It was no other than Knopf. He was going along quietly in the dark, quizzing himself sorely why it was he did not understand the world; it really ought to explain itself to him, for he held the world so dear. Why is it so reserved and full of secresy? What would now become of Roland? And amongst the rest entered a lighter and more trifling sorrow, that the Major had utterly forgotten him. Knopf did not think ill of him for it, not in the least; for Heaven knows that in such confusion one had his head full enough; who can think of everything? He confessed modestly to himself that he, of course, could not have been of any assistance whatever, he was so awkward; there was Herr Dournay, and Pranken—he knew nothing at all about Prince Valerian. Thus he was trudging along in the dark, and questioning himself in every way, and then looking up at the stars.
"Herr Knopf! Herr Knopf! Herr Magister!" was shouted out by different voices. Knopf stopped. Roland sprang quickly off his horse, embraced the old teacher, and exclaimed:—
"Ah, forgive me for what I have done to you; I've been wanting to say it to you—long ago-—-" At the words, "long ago," Roland's voice trembled violently.
"You have already, and it has been forgiven for a long time; but how does it happen that you are here?"
Everything was soon explained. Knopf rested his hand on Roland's shoulder all the while, as if he could lend him some of his strength; and he pressed back the spectacles very close to his eyes, when he heard and saw how the youth was beginning to bear up manfully under the terrible event. He pressed Eric's hand as if he would say:—
You can be happy, you have imparted to the boy genuine strength.
When at last they were bidding good-bye, Roland begged Knopf to ride home on the pony. Knopf assured him repeatedly that it was a pleasure to him to roam about in the dark on foot; Roland asserted that Puck was a right gentle beast, so tractable, so easy and intelligent; and he said to the little horse:—
"I want you to be good now, and make up for all the trouble I gave to my old teacher; do be well-behaved."
Knopf continued to object, and at last he brought out, in a plaintive tone, that he had no straps to his pants. Everybody laughed, and Roland in the midst of his sorrow laughed too. Knopf was extremely happy to find that Roland could laugh, and now he yielded. Roland helped him mount, stroking the arm of his former teacher, and stroking the horse; Knopf and the Prince rode off together. But Eric did not mount again; leading his horse by the bridle, he went hand in hand with Roland to the Villa.
And now, in the still night, Eric was incessantly occupied in thinking of what the Doctor had said; how great was the discord in the whole modern world, so that the life of states, and even many of the occupations of private life, were not regulated by ethical principles. Not in the way prescribed by the Doctor,—besides, it had left no impression whatever on Roland,—would the youth gain rest and strength, nor in any way but in the acknowledgment that each one must strive earnestly to conform to the moral law, and make it an integral part of his actual life.