When the sun went down and the shadows became darker, images arose in his imagination more clear and defined with the encreasing obscurity. When night came on, he also distinguished the other forms in the group, his father, Franz, the paternal home and the little slumbering Eveline appeared to him, dark figures were lurking about, threatening destruction.
An hour before midnight, he was standing on the top of a mountain, beneath him lay a dark valley, a large house, lights gleamed from only a few of the windows. What was his surprise on recovering his recollection. It was his home, and he arrived at it by a road that he had never before trodden. Here he had lately waved a last farewell to his father. He descended. He heard whisperings in the vineyard, he perceived figures moving along creeping. Familiar as he was with the place, he easily gained the back of a rocky wall of a grotto in which he heard voices speaking. "It must soon take place," said a hoarse voice, "and
