THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ
excursion with his son. Pushing our inquiries further, we learned that he knew several of the German refugees, among others my friends, and that these had indeed spent some time in Bern, but about a week ago had left that city to go to Dornachbruck, near Basel, where he was sure I could now find them. This was disagreeable news to me. In order to join them I had to retrace my steps the way we had come. I resolved at once to do so. But Neustädter, who did not know my friends, and who hoped to find some occupation in Bern, preferred to continue his journey in that direction. Thus we parted in the little tavern, and did not meet again until eighteen years later, in St. Louis, on the Mississippi River, where he occupied a modest but respected position, and where we then pleasantly rehearsed the common adventures of our youthful days.
My arrival at Dornachbruck brought me a new disappointment. In the village inn I learned that Anneke and others of my friends had indeed been there a few days before, but after a short stop had left for Zürich. I would gladly have traveled after them at once had I been sure that those whom I sought had not left Zürich again. My purse, too, was nearly empty, and, moreover, I felt physically very much exhausted. So I concluded it would be best, for the time being, to remain in Dornachbruck. I took a room in the inn, wrote home for some money and the clothes I had left behind, and went to bed. The great excitements and fatigues of the past days began to tell on me. I was thoroughly tired out, and felt myself lonely and forsaken. Sleep refreshed me but little. In very low spirits I wandered about in the village and surrounding country, and spent many an hour in the crumbling tower of a castle ruin, lying in the grass or sitting on moss-covered masonry. My melancholy grew deeper and darker. The future lay like a
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