"'Gottlieb! Gottlieb!--pause--do not fire--do not kill my son! It is he--it is he, certainly!'
"In spite of the agitation of the old couple, I learned that Gottlieb was neither in his bed, nor in any part of the house, and that in his sleep he had, perhaps, resumed his old habit of walking over the roofs of the houses. Gottlieb was a somnambulist.
"As soon as this report was circulated through the citadel, the excitement passed away. Every keeper had time to make his rounds, and ascertain that no prisoner had disappeared, and each returned in good spirits to his post. The officers weire enchanted at the _dénoûement_; the soldiers laughed at the alarm; and Madame Swartz was beside herself, and her husband ran everywhere, exploring the fosse, fearing that the fusilade and cannon shots had awakened Gottlieb amid his dangerous walk. I went with him. It would, perhaps, have been a good time to attempt to escape myself; for it seemed to me that the doors were open, and the soldiers' attention averted. I put this idea aside, however, being occupied only with the hope of finding the poor invalid who had exhibited so much affection for me.
"Swartz, who never loses his presence of mind, seeing the day was breaking begged me to go to my room, since it was contrary to his orders to leave me at liberty at improper hours. He went with me to close the door, but the first thing he saw was Gottlieb, peaceably asleep in my chair. He had luckily been able to take refuge there before the alarm had been communicated to the whole garrison, or his sleep had been so profound and his foot so agile that he had escaped all dangers. I advised his father not to awaken him suddenly, and promised to watch over him until Vrau Swartz was informed of the happy news.
"When I was alone with Gottlieb, I placed my hand gently on his shoulder, and, speaking in a low voice, sought to awaken him. I had heard that somnambulists could place themselves in communication with persons whom they liked, and answer them distinctly. My attempt was wonderfully successful; 'Gottlieb,' said I, 'where have you been to-night?'
"'To-night--is it night? I thought I saw the morning sun shining on the roofs.'
"'Certainly: that blessed angel, the red-throat, came to the window and called me. I followed him, and we have been high up, very high up, near the stars, and almost to the angels' home. As we went up, we met Belzebub, who sought to catch us. He cannot fly, however, because God has sentenced him to a long penitence, and he sees the birds and angels fly without being able to reach them.'