"I thought there was but one way?"
"Oh no! we might go the way by the ramparts. It is nearer and more pleasant walking there than on the rough pavement."
"As you like it!"
"Will you take my arm now?"
It was the first time Oswald had had an opportunity to take Helen's arm. He took pains not to shorten the pleasure of walking arm in arm with the girl he loved through the dark night. The way he had proposed was not only much longer, but also much darker. It led between the walls of the city and the ramparts of the fortress--a pleasant walk in summer and by day, but very unattractive on a dark autumn evening.
"It is darker than I thought," said Oswald, when they had left the damp gate in the city wall, where the last lamp was burning, and had reached the ramparts; "had we better turn back?"
"Not on my account; I like it quite well so."
"At least, please wrap yourself up well in your cloak; the wind is blowing very keen from the sea, and the air is damp and cold."
They went on for a few moments in silence. The dry leaves of the trees, with which the walk was covered, rustled under their feet; plaintive sounds were heard in the air; it sounded like the groaning and sighing of a shivering patient.
"How must it look now in the Grenwitz park?" asked Oswald.