“I agree with you, honest Niklausse,” returned the burgomaster, “I agree with you. You seize sentiment better when you get clear of nature. You breathe it in every sense! It is at such heights that philosophers should be formed, and that sages should live, above the miseries of this world!” “Shall we go around the platform?” asked the counsellor. “Let us go around the platform,” replied the burgomaster. And the two friends, arm in arm, and putting, as formerly, long pauses between their questions and answers, examined every point of the horizon. [Illustration: The two friends, arm in arm] “It is at least seventeen years since I have ascended the belfry tower,” said Van Tricasse. “I do not think I ever came up before,” replied Niklausse; “and I regret it, for the view from this height is sublime! Do you see, my friend, the pretty stream of the Vaar, as it winds among the trees?” “And, beyond, the heights of Saint Hermandad! How gracefully they shut in the horizon! Observe that border of green trees, which Nature has so picturesquely arranged! Ah, Nature, Nature, Niklausse! Could the hand of man ever hope to rival her?” “It is enchanting, my excellent friend,” replied the counsellor. “See the flocks and herds lying in the verdant pastures,—the oxen, the cows, the sheep!” “And the labourers going to the fields! You would say they were Arcadian shepherds; they only want a bagpipe!” “And over all this fertile country the beautiful blue sky, which no vapour dims! Ah, Niklausse, one might become a poet here! I do not understand why Saint Simeon Stylites was not one of the greatest poets of the world.” “It was because, perhaps, his column was not high enough,” replied the counsellor, with a gentle smile. At this moment the chimes of Quiquendone rang out. The clear bells played one of their most melodious airs. The two friends listened in ecstasy. Then in his calm voice, Van Tricasse said,— “But what, friend Niklausse, did we come to the top of this tower to do?” “In fact,” replied the counsellor, “we have permitted ourselves to be carried away by our reveries—” “What did we come here to do?” repeated the burgomaster. “We came,” said Niklausse, “to breathe this pure air, which human weaknesses have not corrupted.” “Well, shall we descend, friend Niklausse?” “Let us descend, friend Van Tricasse.” They gave a parting glance at the splendid panorama which was spread before their eyes; then the burgomaster passed down first, and began to descend with a slow and measured pace. The counsellor followed a few steps behind. They reached the landing-stage at which they had stopped on ascending. Already their cheeks began to redden. They tarried a moment, then resumed their descent. In a few moments Van Tricasse begged Niklausse to go more slowly, as he felt him on his heels, and it “worried him.” It even did more than worry him; for twenty steps lower down he ordered the counsellor to stop, that he might get on some distance ahead.