Was it a priestess of the old heathen deities who stood there, in her light robe, leaning against the trunk of the mightiest oak, her gaze turned outwards upon the wide sea, whose opposite breakers washed the land of the ancient Vikings? But no! The heathen priestesses, who sacrificed at the oaks of their gods, were venerable women, while that slender figure bore all the witchery of youth, and looked much too gentle for such a horrible craft! So much spiritual tenderness lay in her large, widely-opened gazelle-like eyes, and besides--many, many centuries ago the days of Paganism had passed away, even although then, as now, the waves beat upon the strand, and the tops of the oaks rustled, for we live in the nineteenth century; old Herkus Monte and the other Nathang and Samland leaders of armies have long since been replaced by the commanders of the King of Prussia's regiments and battalions, and for two years this coast, like the whole land of Prussia, has been ruled over by that spirited Hohenzollern Prince, Friedrich Wilhelm IV. "How it blows," said the Regierungsrath, as he buttoned his overcoat more closely, "I do not love these evening amusements; I find that the sea makes a much deeper impression by day, and then, one does not expose oneself to the danger of paying for these so-called enjoyments of nature with rheumatic pains." "But, my husband," replied the Regierungsräthin, a fine woman, a thorough Lithuanian, whose cradle stood on the shores of Memel, "you are indeed too prosaic! One must just for once see the ocean by moonlight; besides Evchen has cherished this wish for long. Two weeks already have we been in Warnicken, and always have gone to bed as the moon rose." "We do not go in for marine painting," replied the Regierungsrath drily, as his chin disappeared farther and farther into his enormous white cravat, "and Eva, too, will take cold. The girl has a delicate constitution; you, dear wife, judge all the world by yourself; but we are not all so fortunate as to possess weather-proof giant natures. How the girl stands there in her light summer dress! Eva, wrap your shawl round you, a cold breeze from the north is blowing." The girl awoke as if from a dream, she wrapped herself obediently in the shawl that she carried upon her arm, and hastened towards her father and mother, who were standing against the foremost railing of the projection. "Oh, how beautiful, how enchantingly beautiful it is here," cried Eva, with her heart full, and tears standing in her eyes, tears such as only youth can shed in overflowing moods, when the charm of nature presciently awakes gloomy feelings in the heart.