If he dared hope one day to win this young heart for his own, then all would be made right again. Then the burden of guilt, borne for years, would fall of itself. Then what filled his life with vague uneasiness, and made him sometimes not know himself, would yield to peace and a happy state of mind. It would die away--die like that flickering, greedy, leaping flame, which now, at last, had sunk, and lay at rest in a dull red-hot glow. And when he turned round he saw that the grand spectre which had cast its shadow, hatchet in hand on the wall, had gone too. His mood became pleasantly dreamy. He rested his head in his hands, and his foot on the body of the dog that lay stretched full length on the hearth luxuriating in the warmth. As he stared at the red ashes, an earnest of how his future was to shape itself made him feel as if a cool hand were laid soothingly on his brow. He must have sat musing thus for quite a quarter of an hour, when the St. Bernard barked. Carriage-wheels sounded without, and voices. "How glad I am they didn't come before," he thought, full of gratitude for the blessings the last hour or so had rained upon him. He went out. A long waggonette full of men and lights stood on the dyke, and close behind it one of the smaller Halewitz carriages, from which his mother's voice greeted him, half choked by tears. "Found!" he cried, gleefully. There was great rejoicings at the news. His mother climbed down from the carriage followed by the stout lady-help, who was laden with a supply of dry clothes. Elly had, of course, given wrong directions. For two hours the carriages had been driving about from village to village. His mother went into the house with the clothes, and begged him to wait outside. "Don't scold her," he called after her on the threshold. "She has already had her share." "I hope that you were not too hard on her!" she exclaimed. He felt that he was growing red, and did not meet her glance. It was a long time before any one came out again. The servants stamped on the dyke to keep their feet warm. The brandy bottle circulated. The maids let themselves be tickled, and gave a suppressed squeal when the lads went too far. Some of them hummed now and again a snatch of song. He leaned against his grey mare. Sounds and shadows passed before his consciousness like a dream. At last, after about half an hour, she appeared, holding his mother's hand, in the doorway, her head wrapped in a woollen shawl and a wide fur-cloak flung round her. The servants wanted to cheer, but he forbade any demonstration. "Just think," protested grandmamma, while her eyes beamed with delight; "the little rogue did not want to come away a bit. Only when I had promised that Mamselle should stay and tend the sick woman, would she graciously condescend to follow me."