The full moon shone; the wild spiraea sent forth its odor from the road side; steam ascended from the moor-lands; and the white mist floated over the meadows like the daughters of the elfin king.
Louise sat silent and embarrassed; trouble weighed down her heart. Otto was also silent.
The Kammerjunker drove in first, cracked his whip, and struck up a wild halloo.
Wilhelm began to sing, “Charming the summer night,” and the Kammerjunker joined in with him.
“Sing with us man,” cried Wilhelm to the silent Otto, and quickly the two companies were one singing caravan.
It was late when they reached the hall.
CHAPTER XLI
“Destiny often pulls off leaves, as we treat the vine, that
its fruits may be earlier brought to maturity.”—JEAN PAUL.
It was not until toward morning that Otto fell into sleep. Wilhelm and he were allowed to take their own time in rising, and thus it was late in the day before these two gentlemen made their appearance at the breakfast-table; the Kammerjunker was already come over to the hall, and now was more adorned than common.