see him yet, spied out instantly that I had no shadow.  He proclaimed the fact with a loud outcry to the whole assembled literary street youth of the suburb, who began forthwith to criticise me, and to pelt me with mud.  “Decent people are accustomed to take their shadows with them, when they go into the sunshine.”  To defend myself from them I threw whole handfuls of gold amongst them and sprang into a hackney-coach, which some compassionate soul procured for me.

As soon as I found myself alone in the rolling carriage I began to weep bitterly.  The presentiment must already have arisen in me that, far as gold on earth transcends in estimation merit and virtue, so much higher than gold itself is the shadow valued; and as I had earlier sacrificed wealth to conscience, I had now thrown away the shadow for mere gold.  What in the world could and would become of me!

I was still greatly discomposed as the carriage stopped before my old inn.  I was horrified at the bare idea of entering that wretched cock-loft.  I ordered my things to be brought down; received my miserable bundle with contempt, threw down some gold pieces, and ordered the coachman to drive to the most fashionable hotel.  The house faced the north, and I had not the sun to fear.  I dismissed the driver with gold; caused the best front rooms to be assigned me, and shut myself up in them as quickly as I could!

What thinkest thou I now began?  Oh, my dear Chamisso, to confess it even to thee makes me blush.  I drew the unlucky purse from my bosom, and with a kind of rage which, like a rushing conflagration, grew in me with self-increasing growth, I extracted gold, and gold, and gold, and ever more gold, and strewed it on the floor, and strode amongst it, and made it ring again, and, feeding my poor heart on the splendor and the sound, flung continually more metal to metal, till in my weariness I sank down on the rich heap, and, rioting thereon, rolled and reveled upon it.  So passed the day, the evening.  I opened not my door; the night found me lying on my gold, and then sleep overcame me.

I dreamed of thee.  I seemed to stand behind the glass-door of thy little room, and to see thee sitting then at thy work-table, between a skeleton and a bundle of dried plants.  Before thee lay open Haller, Humboldt, and Linnaeus; on thy sofa a volume of Goethe and “The Magic Ring.”  I regarded thee long, and everything in thy room, and then thee again.  Thou didst not move, thou drewest no breath—­thou wert dead!

I awoke.  It appeared still to be very early.  My watch stood.  I was sore all over; thirsty and hungry too; I had taken nothing since the morning before.  I pushed from me with loathing and indignation the gold on which I had before sated my foolish heart.  In my vexation I knew not what I should do with it.  It must not lie there.  I tried whether the purse would swallow it again—­but no!  None of my windows opened upon the sea.  I found myself compelled laboriously to drag it to a great cupboard which stood in a cabinet, and there to pile it.  I left only some handfuls of it lying.  When I had finished the work, I threw myself exhausted into an easy chair, and waited for the stirring of the people in the house.  As soon as possible I ordered food to be brought, and the landlord to come to me.