure
this more easily than the other burden, of which he became aware on the
long-anticipated day when his father made him a partner in the old firm
and gave him an insight into the condition of the property and the course
of the business.
Then he had learned the heavy losses which had been sustained recently,
and the sad disparity existing between the great display by which his
father and mother, as well as his grandmother, the countess, maintained
the appearance of their former princely wealth, and the balances of the
last few years.
When he had just boasted to the reckless young knight that he had given
up gaming, he told but half the truth, for though since his period of
study in Venice, and later in Milan, he had not touched dice, he had been
forced to consent to a series of enterprises undertaken by his father,
whose stakes were far different from the gambling of the knights and
nobles at the Green Shield or in the camp.
Yet he intended to bind the fate of the woman he loved to his own, for
Els, spite of the opposition of his family, would have been already
indissolubly united to him, had not one failure after another destroyed
his courage to take her hand. Finally, he deemed it advisable to await
the result of the last great enterprise, now on the eve of decision. It
might compensate for many of the losses of recent years. Should it be
favourable, the heaviest burden would be lifted from his soul; in the
opposite case the old house would be shaken to its foundations. Yet
even its fall would have been easier for him to endure than this cruel
uncertainty, to which was added the torturing anxiety of bearing the
responsibility of things for which he was not to blame, and of which,
moreover, he was even denied a clear view. Yet he felt absolutely
certain that his father was concealing many things, perhaps the worst,
and often felt as if he were walking in the darkness over a mouldering
bridge. Ah, if it could only be propped up, and then rebuilt! But if it
must give way, he hoped the catastrophe would come soon. He knew that he
possessed the strength to build a new home for Els and himself. Even
were it small and modest, it should be erected on a firm foundation and
afford a safe abode for its inmates.
What did the young, joyous-hearted fellow who was wooing Eva know of such
cares? Fate had placed him on the sunny side of life, where everything
flourished, and set him, Wolff, in the shade, where grass and flowers
died.
There is a magic in fame which the young soul cannot easily escape, and
the name of Heinz Schorlin was indeed honoured and on every lip. The
imagination associated with it the cheerful nature which, like a loyal
comrade, goes hand in hand with success, deserved and undeserved good
fortune, woman's favour, doughty deeds, the highest and strongest traits
of character.
An atmosphere like sunshine, which melts all opposition, emanated from
Heinz. Wolff had experienced it himself. He had seriously intended to
make the insolent intruder feel his strong arm, but since he had learned
the identity of the Swiss his acts and nature appeared in a new light.
His insolence had gained the aspect of self-confidence which did not lack
justification, and when a valiant knight talked to him so frankly, like a
younger brother to an older and wiser one, it seemed to the lonely man
who, of late, completely absorbed in the course of business, had held
aloof from the sports, banquets, and diversions of the companions of his
own age, that he had experienced something unusually pleasant. How
tender and affectionate it sounded when Heinz alluded to the "little
mother" at home! He, Wolff, on the contrary, could think only with a
shade of bitterness of the weak woman to whom he owed his existence, and
whom filial duty and earnest resolution alike commanded him to love, yet
who made it so difficult for him to regard her with anything save anxiety
or secret disapproval.
Perhaps the greatest advantage which the Swiss possessed over him was his
manner of speaking of his family. How could it ever have entered Wolff
Eysvogel's mind to call the tall, stiff woman, who was the feeble echo of
her extravagant, arrogant mother, and who rustled towards him, even in
the early morning, adorned with feathers and robed in rich brocade, his
"dear little mother"?
Whoever spoke in the warm, loving tones that fell from the lips of Sir
Heinz when he mentioned his relatives at home certainly could have no
evil nature. No one need fear, though his usual mode of speech was so
wanton, that he would trifle with a pure, innocent creature like Eva.
How Heinz had succeeded in winning so speedily the devout child, who was
so averse to the idle coquetries of the companions of her own age, seemed
incomprehensible, but he had no time to investigate now.
