He had lost all fear, and when freshly-baked cakes were put on the table, he fell to bravely. His mother stroked his hair and warned him not to eat too much. She spoke very softly, and kept looking down upon the ground before her. And then the children were allowed to go to the bushes and pick gooseberries for themselves. “Are you really called Elsbeth?” he asked his friend, and as she said “Yes,” he expressed his astonishment that she had the same name as his mother. “But I have been christened after her,” said the child; “she is my godmother.” “Why didn’t she kiss you, then?” he asked. “I don’t know,” said Elsbeth, sadly, “perhaps she does not like me.” But that she had not had the courage to do it never occurred to either of them. It already began to grow dark when the children were called back. “We must go home,” said his mother. He was very sorry, because he had just now begun to like it. His mother pulled his collar straight, and said: “There, now kiss the lady’s hand and thank her.” He did as he was ordered, the kind lady kissed his forehead, and the man in the shooting-coat lifted him high up into the air, so that he thought he could fly. And now his mother took Elsbeth in her arms, and kissed her several times on her mouth and cheeks, and said: “May Heaven some day reward you, my child, for what your parents have done for your godmother.” A heavy burden seemed to be taken from her soul; she breathed more freely and her eyes shone. Elsbeth and her parents went with the two as far as the gate, when his mother took leave of them there over again, and stammered all sorts of things about compensation and divine blessings. The man interrupted her laughingly, and said the whole affair was not worth mentioning and did not require any thanks at all. And the kind woman kissed her warmly, and asked her to come again very soon, or at least to send the children. The mother smiled sadly and was silent. Elsbeth was allowed to go a few steps farther; then she took leave with a little courtesy. Paul’s heart was heavy; he felt there was still something he had to tell her, so he ran after her, and, when he had caught up to her, whispered into her ear, “You know--I _can_ whistle all the same!” When, mother and son entered the wood, night was closing in. It was pitch-dark all round, but he was not afraid in the least. If a wolf had come in their way now he would soon have shown him who had the best of it. His mother did not speak; the hand which clasped his so firmly burned feverishly, and her breath came from her breast like a sigh. And when they both stepped out onto the heath the moon rose pale and majestic on the horizon. A blue veil spread over the distance. Thyme and juniper sent forth their perfume, here and there a little bird twittered on the ground.