Unwillingly he left his wife; all wished him happiness; and in the fine season of the year, on foot he took his way. Already, after a few miles, he felt how painful was the parting; for the first time in his life he felt the smart of separation; the strange objects around seemed almost savage to him; he felt as if he were lost in a hostile solitude. Then the thought occurred to him that his youth was over; that he had found a home to which he belonged, in which his heart had taken root; he could almost lament the lost levity of former years; and he felt the extremest dejection of spirit as at a village he turned into the inn to pass the night. He could not comprehend why he had left his affectionate wife and acquired parents; and peevish and discontented, he next morning set forth to continue his journey. His anguish increased as he came near the chain of mountains; the distant ruins were already visible, and gradually became more distinguishable; while numerous hill-tops rose round and clear from out the blue mist. He went timidly on; often stopping and wondering with himself at the fear, at the horror, which more and more oppressed him at every step. "Madness!" he exclaimed, "I know thee well, and thy perilous allurement; but I will manfully withstand thee. Elizabeth is no idle dream; I know that she now thinks on me, that she is expecting me, and, full of love, counts the hours of my absence. Do I not already see forests as black hair before me? Do not the lightening eyes look towards me from the brook? The giant forms, are they not advancing to me from the mountains?" With these words, he was about to lay himself down to rest beneath a tree, when he saw an old man sitting under its shadow, who was, with the greatest attention, contemplating a flower, now holding it towards the sun, then again shading it with his hand, counting its leaves, and striving in all ways to impress it strictly on his memory. As he approached nearer, the form seemed known to him, and soon no doubt remained that the old man with the flower was his father. He rushed into his arms with an expression of the most vehement joy; the other was delighted, but not astonished, at meeting him so suddenly. "Art thou come to meet me already, my son?" said the old man; "I knew that I should soon find thee, but I did not think that to-day such joy would happen to me." "How came you to know, father, that you would meet with me?"