He must go, for he had long been burning with impatience to depart. The
declaration of peace had taken effect only a few hours before, and the
long waggon trains from Italy, of which he had told Els yesterday, were
still delayed. The freight of spices and Levantine goods, Milan velvets,
silks, and fine Florentine cloths, which they were bringing from the city
of St. Mark, represented a large fortune. If it arrived in time, the
profits would cover a great portion of the losses of the past two years,
and the house would again be secure. If the worst should befall, how
would his family submit to deprivation, perhaps even to penury? He had
less fear of his grandmother's outbursts of wrath, but what would become
of his feeble mother, who was as dependent as a child on her own mother?
Yet he loved her; he felt deeply troubled by the thought of the severe
humiliation which menaced her. His sister Isabella, too, was dear to
him, in spite of her husband, the reckless Sir Seitz Siebenburg, in whose
hands the gold paid from the coffers of the firm melted away, yet who was
burdened with a mountain of debts.
Wolff had left orders at home to have his horse saddled. He had intended
only to wave a greeting to his Els and then ride to Neumarkt, or, if
necessary, as far as Ingolstadt, to meet the wains.
A word of farewell to the new acquaintance, who was probably destined to
be his brother-in, law, and then--But just at that moment Heinz
approached, and in reply to Wolff's low question "And your lady's
colour?" he answered joyously, pointing to the breast of his doublet:
"I am carrying the messenger which promises to inform me, here on my
heart. In the darkness it was silent; but the bright moonlight yonder
will loose its tongue, unless the characters here are too unlike those of
the prayer-book."
Drawing out Eva's little roll as he spoke, he approached a brightly
lighted spot, pointed to the ribbon which fastened it, and exclaimed:
"Doubtless she used her own colour to tie it. Blue, the pure, exquisite
blue of her eyes! I thought so Forget-me-not blue! The most beautiful
of colours. You must pardon my impatience!"
He was about to begin to read the lines; but Wolff stopped him by
pointing to the Ortlieb residence and to two drunken soldiers who came
out of the tavern "For Thirsty Troopers," and walked, singing and
staggering, up the opposite side of the street. Then, extending his hand
to Heinz in farewell, he asked in a low tone, pointing to Biberli's
figure just emerging from the shade, who was the messenger of love who
served him so admirably.
"My shadow," replied the knight. "I loosed him from my heels and bade
him stand there. But no offence, Herr Wolff Eysvogel; you'll make the
queer fellow's acquaintance if, like myself, it would be agreeable to you
to meet often, not only on iron chains, but on friendly terms with each
other."
"Nothing would please me more," replied the other. "But how in the world
could it happen that this well-guarded fortress surrendered to you after
so short a resistance?"
"Heinz Schorlin rides swiftly," he interrupted; but Wolff exclaimed:
"A swift ride awaits me, too, though of a different kind. When I return,
I shall expect you to tell me how you won our 'little saint,' my sister-
in-law Eva. The two beautiful Ortlieb 'Es' are one in the eyes of the
townsfolk, so we also will be often named in the same breath, and shall
do well to feel brotherly regard for each other. There shall be no fault
on my part. Farewell, till we meet again, an' it please God in and not
outside of our ladies' dwelling."
While speaking he clasped the knight's hand with so firm a grasp that it
seemed as if he wished to force him to feel its pressure a long time, and
hastened through the Frauenthor.
Heinz Schorlin gazed thoughtfully after him a short time, then beckoned
to Biberli and, though the interval required for him to reach his
master's side was very brief, it was sufficient for the bold young lover,
tortured by his ardent longing, to form another idea.
"Look yonder, Biberli!" he exclaimed. "The holy-water basin on the door-
post, the escutcheon on the lintel above, the helmet, which would
probably bear my weight. From there I can reach the window-sill with my
hand, and once I have grasped it, I need only make one bold spring and,
hurrah! I'm on it."
"May our patron saint have mercy on us!" cried the servant in horror.
