He rose, in spite of Proebler clinging to his arm. He wished to take Proebler home with him, but he could not get him to move from the spot, so Lenz requested the landlord not to allow the old man to leave the house tonight, and to give him no more to drink. When Lenz closed the door behind him, Proebler threw his snuff box after him, shouting out:-- "I shall never want it again." Panting for breath, as if he had just escaped from a hot, stifling covering, Lenz went on his way in the open air. Twilight was beginning to fell, the kingfisher was singing on the frozen stream below, the crows were flying towards the woods; a roedeer came out of the wood and stood still, looking fixedly at Lenz till he came quite close, when he sprang hurriedly back into the thicket, and his traces could be followed a long way by the snow that fell from the branches of the young firs. Lenz stood still several times to listen, for he thought he heard his name shouted out behind him; perhaps Proebler was following him; he answered in a loud voice, which was caught up by the echo; he retraced his steps a considerable way, but he saw and heard nothing; then he went straight forwards; the trees and the hills seemed to come to meet him, and he saw a female figure on his path, which looked like his mother. If she could see him as he now is! The old woman who met him nodded kindly, and said he must take good care to be out of the valley before nightfall, for there were black channels visible in the snow, and avalanches were not unfrequent round here, and people were swallowed up in a moment, before they could look round. The voice of the woman sounded strangely in his ears; it was as if his mother had really spoken--and a good hearted warning it was. Lenz made a solemn vow, deep, deep, in his heart. He was anxious not to return home quite empty handed, so he went to the nearest town to his brother-in-law, the timber merchant, and was so fortunate as to find him at home. It was difficult for Lenz to explain his purpose, for his brother-in-law either was angry, or affected to be so. He reproached Lenz for not having advised his father-in-law better, and taken the business out of his hands. Lenz was the chief cause of the old man's ruin. Whether the timber merchant were really displeased or pretended to be so, there is no better mode, at all events, of refusing assistance. Lenz implored him with uplifted hands to help him, or he must be utterly ruined. The brother-in-law shrugged his shoulders, and said Lenz had better apply to his rich uncle Petrowitsch. CHAPTER XXIX. ANOTHER WORLD. "Good evening, Herr Lenz!" called out some one to the unhappy wanderer; Lenz started--who could call him "Herr" Lenz? A sledge stopped, the Techniker threw back the furs from his face, and said:-- "There is plenty of room, let me give you a lift." He got down, took off a fur cloak, and said:--