Šrift:Väiksem АаSuurem Aa
“She shall never want, Hans Jörgle. The best house in the Dorf shall not have a better fireside than hers. But my question, Hans – time presses.”
Hans was silent, and lay with closed eyes for several minutes; then, laying his hand on the old man, he spoke with an utterance clear at first, but which gradually grew fainter as he proceeded, —
“Let them build no monument to one poor and humble as I am; mine were not actions glorious enough for trophies in the noon-day; but let the ‘Nachtwachter’ come here at midnight – at the same hour of my blessed dream – and let him wish me a good night. They who are sleeping will dream happier; and the waking will think, as they hear the cry, of Hans Jörgle!”