As, given over to such fancies, I sat on the side of my bed, I heard,
the first time for a long while, the music beneath my window. At the
first twang of the guitar a ray of light darted into my soul. I opened
the window, and called down softly, that I was awake. "Pst, pst!" was
the answer from below. Without more ado, I thrust the note into my
pocket, took my fiddle, got out of the window, and scrambled down the
ruinous old wall, clinging to the vines growing from the crevices.
One or two crumbling stones gave way, and I began to slide faster and
faster, until at last I came down upon my feet with such a sudden bump
that my teeth rattled in my head.
Scarcely had I thus reached the garden when I felt myself embraced
with such violence that I screamed aloud. My kind friend, however,
clapped his hand on my mouth, and, taking my arm, led me through the
shrubbery to the open lawn. Here, to my astonishment, I recognized the
tall student, who had a guitar slung around his neck by a broad silk
ribbon. I explained to him as quickly as possible that I wished to
escape from the garden. He seemed perfectly aware of my wishes, and
conducted me by various covert pathways to the lower door in the high
garden wall. But when we reached it, it was fast locked! The student,
however, seemed to be quite prepared for this; he produced a large key
and cautiously unlocked it.
When we found ourselves in the forest, and I was about to inquire of
him the best road to the nearest town, he suddenly fell upon one knee
before me, raised a hand aloft, and began to curse and to swear in the
most horrible manner.
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