He was silent, exhausted by this passionate outburst; and only a slight whimper was audible from the corner. His sympathetic comrade had in the meantime withdrawn to his chest. After a little, he said: "How beautifully you express it all, Herr Müller! Just so it goes with my Rieka. In my lifetime I laughed when I heard them talk of everlasting love. But there is something in it, after all. Now, if your Gundelchen and my Rieka should come to us up yonder, perhaps we might continue our courting. Perhaps, upon the last day--well, we must wait. In the meantime, good-night! pleasant dreams!"
From the carriage in the corner came no answer--only a soft, ghost-like snore. Grief seemed at last to have left the poor sinners to their rest.
But the sleep of the two much-enduring ghosts was to be broken in upon in a strange way that night.
In a little cafe by the market place two good friends and school-fellows were celebrating their Wiedersehen with several bottles of Rhine wine. The one, a dignified young man of four-and-twenty, had just returned from a neighboring university, with the degree of Doctor of Medicine. Before accepting the proffered position of assistant in the office of a distinguished physician, he contemplated a year of travel. Following the promptings of his heart, he visited first his native town; though all ties of kindred there had been broken by the death of his parents.
A youthful attachment, formed in his gymnasium days and continued through his student years, despite many breaks and reconciliations, was rumored to be on the point of becoming an engagement. But as yet no word had been spoken; and, indeed,
even an exchange of letters had been interdicted by the stern father. The young man had thought of her less than usual this past year, but had excused himself on the ground of absorbing study. Of his old companions, only one, a civil engineer, had settled in the town. This good comrade insisted upon sharing his bachelor quarters with his friend during his stay. They met at the station, the newly-fledged doctor arriving by an evening train; and midnight found them still exchanging experiences at the café whither they had gone for supper.
"You are awaited with impatience, Philip," said the engineer. "Papa Stadtrath asked me yesterday whether you did not intend to display yourself in the full splendor of your new honors to your native town. I answered evasively. You ought not to accept engagements at once, but devote the first two or three days to rest. For, listen! You are looking pale and nervous; the fatigues of your examination show plainly upon your face."
That he had judged correctly of his friend's condition became evident as soon as they left the café. They had drank but lightly; yet, directly the young doctor found himself in the open air, his head swam, he grew unsteady on his feet and began to talk so boisterously, swinging his walking-stick against the windows as they went along, that his friend, fearing that Philip might meet some acquaintance and introduce himself anew in this disgraceful fashion, took a roundabout way home, through Ghost Lane, where they were sure of being unobserved. Locking his arm in that of his friend, he piloted him along, keeping in the shadow of the aristocratic houses, past the "Good Shepherd," "Noah's Dove," and the "Rose of Sharon," in which no sound was heard and from whose grated windows no light shone forth.