"You can get there as easily as you can spring on your two feet over two
horses; but the coming down would certainly be a long distance lower than
you would fancy--into the 'Hole,' as they call the prison here, and,
moreover, though probably not until some time later, straight to the
flames of hell; for you would have committed a great sin against a noble
maiden rich in every virtue, who deemed you worthy of her love. And,
besides, there are two Es. They occupy the same room, and the house is
full of men and maid servants."
"Pedagogue!" said the knight, peevishly.
"Ay, that was Biberli's calling once," replied the servant, "and, for the
sake of your lady mother at home, I wish I were one still, and you, Sir
Heinz, would have to obey me like an obedient pupil. You are well aware
that I rarely use her sacred name to influence you, but I do so now; and
if you cherish her in your heart and do not wish to swoop down on the
innocent little dove like a destroying hawk, turn your back upon this
place, where we have already lingered too long."
But this well-meant warning seemed to have had brief influence upon the
person to whom it was addressed. Suddenly, with a joyous: "There she
is!" he snatched his cap from his head and waved a greeting to the
window.
But in a few minutes he replaced it with a petulant gesture of the hand,
saying sullenly: "Vanished! She dared not grant me a greeting, because
she caught sight of you."
"Let us thank and praise a kind Providence for it," said his servitor
with a sigh of relief, "since our Lord and Saviour assumed the form of a
servant, that of a scarecrow, in which he has done admirable service, is
far too noble and distinguished for Biberli."
As he spoke he walked on before the knight, and pointing to the tavern
beside the Frauenthurm whose sign bore the words "For Thirsty Troopers,"
he added: "A green bush at the door. That means, unless the host is a
rogue, a cask fresh broached. I wonder whether my tongue is cleaving to
my palate from dread of your over-hasty courage, or whether it is really
so terribly sultry here!"
"At any rate," Heinz interrupted, "a cup of wine will harm neither of us;
for I myself feel how oppressive the air is. Besides, it is light in the
tavern, and who knows what the little note will tell me."
Meanwhile they passed the end of St. Klarengasse and went up to the green
bush, which projected from the end of a pole far out into the street.
Soldiers in the pay of the city, and men-at-arms in the employ of the
Emperor and the princes who had come to attend the Reichstag, were
sitting over their wine in the tavern. From the ceiling hung two crossed
iron triangles, forming a six-pointed star. The tallow candles burning
low in their sockets, which it contained, and some pitch-pans in the
corners, diffused but a dim light through the long apartment.
Master and man found an empty table apart from the other guests, in a
niche midway down the rear wall.
Without heeding the brawling and swearing, the rude songs and disorderly
shouts, the drumming of clenched fists upon the oak tables, the wild
laughter of drunken soldiers, the giggling and screeching of bar-maids,
and the scolding and imperious commands of the host, they proved that the
green bush had not lied, for the wine really did come from a freshly
opened cask just brought up from the cellar. But as the niche was
illumined only by the tiny oil lamp burning beneath the image of the
Virgin, bedizened with flowers and gold and silver tinsel, fastened
against the wall, Biberli asked the weary bar-maid for a brighter light.
When the girl withdrew he sighed heavily, saying: "O my lord, if you only
knew! Even now, when we are again among men and the wine has refreshed
me, I feel as if rats were gnawing at my soul. Conscience, my lord-
conscience!"
"You, too, are usually quite ready to play the elf in the rose-garden of
love," replied Heinz gaily. "Moreover, I shall soon need a T and an S
embroidered on my own doublet, for----Why don't they bring the light?
Another cup of wine, the note, and then with renewed vigour we'll go back
again."
"For God's sake," interrupted Biberli, "do not speak, do not even think,
of the bold deed you suggested! Doesn't it seem like a miracle that not
one of the many Ortlieb and Montfort servants crossed your path? Even
such a child of good luck as yourself can scarcely expect a second one
the same evening. And if there is not, and you go back under the window,
you will be recognised, perhaps even seized, and then--O my lord,
consider this!--then you will bear throughout your life the reproach of
having brought shame and bitter sorrow upon a maiden whom you yourself
know is lovely, devout, and pure. And I, too, who serve you loyally in
your lady mother's behalf, as well as the poor maid who, to pleasure me,
interceded for you with her mistress, will run the risk of our lives if
you are caught climbing into the window or committing any similar
offence; for in this city they are prompt with the stocks, the stone
collar, the rack, and the tearing of the tongue from the mouth whenever
any one is detected playing the part of go-between in affairs of love."
