Not far from the house of the smith, a sawmill is heard through the stillness of the night, busily revolving from a current of air. The stars are shining brightly over the dark line of the forest, and on the spot where the moon has gone down behind the hills, a pale blue halo is visible, and the fleecy clouds in the sky are gently illuminated.
Lenz supported his burning forehead on his hands: his pulses were beating—the world seems going round with him. No doubt the new wine is the cause of these sensations. "I ought not to have drunk wine at night. What a clever, good girl Annele is! Don't be a fool—What is she to you?—'Good night!—Sleep sound.'" He repeated her words gently, and indeed he did sleep soundly all night.
CHAPTER IX.
A PARLEY WITH FRIENDS.
The journeymen and the apprentice, whom Lenz had sent home to their parents during his domestic troubles, were already busy in the workshop when Lenz awoke in the morning. It had never before happened that they were before their master at their work. Indeed, when Lenz opened the window the sun was already high in the heavens, and five or six clocks that were in the room, struck seven at the same moment. It seemed to Lenz as if his wish had been fulfilled, that he might sleep for a whole week. Between yesterday and today, weeks indeed seemed to have passed. The time appeared so long to Lenz, because such unwonted feelings had entered his heart.
Franzl brought him his breakfast, sat down uninvited beside him, and asked, "What shall I dress for your dinner today?"
"For me? Nothing. I don't intend to dine at home. Get what you like for yourself. Only think, Franzl, that kind Pilgrim——"
"Yes; he was here yesterday," interrupted Franzl, "and waited for you a long time."
"Did he? and I was at his house. What do you think, Franzl? the kindhearted fellow painted a portrait of my mother yesterday, secretly; you will be surprised to see how like life she looks: one might almost fancy she must begin to speak."