Harz　bowed　to　her；　her　patient　figure；　in　spite　of　its　youth　and
  strength；　seemed　to　him　pathetic。　　Taking　up　his　knapsack；　he　went
  out。
  The　smoke　of　cottages　rose　straight；　wisps　of　mist　were　wandering
  about　the　valley；　and　the　songs　of　birds　dropping　like　blessings。
  All　over　the　grass　the　spiders　had　spun　a　sea　of　threads　that　bent
  and　quivered　to　the　pressure　of　the　air；　like　fairy　tight…ropes。
  All　that　day　he　tramped。
  Blacksmiths；　tall　stout　men　with　knotted　muscles；　sleepy　eyes；　and
  great　fair　beards；　came　out　of　their　forges　to　stretch　and　wipe　their
  brows；　and　stare　at　him。
  Teams　of　white　oxen；　waiting　to　be　harnessed；　lashed　their　tails
  against　their　flanks；　moving　their　heads　slowly　from　side　to　side　in
  the　heat。　　Old　women　at　chalet　doors　blinked　and　knitted。
  The　white　houses；　with　gaping　caves　of　storage　under　the　roofs；　the
  red　church　spire；　the　clinking　of　hammers　in　the　forges；　the　slow
  stamping　of　oxen…all　spoke　of　sleepy　toil；　without　ideas　or　ambition。
  Harz　knew　it　all　too　well；　like　the　earth's　odour；　it　belonged　to
  him；　as　Sarelli　had　said。
  Towards　sunset　coming　to　a　copse　of　larches；　he　sat　down　to　rest。　　It
  was　very　still；　but　for　the　tinkle　of　cowbells；　and；　from　somewhere
  in　the　distance；　the　sound　of　dropping　logs。
  Two　barefooted　little　boys　came　from　the　wood；　marching　earnestly
  along；　and　looking　at　Harz　as　if　he　were　a　monster。　　Once　past　him；
  they　began　to　run。
  'At　their　age；'　he　thought；　'I　should　have　done　the　same。'　　A　hundred
  memories　rushed　into　his　mind。
  He　looked　down　at　the　village　straggling　belowwhite　houses　with
  russet　tiles　and　crowns　of　smoke；　vineyards　where　the　young　leaves
  were　beginning　to　unfold；　the　red…capped　spire；　a　thread　of　bubbling
  stream；　an　old　stone　cross。　　He　had　been　fourteen　years　struggling　up
  from　all　this；　and　now　just　as　he　had　breathing　space；　and　the　time
  to　give　himself　wholly　to　his　workthis　weakness　was　upon　him！
  Better；　a　thousand　times；　to　give　her　up！
  In　a　house　or　two　lights　began　to　wink；　the　scent　of　wood　smoke
  reached　him；　the　distant　chimes　of　bells；　the　burring　of　a　stream。
  IX
  Next　day　his　one　thought　was　to　get　back　to　work。　　He　arrived　at　the
  studio　in　the　afternoon；　and；　laying　in　provisions；　barricaded　the
  lower　door。　　For　three　days　he　did　not　go　out；　on　the　fourth　day　he
  went　to　Villa　Rubein。。。。
  Schloss　Runkelsteingrey；　blind；　strengthlessstill　keeps　the
  valley。　　The　windows　which　once；　like　eyes；　watched　men　and　horses
  creeping　through　the　snow；　braved　the　splutter　of　guns　and　the　gleam
  of　torches；　are　now　holes　for　the　birds　to　nest　in。　　Tangled　creepers
  have　spread　to　the　very　summits　of　the　walls。　　In　the　keep；　instead
  of　grim　men　in　armour；　there　is　a　wooden　board　recording　the　history
  of　the　castle　and　instructing　visitors　on　the　subject　of
  refreshments。　　Only　at　night；　when　the　cold　moon　blanches　everything；
  the　castle　stands　like　the　grim　ghost　of　its　old　self；　high　above　the