"Usually, old fellow," replied Heinz in a tone of faint reproach, "we
considered it a matter of course that, though we took the most daring
risks in such things, we were certain not to be caught. Yet, to be
frank, some incomprehensible burden weighs upon my soul. My feelings
are confused and strange. I would rather tear the crown from the head of
yonder image of the Virgin than do aught to this sweet innocence for
which she could not thank me."
Here he paused, for the bar-maid brought a two-branched candelabrum, in
which burned two tallow candles.
Heinz instantly opened the little roll.
How delicate were the characters it contained! His heart's beloved had
committed them to the paper with her own hand, and the knight's blood
surged hotly through his veins as he gazed at them. It seemed as though
he held in his hand a portion of herself and, obeying a hasty impulse, he
kissed the letter.
Then he eagerly began to study the writing; he had never seen anything so
delicate and peculiar in form.
The deciphering of the first lines in which, it is true, she called him a
godly knight, but also informed him that his boldness had angered her,
caused him much difficulty, and Biberli was often obliged to help.
Would she have rebuffed him so ungraciously with her lips as with the
pen? Was it possible that, on account of a request which every lover
ventured to address to his lady, she would withdraw the favour which
rendered him so happy? Oh, yes, for innocence is delicate and sensitive.
She ought to have repelled him thus. He was secretly rejoiced to see the
sweet modesty which had so charmed him again proved. He must know what
the rest of the letter contained, and the ex-schoolmaster was at hand to
give the information at once.
True, the hastily written sentences presented some difficulties even for
Biberli, but after glancing through the whole letter, he exclaimed with a
satisfied smile: "Just as I expected! At the first look one might think
that the devout little lady was wholly unlike the rest of her sex, but on
examining more closely she proves as much like any other beautiful girl
as two peas. With good reason and prudent caution she forbids the
languishing knight to remain beneath her window, yet she will risk a
pleasant little interview in some safe nook. That is wise for so young a
girl, and at the same time natural and womanly. I don't know why you
knit your brows. Since the first Eve came from a crooked rib, all her
daughters prefer devious ways. But first hear what she writes." Then,
without heeding his master's gloomy face, he began to read the note
aloud.
Heinz listened intently, and after he had heard that the lady of his love
did not desire to meet him alone, but only under the protection of a
friend and her saint, when he heard her name her colour, it is true, but
also express the expectation that, as a godly knight, he would fight for
her sake in honour of the gracious Virgin, his face brightened.
During Biberli's scoffing comments he had felt as if a tempest had hurled
her pure image in the dust. But now that he knew what she asked of him,
it returned as a matter of course to its old place and, with a sigh of
relief, he felt that he need not be ashamed of the emotions which this
wonderful young creature had awakened in his soul. She had opened her
pious heart like a trusting sister to an older brother, and what he had
seen there was something unusual--things which had appeared sacred to him
even when a child. Since he took leave of her in the ball-room he had
felt as though Heaven had loaned this, its darling, to earth for but a
brief space, and her brocade robe must conceal angel wings. Should it
surprise him that the pure innocence which filled her whole being was
expressed also in her letter, if she summoned him, not to idle love-
dalliance but to a covenant of souls, a mutual conflict for what was
highest and most sacred? Such a thing was incomprehensible to Biberli;
but notwithstanding her letter--nay, even on its account--he longed still
more ardently to lead her home to his mother and see her receive the
blessing of the woman whom he so deeply honoured.
