“And then?”
“Then?—I don’t know—I would write an account of my travels.”
“And then?”
“I would marry, and have some children. I am very fond of children.”
“And would you leave Sweden?”
“Who knows? I have no ties to bind me anywhere. The deuce take me if—don’t think I am exaggerating, for I am not intoxicated—but, M. Goefle, I feel a very warm affection for you, and I’ll be hanged if the pleasure of living near you would not have a great deal to do with forming my resolution! But what is the use of talking about it? I have no taste for building castles in Spain, and have never anticipated being rich. In two days I shall go, I don’t know whither, and perhaps shall never return.”
When the two friends reached the bear-room, they had so entirely forgotten about its being haunted, that they went to bed and to sleep, without even remembering to renew their consultation concerning the apparition of the previous night.
They tried, for a while, to keep on talking after they had gone to bed; but, though M. Goefle was still somewhat excited, and though Christian answered his remarks with all the good-nature in the world, sleep very soon descended upon the young man like an avalanche of feathers; and the doctor, after scolding a little at Nils, who was snoring loud enough to break the windows, finally went to sleep himself.
It was at just about this time that the Baron de Waldemora awoke, at the new chateau. Johan, on entering the room according to order, found him sitting on the bed, half dressed.
“It is three o’clock, your lordship,” said the major-domo; “have you had any sleep?”