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 “That, time will shew,” replied the hermit calmly, and bidding me farewell, requested me not to come again to him, as he would be absent for a considerable time.

“Father!” I exclaimed with emotion, “what if we never see each other again! Twelve months is a long time; you are old and stricken in years, God may call you to himself, and then what shall I do?”

“Apply to the proper civil authority in this town where my papers will be found after my death; they will furnish you with more particular information.”—With these words he presented me his hand with a manner and air, as mild and kind as at first had been harsh and unfriendly. It appeared as if he had some presentiment that we should never meet again, which alas! proved subsequently but too well founded.

“God be with you,” said he, mildly; and, blessing me, “may he let the light of his countenance shine upon you, and be favourable to your wishes of deserving the love of the virtuous Liesli.—Amen, Amen!” Upon this he left me, proceeding by the road across the graves till I saw him—no more! He was now gone—Liesli was gone—I knew not even who she was, and I had one whole year yet to wait!

Now that she had left, my enquiries could not affect her reputation, and I hastened back to my inn with the most anxious curiosity. I intended first of all to question my landlady, a very talkative woman, about the hermit, and then I imagined the conversation would naturally turn upon Liesli.

The Anchorite, I found, stood very high in her estimation, and was greatly respected; his advice was sought by all the afflicted; he devoted himself to the service of every one, of whatever station, with unwearied zeal and activity; his course of life was pure and unstained, his reputation known to all around, both far and near.

I listened attentively to every word, and with shame I confessed to myself how easily I had yielded to suspicions unfavourable to the character of the hermit, and how much I had wronged him in harbouring a doubt as to his real worth