He had Eva's letter read for the second and the third time. But when
Biberli paused, and in a few brief sentences cast fresh doubts upon the
writer, Heinz angrily stopped him. "The longing of the godly heart of a
pure maiden--mark this well--has naught in common with that diabolical
delight in secret love--dalliance for which others yearn. My wish to
force my way to her was sinful, and it was punished severely enough, for
during your rude scoffs I felt as though you had set fire to the house
over my head. But from this I perceive in what a sacred, inviolable spot
her image had found a place. True, it is denied you to follow the lofty,
heavenward aspiration of a pure soul--"
"O my lord," interrupted the servitor with hands uplifted in defence,
"who besought you not to measure this innocent daughter of a decorous
household, who was scarcely beyond childhood, by the standard you applied
to others? Who entreated you to spare her fair fame? And if you deem
the stuff of which the servant is made too coarse to understand what
moves so pure a soul, you do Biberli injustice, for, by my patron saint,
though duty commanded me to interpose doubts and scruples between you and
a passion from which could scarcely spring aught that would bring joy to
your mother's heart I, too, asked myself the question why, in these days,
a devout maiden should not long to try her skill in conversion upon a
valiant knight who served her. Ever since St. Francis of Assisi appeared
in Italy, barefooted monks and grey-robed nuns, who follow him,
Franciscans and Sisters of St. Clare stream hither as water flows into a
mill-race when the sluice-gates are opened. With what edification we,
too, listened to the old Minorite whom we picked up by the wayside, at
the tavern where we usually found pleasure in nothing but drinking,
gambling, shouting, and singing! Besides, I know from my sweetheart with
what exemplary devotion the lovely Eva follows St. Clare."
"Who is now and will remain my patron saint also, old Biber," interrupted
Heinz with joyful emotion, as he laid his hand gratefully on his
follower's shoulder; then rising and beckoning to the bar-maid, added:
"The stuff of which you are made, old comrade, is inferior to no man's.
Only now and then the pedagogue plays you a trick. Had you uttered your
real opinion in the first place, the wine would have tasted better to us
both. Let Eva try the work of conversion on me! What, save my lady's
love, is more to me than our holy faith? It must indeed be a delight to
take the field for the Church and against her foes!" While speaking, he
paid the reckoning and went out with Biberli.
The moon was now pouring her silver beams, with full radiance, over the
quiet street, the linden in front of the Ortlieb house, and its lofty
gable roof. Only a single room in the spacious mansion was still
lighted, the bow-windowed one occupied by the two sisters.
Heinz, without heeding Biberli's renewed protest, looked upward, silently
imploring Eva's pardon for having misjudged her even a moment. His gaze
rested devoutly on the open window, behind which a curtain was stirring.
Was it the night breeze that almost imperceptibly raised and lowered it,
or was her own dear self concealed behind it?
Just at that moment he suddenly felt his servant's hand on his arm, and
as he followed his horror-stricken gaze, a chill ran through his own
veins. From the heavy door of the house, which stood half open, a white-
robed figure emerged with the solemn, noiseless footfall of a ghost, and
advanced across the courtyard towards him.
Was it a restless spirit risen from its grave at the midnight hour, which
must be close at hand? Through his brain, like a flash of lightning,
darted the thought that Eva had spoken to him of her invalid mother. Had
she died? Was her wandering soul approaching him to drive him from the
threshold of the house which hid her endangered child?
But no!
The figure had stopped before the door and now, raising its head, gazed
with wide eyes upward at the moon, and--he was not mistaken--it was no
spectre of darkness; it was she for whom every pulse of his heart
throbbed--Eva!
No human creature had ever seemed to him so divinely fair as she in her
long white night-robe, over which fell the thick waves of her light hair.
The horror which had seized him yielded to the most ardent yearning.
Pressing his hand upon his throbbing heart, he watched her every
movement. He longed to go forward to meet her, yet a supernatural spell
seemed to paralyse his energy. He would sooner have dared clasp in his
arms the image of a beautiful Madonna than this embodiment of pure,
helpless, gracious innocence.
Now she herself drew nearer, but he felt as if his will was broken, and
with timid awe he drew back one step, and then another, till the chain
stopped him.
Just at that moment she paused, stretched out her white arm with a
beckoning gesture, and again turned towards the house, Heinz following
because he could not help it, her sign drew him after her with magnetic
power.
