CHAPTER II.
The Christ of Andernach
PAUL FLEMMING resumed his solitary journey. The morning was still misty, but not cold. Across the Rhine the sun came wading through the reddish vapors; and soft and silver-white outspread the broad river, without a ripple upon its surface, or visible motion of the ever-moving current. A little vessel, with one loose sail, was riding at anchor, keel to keel with another that lay beneath it, its own apparition,—and all was silent, and calm, and beautiful.
The road was for the most part solitary; for there are few travellers upon the Rhine in winter. Peasant-women were at work in the vineyards, climbing up the slippery hillsides, like beasts of burden, with large baskets upon their backs. And once during the morning a band of apprentices, with knapsacks, passed by, singing, “The Rhine! the Rhine! a blessing on the Rhine!”
