down to the tall walnut trees of Kamp. They landed in front of the
Capucin Monastery. Lisbeth led the way through the little village,
and turning to the right pointed up the romantic, lonely valley
which leads to the Liebenstein, and even offered to go up. But
Flemming patted her cheek and shook his head. He went up the valley
alone.




CHAPTER V. JEAN PAUL, THE ONLY-ONE.



The man in the play, who wished for `some forty pounds of lovely
beef, placed in a Mediterranean sea of brewis,' might have seen his
ample desires almost realized at the table d'hote of the Rheinischen
Hof, in Mayence, where Flemming dined that day. At the head of the
table sat a gentleman, with a smooth, broad forehead, and large,
intelligent eyes. He was from Baireuth in Franconia; and talked
about poetry and Jean Paul, to a pale, romantic-looking lady on his
right. There was music all dinner-time, at the other end of the
hall; a harp and a horn and a voice; so that a great part of the fat
gentleman's conversation with the pale lady was lost to Flemming,
who sat opposite to her, and could look right into her large,
melancholy eyes. But what heheard, so much interested him,--indeed,
the very name of the beloved Jean Paul would have been enough for
this,--that he ventured to join in the conversation, and asked the
German if he had known the poet personally.