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Updated: May 27, 2025
Peeping through a window he was passing, to see whether it belonged to his room, he spied Teufelsbuerst, who, at the very moment, was lifting his head from the faint into which he had fallen at the first sight of Lottchen. The moon was shining clear, and in its light the painter saw, to his horror, the pale face staring in at his window.
He contrived to bring him to his window, and a moment after, the door was cautiously opened. "'Why, Lottchen, where do you come from? "'From the grave, Heinrich, or next door to it. "'Come in, and tell me all about it. We thought the old painter had made a model of you, and tortured you to death. "'Perhaps you were not far wrong.
'She was near enough for even me to see her perfectly. "'When? Where? How? asked Lottchen. "'Two hours ago. In the churchyard of St. Stephen's. By a lucky chance. Any more little questions, my child? answered Hoellenrachen. "'What could have taken her there, who is seen nowhere? said Richter. "She was seated on a grave. After she left, I went to the place; but it was a new-made grave.
I, too, should read them over again for the first time, those wonderful romances; yes, and I should write my own early books over again oh, the divine joy of early creation! and I should set out again with bounding pulses on my Harzreise: and the first night of Freischütz would come once more, and I should be whistling the Jungfern and sipping punch in the Casino, with Lottchen filling up my glass."
The darkness, however, favored her; and, seizing her sister's arm, she forced her along, whispering, "Come, come, come!" Lottchen could not be so dull as entirely to misunderstand her. She suffered herself to be led up the first flight of stairs, at the head of which was a room looking into the street. In this they would have gained an asylum, for the door had a strong bolt.
His strength, however, was embodied in such a softness of muscular outline, such a rare Greek-like style of beauty, and associated with such a gentleness of manner and behaviour, that, partly from the truth of the resemblance, partly from the absurdity of the contrast, he was known throughout the university by the diminutive of the feminine form of his name, and was always called Lottchen.
But Lottchen resisted the feeling, and, being already no contemptible draughtsman, was soon interested enough to forget it. And then, any moment she might enter. Now began a system of slow torture, for the chance of which the painter had been long on the watch especially since he had first seen Karl lingering about the house.
Amy shrunk closer to the wall, fearing to speak, for the voice was that of a young man, and a low laugh followed the words, as if the speaker found the situation amusing. "Mortal, ghost or devil, I'll find it," exclaimed the voice, and stepping forward, a hand groped for and found her. "Lottchen, is it thou? Little rogue, thou shalt pay dearly for leading me such a chase."
Upon my soul, I meant to help you when I followed; but as you did not answer, I fancied it was Lottchen, the keeper's little girl. Pardon the fright I've caused you, and let me take you to your friends." The true English accent of the words, and the hearty tone of sincerity in the apology, reassured Amy at once, and, rising, she said, with a faint smile and a petulant tone,
You never saw her before. "'How do you come to be over head and ears in love with her, Lottchen, and you haven't seen her at all? interposed Richter. "'Will you or will you not go to the devil? rejoined Lottchen, with a comic crescendo; to which the other replied with a laugh. "'No one could miss knowing her, said Heinrich. "'Is she so very like, then? "'It is always herself, her very self.
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