He lay down without hesitating. The ground was already cool, but his clothes were thick and prevented the cold from penetrating. He made a sort of pillow for his head, and lay with his face turned towards the evening sky. Pale stars gradually appeared on it, and smiled down at him.
He had thought he would fall asleep at once, he felt tired out, but he lay a long time with open eyes. An inexplicable sensation kept him awake: this was too beautiful, too beautiful, it was like a splendid dream. Golden eyes protected him, a velvety mantle enveloped him, a mother rocked him gently.
Longing, defiance, pain, fury, everything that hurt had disappeared. Only happiness remained in this infinite peace.
CHAPTER XII
Frida Lãmke had now been confirmed. She wore a dress that almost touched the ground, and when she saw Wolfgang Schlieben for the first time after a long interval, her greeting was no longer the familiar nod of childhood. But she stopped when she came up to her former play-fellow.
"Hallo, Wolfgang," she said, laughing, and at the same time a little condescendingly--she felt so infinitely superior to him--"well, how are you getting along?"
"All right." He put on a bold air which did not exactly suit the look in his eyes.
She examined him; what a fine fellow Wolfgang had grown. But he held himself so badly, he bent forward so. "Hold yourself up, for goodness' sake," she exhorted, and she straightened her own rush-like figure. "Why do you make such a round back? And you blink your eyes as if you were short-sighted. Hm, you should be with my employer--oh my, she would make you sit up." She chuckled to herself, her whole slender figure shook with a secret inclination to laugh.
"You're so happy," he said slowly.
"Well, why shouldn't I be? Do you think such an old dragon can spoil my good humour? Come, that would be stupid. When she scolds I lower my head, I don't say a word, but I laugh to myself. Ha ha!" Her clear voice sounded very gay.