"And yet it was delightful, in spite of cliffs and chasms," Erna declared. "Was I not right, Wolf? It is so fine to ascend from below, to feel your strength increase with every step onward, with every obstacle overcome, and at last to stand above on the height, conscious of victory, as you are now!"
"And with my best beloved beside me," Elmhorst added, with pa.s.sionate tenderness. "You came to me in the darkest hour of my life, when everything about me was crumbling to ruin, and with you my lost fortune returned to me. Now I can hold it fast and pursue my way to loftier goals."
The night fell slowly, the sacred old Midsummer night with its breath of mystery. It was not filled as on that other night with dreamy moonlight, but a clear starlit sky arched above the mountains, which began to glow here and there with the beacon-fires,--the largest, as of old, kindled upon the slope of the Wolkenstein. It flashed abroad over the realm of the Alpine Fay,--her conquered realm, into which human will had broken a pathway in spite of all her terrors, and in which it had come off victorious in a strife with the blind fury of the elements. The work was finished,--the iron road wound secure among the mountains, the huge bridge spanned the dizzy chasm, and the Wolkenstein, unveiled, looked down upon it all. One brilliant star gleamed just above its peak upon the brow of the Alpine Fay.
FOOTNOTE:
[Footnote 1: "Cloud-stone."]
THE END.