last the worst came. The squire of the village had heard of her
condition, and now gave full scope to the spite he had so long
harbored. He sent the constable to tell her that she must leave the
village, as otherwise her child, if born there, would have a right to
claim a settlement and come upon the parish.

Vefela would not allow any resistance to be made to this act of
cruelty. In a stormy autumn night she got into the little wagon, and
Wendel drove her to Seedorf. On the road Wendel tried to comfort her as
well as he could. He said he could never forgive himself for not having
pitched Brenner down the Bildechingen steep, as he once intended, and
mashed him to a jelly. Vefela seemed almost glad to find no chance to
live at Seedorf. Wendel begged and implored her to go with him to his
mother in Bohndorf. But she was deaf to all his prayers, sent him back
next morning, and went on her way on foot to Tuebingen, as she said.
Nero had gone with them too, and would not be separated from Vefela.
Wendel had to tie him with a rope under the little wagon.

The wind drove the rain about, and the soil was so slippery that Vefela
lost her footing at every step as she took the way to Rottenburg. She
wore a city dress, and had a light-red kerchief on her neck. Under her
arm was a little bundle. An old song, long forgotten, suddenly returned
to her thoughts,--the song of the earl's daughter who was betrayed.
Without opening her lips, she often repeated to herself,--

"O, weep ye for your land so wide,
Or weep ye for your fallen pride?
Or your bright cheeks that are so wan,
Or for your honor that is gone?
Gone, gone!
Your honor that is gone."

She was hardly a hundred yards out of Seedorf before something rushed
up to her. At first she started; but soon her eyes brightened, for it
was Nero. He had a piece of rope around his neck, and seemed so happy!

The storm was so severe that it seemed as if two stones were being
struck together close by your ears, and as if intangible, rustling
curtains were weaving themselves around and around as if to smother
you. As she went slowly on her way, of a sudden the thought fell on her
like a thunderbolt that Brenner was now upon the sea. Only once had she
seen a picture of the storm in the gospel, but now she saw the terrible
reality: she was in the midst of it herself. The dark, hilly billows
tossed the ship,