The mother meanwhile sat busy with her needlework, while Eric listened attentively, with one hand clasped in the other. The song finished, Reinhard laid the sheet on one side in silence. Up from the lake-shore came through the evening calm the tinkle of the cattle bells; they were all listening without knowing why, and presently they heard a boy's clear voice singing: I stood on the mountain height And viewed the deep valley beneath.... Reinhard smiled. "Do you hear that now? So it passes from mouth to mouth." "It is often sung in these parts," said Elisabeth. "Yes," said Eric, "it is Casper the herdsman; he is driving the heifers home."[8] [8] _Starke_ is the southern dialect word for _Färse_, 'young cow,' 'heifer.' They listened a while longer until the tinkle of the bells died away behind the farm buildings. "These melodies are as old as the world," said Reinhard; "they slumber in the depths of the forest; God knows who discovered them." He drew forth a fresh sheet. It had now grown darker; a crimson evening glow lay like foam over the woods in the farther side of the lake. Reinhard unrolled the sheet, Elisabeth caught one side of it in her hand, and they both examined it together. Then Reinhard read: By my mother's hard decree Another's wife I needs must be; Him on whom my heart was set, Him, alas! I must forget; My heart protesting, but not free. Bitterly did I complain That my mother brought me pain. What mine honour might have been, That is turned to deadly sin. Can I ever hope again? For my pride what can I show, And my joy, save grief and woe? Oh! could I undo what's done, O'er the moor scorched by the sun Beggarwise I'd gladly go. During the reading of this Reinhard had felt an imperceptible quivering of the paper; and when he came to an end Elisabeth gently pushed her chair back and passed silently out into the garden. Her mother followed her with a look. Eric made as if to go after, but the mother said: "Elisabeth has one or two little things to do outside," so he remained where he was. But out of doors the evening brooded darker and darker over garden and lake. Moths whirred past the open doors through which the fragrance of flower and bush floated in increasingly; up from the water came the croak of the frogs, under the windows a nightingale commenced his song answered by another from within the depths of the garden; the moon appeared over the tree-tops. Reinhard looked for a little while longer at the spot where Elisabeth's sweet form had been lost to sight in the thick-foliaged garden paths, and then he rolled up his manuscript, bade his friends good-night and passed through the house down to the water.