g of this
unparalleled insult? Where are you taking me?"

"To crack a bottle of wine with us," said the two students. "Come along!
That is an invitation which you have never refused."

"I never heard of such insolence in my life!" cried Von Hartmann. "Let
go my arms! I shall certainly have you rusticated for this. Let me go, I
say!" and he kicked furiously at his captors.

"Oh, if you choose to turn ill-tempered, you may go where you like," the
students said, releasing him. "We can do very well without you."

"I know you. I'll pay you out," said Von Hartmann furiously, and
continued in the direction which he imagined to be his own home, much
incensed at the two episodes which had occurred to him on the way.

Now, Madame von Baumgarten, who was looking out of the window and
wondering why her husband was late for dinner, was considerably
astonished to see the young student come stalking down the road. As
already remarked, she had a great antipathy to him, and if ever he
ventured into the house it was on sufferance, and under the protection
of the Professor. Still more astonished was she, therefore, when she
beheld him undo the wicket-gate and stride up the garden path with the
air of one who is master of the situation. She could hardly believe her
eyes, and hastened to the door with all her maternal instincts up in
arms. From the upper windows the fair Elise had also observed this
daring move upon the part of her lover, and her heart beat quick with
mingled pride and consternation.

"Good day, sir," Madame von Baumgarten remarked to the intruder, as she
stood in gloomy majesty in the open doorway.

"A very fine day indeed, Martha," returned the other. "Now, don't stand
there like a statue of Juno, but bustle about and get the dinner ready,
for I am well-nigh starved."

"Martha! Dinner!" ejaculated the lady, falling back in astonishment.

"Yes, dinner, Martha, dinner!" howled Von Hartmann, who was becoming
irritable. "Is there anything wonderful in that request when a man has
been out all day? I'll wait in the dining-room. Anything will do.
Schinken, and sausage, and prunes--any little thing that happens to be
about. There you are, standing staring again. Woman, will you or will
you not stir your legs?"

This last address, delivered with a perfect shriek of rage, had the
effect of sending good Madame von Baumgarten flying along the passage
and through the kitchen, where she locked herself up in the scullery and