  river。
  After　a　long　morning's　sitting　the　girls　had　started　forth　with　Harz
  and　Dawney　to　spend　the　afternoon　at　the　ruin；　Miss　Naylor；　kept　at
  home　by　headache；　watched　them　depart　with　words　of　caution　against
  sunstroke；　stinging　nettles；　and　strange　dogs。
  Since　the　painter's　return　Christian　and　he　had　hardly　spoken　to　each
  other。　　Below　the　battlement　on　which　they　sat；　in　a　railed　gallery
  with　little　tables；　Dawney　and　Greta　were　playing　dominoes；　two
  soldiers　drinking　beer；　and　at　the　top　of　a　flight　of　stairs　the
  Custodian's　wife　sewing　at　a　garment。　　Christian　said　suddenly：　〃I
  thought　we　were　friends。〃
  〃Well；　Fraulein　Christian；　aren't　we？〃
  〃You　went　away　without　a　word；　friends　don't　do　that。〃
  Harz　bit　his　lips。
  〃I　don't　think　you　care；〃　she　went　on　with　a　sort　of　desperate　haste；
  〃whether　you　hurt　people　or　not。　　You　have　been　here　all　this　time
  without　even　going　to　see　your　father　and　mother。〃
  〃Do　you　think　they　would　want　to　see　me？〃
  Christian　looked　up。
  〃It's　all　been　so　soft　for　you；〃　he　said　bitterly；　〃you　don't
  understand。〃
  He　turned　his　head　away；　and　then　burst　out：　〃I'm　proud　to　come
  straight　from　the　soilI　wouldn't　have　it　otherwise；　but　they　are　of
  'the　people；'　everything　is　narrow　with　themthey　only　understand
  what　they　can　see　and　touch。〃
  〃I'm　sorry　I　spoke　like　that；〃　said　Christian　softly；　〃you've　never
  told　me　about　yourself。〃
  There　was　something　just　a　little　cruel　in　the　way　the　painter　looked
  at　her；　then　seeming　to　feel　compunction；　he　said　quickly：　〃I　always
  hatedthe　peasant　lifeI　wanted　to　get　away　into　the　world；　I　had　a
  feeling　in　hereI　wantedI　don't　know　what　I　wanted！　　I　did　run
  away　at　last　to　a　house…painter　at　Meran。　　The　priest　wrote　me　a
  letter　from　my　fatherthey　threw　me　off；　that's　all。〃
  Christian's　eyes　were　very　bright；　her　lips　moved；　like　the　lips　of　a
  child　listening　to　a　story。
  〃Go　on；〃　she　said。
  〃I　stayed　at　Meran　two　years；　till　I'd　learnt　all　I　could　there；　then
  a　brother　of　my　mother's　helped　me　to　get　to　Vienna；　I　was　lucky
  enough　to　find　work　with　a　man　who　used　to　decorate　churches。　　We
  went　about　the　country　together。　　Once　when　he　was　ill　I　painted　the
  roof　of　a　church　entirely　by　myself；　I　lay　on　my　back　on　the　scaffold
  boards　all　day　for　a　weekI　was　proud　of　that　roof。〃　　He　paused。
  〃When　did　you　begin　painting　pictures？〃
  〃A　friend　asked　me　why　I　didn't　try　for　the　Academie。　　That　started
  me　going　to　the　night　schools；　I　worked　every　minuteI　had　to　get　my
  living　as　well；　of　course；　so　I　worked　at　night。
  Then　when　the　examination　came；　I　thought　I　could　do　nothingit　was
  just　as　if　I　had　never　had　a　brush　or　pencil　in　my　hand。　　But　the
  second　day　a　professor　in　passing　me　said；　'Good！　Quite　good！'　　That
  gave　me　courage。　　I　was　sure　I　had　failed　though；　but　I　was　second
  out　of　sixty。〃
  Christian　nodded。
  〃To　work　in　the　schools　after　that　I　had　to　give　up　my　business；　of
