Schlickeisen now tried to give the conversation a different turn. “What a beautiful lake that seemed,” said he, “into which we guided the raft. I felt enraptured at the first view. That smooth, unrippled surface, reflecting the surrounding landscape and the sky above it so pure and blue; those curves and creeks which appeared almost lost beneath the dark verdure of the virgin woods; those capes and promontories which seemed longing to meet in the transparent fluid; and though last, not least, that wild forest, like a frame around a mirror, with its fantastic creepers and winding plants, the wood-giants defining their dark yet shining foliage against that lovely sky and intermingling with wonderful orchids and beautiful flowers—all these presented such a charming picture that I almost remained spellbound for the moment.” Wienersdorf, who had been seated, lost in meditation, seemed greatly attracted by this description. He gradually lifted his head, looked at the speaker and listened attentively. He appeared to have taken leave of his melancholy thoughts and his face reflected the truth of the words spoken by his companion. “Oh, yes! that lake was indeed lovely,” he said, when the other had ceased speaking. “Especially lovely in its solitude. Everything shone and glittered under the rays of the tropical sun like diamonds just escaped from the hands of the Creator.” “Ha! ha! ha!” laughed Johannes. “What are you laughing at?” Wienersdorf asked, somewhat vexed. “Continue, continue!” Johannes said, still laughing. “Pray don’t allow your poetical strains to be disturbed by prosaical me. I like to listen to you.” “I felt exalted,” Wienersdorf continued, “especially as those shores are not poisoned by the smoke of factories; no steamboats ruffle the smooth surface of the lake; no steam-whistle breaks the calm and holy silence of its banks, and no human crowd pursuing gain and practising usury. One felt there alone, alone under the eye of God.”