“You know I love you, Flamin, more than I love myself,” he said, clasping his friend in his arms, and leading him to a seat on the watch-tower.  “Of course, I swear never to overwhelm you in misfortune, or desert you or hate you.  What is it that brings such gloomy thoughts into your mind?”

“I will tell thee everything now, Victor!” exclaimed his friend.  “I will open all my heart to thee.”

At first he was too much overcome by his feelings to speak.  For a long time the two young men remained silent, gazing into the dark blue depths of the night The Milky Way ran, like the ring of eternity, around the immensity of space; below it glided the sharp sickle of the moon, cutting across the brief days and the brief joys of men.  But clear among the stars shone the Twins, those ever-burning, intertwined symbols of friendship; westward they rose, and on the right of them blazed the heart of the Lion.  The two friends had studied astronomy together, and when Victor pointed out the happy sign in the midnight sky, Flamin began to tell him his troubles.  He, a poor clergyman’s son, had fallen wildly in love with Clotilda, the beautiful daughter of Prince January, of Flachsenfingen.  She was living at the country seat of the Lord Chamberlain Le Baut, at St. Luna; so poor Flamin was able to see her every day.  Knowing that he could neither forget her nor win her, he was tortured by a strange, hopeless jealousy, and he now confessed that, instead of looking forward with joy to Victor’s return to his home, he had been consumed with fear lest his brilliant, noble, handsome friend should utterly eclipse him in the sight of his beloved lady.

“Cannot I do anything to help you?” said Victor, tenderly.

“Your father has immense influence over Prince January,” said Flamin, “could you beg him to get me some court position at Flachsenfingen?  If only I could make my way in the world, perhaps I might be able to hope to win at last the hand of my lady.”

Victor at once promised to do all in his power; and the two friends, newly reattached to each other, came down from the watch-tower, and, with their arms lovingly entwined, they returned to the parsonage.

II.—­Love

The next day Chamberlain Le Baut gave a garden party in honour of the son of the great English minister.

“Take good care!” said the chaplain’s wife as Victor set off; “she is very beautiful.”

Victor had no need to ask who “she” was.

“I shall take care not to take care,” he replied, with a smile.

Victor was too much of a man of the world to fall in love at first sight.  But when he entered the garden, and a sweet, tall, and lovely figure came forward to greet him from behind the foliage, he felt as if all his blood had been driven in his face.  It was Clotilda.  She spoke to him, but he listened to the melody of her voice, instead of to her words, so that he did not understand what she was saying.