  course。　　There　was　only　one　teacher　who　ever　taught　me　anything；　the
  others　all　seemed　fools。　　This　man　would　come　and　rub　out　what　you'd
  done　with　his　sleeve。　　I　used　to　cry　with　ragebut　I　told　him　I
  could　only　learn　from　him；　and　he　was　so　astonished　that　he　got　me
  into　his　class。〃
  〃But　how　did　you　live　without　money？〃　asked　Christian。
  His　face　burned　with　a　dark　flush。　　〃I　don't　know　how　I　lived；　you
  must　have　been　through　these　things　to　know；　you　would　never
  understand。〃
  〃But　I　want　to　understand；　please。〃
  〃What　do　you　want　me　to　tell　you？　　How　I　went　twice　a　week　to　eat
  free　dinners！　　How　I　took　charity！　　How　I　was　hungry！　　There　was　a
  rich　cousin　of　my　mother'sI　used　to　go　to　him。　　I　didn't　like　it。
  But　if　you're　starving　in　the　winter〃
  Christian　put　out　her　hand。
  〃I　used　to　borrow　apronsful　of　coals　from　other　students　who　were　as
  poorbut　I　never　went　to　the　rich　students。〃
  The　flush　had　died　out　of　his　face。
  〃That　sort　of　thing　makes　you　hate　the　world！　　You　work　till　you
  stagger；　you're　cold　and　hungry；　you　see　rich　people　in　their
  carriages；　wrapped　in　furs；　and　all　the　time　you　want　to　do　something
  great。　　You　pray　for　a　chance；　any　chance；　nothing　comes　to　the　poor！
  It　makes　you　hate　the　world。〃
  Christian's　eyes　filled　with　tears。　　He　went　on：
  〃But　I　wasn't　the　only　one　in　that　condition；　we　used　to　meet。
  Garin；　a　Russian　with　a　brown　beard　and　patches　of　cheek　showing
  through；　and　yellow　teeth；　who　always　looked　hungry。　　Paunitz；　who
  came　from　sympathy！　　He　had　fat　cheeks　and　little　eyes；　and　a　big
  gold　chainthe　swine！　And　little　Misek。　　It　was　in　his　room　we　met；
  with　the　paper　peeling　off　the　walls；　and　two　doors　with　cracks　in
  them；　so　that　there　was　always　a　draught。　　We　used　to　sit　on　his　bed；
  and　pull　the　dirty　blankets　over　us　for　warmth；　and　smoketobacco
  was　the　last　thing　we　ever　went　without。　　Over　the　bed　was　a　Virgin
  and　ChildMisek　was　a　very　devout　Catholic；　but　one　day　when　he　had
  had　no　dinner　and　a　dealer　had　kept　his　picture　without　paying　him；
  he　took　the　image　and　threw　it　on　the　floor　before　our　eyes；　it
  broke；　and　he　trampled　on　the　bits。　　Lendorf　was　another；　a　heavy
  fellow　who　was　always　puffing　out　his　white　cheeks　and　smiting
  himself；　and　saying：　'Cursed　society！'　　And　Schonborn；　an　aristocrat
  who　had　quarrelled　with　his　family。　　He　was　the　poorest　of　us　all；
  but　only　he　and　I　would　ever　have　dared　to　do　anythingthey　all　knew
  that！〃
  Christian　listened　with　awe。　　〃Do　you　mean？〃　she　said；　〃do　you　mean；
  that　you？〃
  〃You　see！　you're　afraid　of　me　at　once。　　It's　impossible　even　for　you
  to　understand。　　It　only　makes　you　afraid。　　A　hungry　man　living　on
  charity；　sick　with　rage　and　shame；　is　a　wolf　even　to　you！〃
  Christian　looked　straight　into　his　eyes。
  〃That's　not　true。　　If　I　can't　understand；　I　can　feel。　　Would　you　be
  the　same　now　if　it　were　to　come　again？〃
  〃Yes；　it　drives　m