When the Ellrichs had withdrawn he went toward midnight alone into the fir woods, and heard unknown birds sing, caught strange and magic harmonies in the rustling of the branches, and felt as if he walked on air.

He went to bed in the gray of early dawn, after writing from his overflowing heart the following letter to his friend Haber in Berlin: "MY DEAREST PAUL: I am happy as I never thought of being happy.

I love an unspeakably beautiful sweet brown maiden, and I really think she loves me too.

Do not ask me to describe her.

No words or brush could do it.