"Within a few days," said Cousin Boslaf, "a beacon will be erected here before the house, on a high foundation of stone, whose light can be seen a mile farther than that of my lamp. Carl Peters is appointed keeper, and will live with me in the beach-house, which for the present will serve as a watch-house, and after my death is to become the property of the government. So this great care is removed from my mind. I need say no longer, when I extinguish the lamp at daybreak: Will you be able to light it again this evening?" The old man was silent; the Swedish banner flapped still more loudly upon the roof of the beach-house; the waves broke more heavily upon the rocky strand. Gotthold's eyes wandered with deep reverence over the figure at his side, the tall form of the silver-haired old man of ninety, whose heart still beat so warmly in his breast for all mankind--for the poor sailors whom he did not know, and who did not know him, of whom he knew nothing except that they were sailing yonder in the night, invisible even to his keen eyes, and so long as they saw the light kept away from the dangerous coast, as their fathers and grandfathers had taught them to do. The old man who lived only for others, whose whole existence was nothing but love for others, from whom he neither asked nor expected love or gratitude, had to-day risked his own life to save him, who scarcely desired to be saved, to whom life seemed valueless because he loved and was not beloved in return. What would the old man say to that? Would he, in the boundlessness of his unselfish love, even be able to understand such a selfish, egotistical passion? "That was my one anxiety," Cousin Boslaf began again; "the government has relieved me of it; I have one other which no one can remove." "Does it concern her--Cecilia?" asked Gotthold with a beating heart. "Yes," said the old man, "it does concern her, Ulrica's great-grandchild, who looks so like her ancestress, but is probably even more unhappy. She should never have been allowed to marry the man, if I had had my way; but they threw my advice to the winds; they have always done so." A strange, terrible change had come over the old man. His tall form was bent as if all strength had left it; his deep voice, so firm a few moments before, quivered and trembled, when after a short pause, which Gotthold did not venture to interrupt, he continued: