the wanton, treacherous air coquets with the old gray-beard trees!
Such weather makes the grass and our beards grow apace! But we have
an old saying in English, that winter never rots in the sky. So he
will come down at last in his old-fashioned, mealy coat. We shall
have snow in spring; and the blossoms will be all snow-flakes. And
afterwards a summer, which will be no summer, but, as Jean Paul
says, only a winter painted green. Is it not so?"

"Unless I am much deceived in the climate of Heidelberg," replied
the Baron, "we shall not have to wait long for snow. We have sudden
changes here, and I should not marvel much if it snowed before
night."

"The greater reason for making good use of the morning sunshine,
then. Let us hasten to the castle, after which my heart yearns."




CHAPTER VII. LIVES OF SCHOLARS.



The forebodings of the Baron proved true. In the afternoon the
weather changed. The western wind began to blow, and its breath drew
a cloud-veil over the face of heaven, as a breath does over the
human face in a mirror. Soon the snow began to fall. Athwart the
distant landscape it swept like a white mist. The storm-wind came
from the Alsatian hills, and struck the dense clouds aslant through
the air. And ever faster fell the snow, a roaring torrent from those