Gotthold hurried on still faster, hoping he should now soon reach his goal, but he turned out of one street lined with gardens into another--the suburbs seemed to have no end. It was still half an hour's walk to the racecourse, was the reply to his question. A light open carriage, drawn by two superb horses, overtook and dashed past him; he thought he had seen the face of the elegant young man who occupied the seat behind the driver before. The young man turned towards him, and instantly tapped his coachman eagerly on the shoulder; the carriage stopped; its occupant sprang out and hastily approached Gotthold, waving his hand, and calling: "Do I meet you at last?" A moment after, Gotthold was seated beside young Prince Prora, the horses dashed onward, and dusty pedestrians, hedges, gardens, villas, and barns flitted by them on either side. "You don't know how glad I am," said the Prince, pressing Gotthold's hand again; "but you will when I tell you that I came from Berlin, where I was engaged in a most important consultation with Schinkel about my castle, solely on your account. Count Ingenheim wrote that you had left Rome, and I heard from Prora that you were staying in this neighborhood, so I came to seek, see, talk, persuade, obtain--enfin: you must paint my castle in fresco. I have set my heart upon it, and you, I suppose, have no reason to say no: Schinkel desires it too, so you must consent. He wants you, you and nobody else; I know no one by whom I can be so sure of being understood, he said, and was delighted when I told him that I had had the honor of a personal acquaintance with you for a long time, and had spent the most delightful winter in Rome in your society. Ah! that divine Rome! But you conjurers shall restore it to me on the walls of my northern castle; I want nothing but Roman, or at least Italian, landscapes in the dining-room; all bright and sunny as you can paint so marvellously, grave as you are; and as for the landscapes of my native country, which we intend to have in the hall where the weapons are hung, I won't interfere with you at all. It shall be left entirely to you; and you can revel in melancholy, like the Danish Prince, but first of all you must say yes--will you?" The eager young man held out his hand, and a shadow crossed his delicate, winning face as Gotthold hesitated to clasp it. How willingly, how joyfully he would have accepted a commission so delightful, so complimentary, and so important; a commission which promised to fulfil all that his artist heart could only desire; but now, to-day-- "You don't wish to undertake it?" said the young Prince, sadly.