Stamping of feet and curses were the first sounds which struck my ear as I returned to consciousness.  I opened my eyes; it was dark; my detested attendant was busied scolding me.  “Is not that to behave like an old woman?  Up with you, man, and complete off-hand what you have resolved on, if you have not taken another thought and had rather blubber!” I raised myself with difficulty from the ground and gazed in silence around.  It was late in the evening; festive music resounded from the brightly illuminated Forester’s house; various groups of people wandered through the garden walks.  One couple came near in conversation, and seated themselves on the bench which I had just quitted.  They talked of the union this morning solemnized between the rich Mr. Rascal and the daughter of the house.  So, then, it had taken place!

I tore the magic-cap of the already vanished unknown from my head, and hastened in brooding silence toward the garden gate, plunging myself into the deepest night of the thicket and striking along the path past Count Peter’s arbor.  But invisibly my tormenting spirit accompanied me, pursuing me with keenest reproaches.  “These then are one’s thanks for the pains which one has taken to support Monsieur, who has weak nerves, through the long precious day.  And one shall act the fool in the play.  Good, Mr. Wronghead, fly you from me if you please, but we are, nevertheless, inseparable.  You have my gold and I your shadow, and this will allow us no repose.  Did anybody ever hear of a shadow forsaking its master?  Your’s draws me after you till you take it back again graciously, and I get rid of it.  What you have hesitated to do out of fresh pleasure, will you, only too late, be compelled to seek through new weariness and disgust.  One cannot escape one’s fate.”  He continued speaking in the same tone.  I fled in vain; he relaxed not, but, ever present, mockingly talked of gold and shadow.  I could come to no single thought of my own.

I struck through empty streets toward my house.  When I stood before it, and gazed at it, I could scarcely recognize it.  No light shone through the dashed-in windows.  The doors were closed; no throng of servants was moving therein.  There was a laugh near me.  “Ha! ha! so goes it!  But you’ll probably find your Bendel at home, for he was the other day providently sent back so weary that he has most likely kept his bed since.”  He laughed again.  “He will have a story to tell!  Well then, for the present, good night!  We meet again speedily!”

I had rung the bell repeatedly; light appeared; Bendel demanded from within who rung.  When the good man recognized my voice, he could scarcely restrain his joy.  The door flew open and we stood weeping in each other’s arms.  I found him greatly changed, weak and ill; but for me—­my hair had become quite gray!