Now Eva entered the dimly lighted corridor, and again her uplifted hand
seemed to invite him to follow. Then--the impetuous throbbing of his
heart almost stifled him--she set her little white foot on the first step
of the stairs and led the way up to the first landing, where she paused,
lifting her face to the open window, through which the moonbeams streamed
into the hall, flooding her head, her figure, and every surrounding
object with their soft light.
Heinz followed step by step. It seemed as if the wild surges of a sea
were roaring in his ears, and glittering sparks were dancing before his
yearning, watchful eyes.
How he loved her! How intense was the longing which drew him after her!
And yet another emotion stirred in his heart with still greater power-
grief, sincere grief, which pierced his in, most soul, that she could
have beckoned to him, permitted him to follow her, granted him what he
would never have ventured to ask. Nay, when he set his foot on the first
step, it seemed as if the temple which contained his holiest treasure
fell crashing around him, and an inner voice cried loudly: "Away, away
from here! Would you exchange the purest and loftiest things for what
tomorrow will fill you with grief and loathing?" it continued to
admonish. "You will relinquish what is dearest and most sacred to secure
what is ready to rush into your arms on all the high-roads.
"Hence, hence, you poor, deluded mortal, ere it is too late!"
But even had he known it was the fair fiend Venus herself moving before
him under the guise of Eva, the spell of her unutterable beauty would
have constrained him to follow her, though the goal were the Horselberg,
death, and hell.
On the second landing she again stood still and, leaning against a
pillar, raised her arms and extended them towards the moon, in whose
silvery light they gleamed like marble. Heinz saw her lips move, heard
his own name fall from them, and all self-control vanished.
"Eva!" he cried with passionate fervor, holding out his arms to clasp
her; but, ere he even touched her, a shriek of despairing anguish echoed
loudly back from the walls.
The sound of her own name had broken the threads with which the
mysterious power of the moonlight had drawn her from her couch, down
through the house, out of doors, and again back to the stairs.
Sleep vanished with the dream which she had shared with him and,
shuddering, she perceived where she was, saw the knight before her,
became conscious that she had left her chamber in her night-robe, with
disordered hair and bare feet; and, frantic with horror at the thought of
the resistless might with which a mysterious force constrained her to
obey it against her own will, deeply wounded by the painful feeling that
she had been led so far across the bounds of maidenly modesty, hurt and
angered by the boldness of the man before her, who had dared to follow
her into her parents' house, she again raised her voice, this time to
call her from whom she was accustomed to seek and find help in every
situation in life.
"Els! Els!" rang up the stairs; and the next moment Els, who had already
heard Eva's first scream, sprang down the few steps to her sister's side.
One glance at the trembling girl in her nightrobe, and at the moonlight
which still bathed her in its rays, told Els what had drawn Eva to the
stairs.
The knight must have slipped into the house and found her there. She
knew him and, before Heinz had time to collect his thoughts, she said
soothingly to her sister, who threw her arms around her as though seeking
protection, "Go up to your room, child!--Help her, Katterle. I'll come
directly."
While Eva, leaning on the maid's arm, mounted the stairs with trembling
knees, Els turned to the Swiss and said in a grave, resolute tone: "If
you are worthy of your escutcheon, Sir Knight, you will not now fly like
a coward from this house across whose threshold you stole with shameful
insolence, but await me here until I return. You shall not be detained
long. But, to guard yourself and another from misinterpretation, you
must hear me."
Heinz nodded assent in silence, as if still under the spell of what he
had recently experienced. But, ere he reached the entry below, Martsche,
the old housekeeper, and Endres, the aged head packer, came towards him,
just as they had risen from their beds, the former with a petticoat flung
round her shoulders, the latter wrapped in a horse-blanket.
Eva's shriek had waked both, but Els enjoined silence on everyone and,
after telling them to go back to bed, said briefly that Eva in her
somnambulism had this time gone out into the street and been brought back
by the knight. Finally, she again said to Heinz, "Presently!" and then
went to her sister.