* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Marianna was in her first deep sleep that night when she heard her
master's door creak. Suddenly everything came back to her. Holy Mother,
the mushrooms. Did he feel very bad? The poor master! She jumped out of
bed as quick as lightning and rushed to the door. But when she tore it
open, she saw that it was only her mistress who had just carefully
closed the master's door opposite and was standing outside. What had
she been up to in that room? The maid almost screamed, she was so
surprised.

Mrs. Tiralla looked frightened when she caught [Pg 150] sight of the
maid, and they stared at each other for some moments. Then the woman
put her finger to her lips, "Sh! I--I--couldn't sleep upstairs--I heard
something--and I thought of thieves--yes, thieves--and then I ran
down."

"Oh, there are no thieves here." The maid gave a loud laugh, it sounded
too ridiculous that the Pani, who had never been afraid of thieves,
should suddenly speak of them. Surely she had not come down on account
of them? But why? It had never occurred to her to creep down to Mr.
Tiralla before? Marianna's eyes grew very big. But then she suddenly
thought, she has wanted to see how he feels after the food, for he ate
every bit of it, the poor man. Marianna sighed. Then she cast an
insolent glance at her mistress and said:

"Well, and how's the master? I suppose he's not very well, eh?"

"Why, why?" asked the woman, trembling. But then she grew calm, the
girl's impertinent glances helped her to regain her composure. "I don't
know what you mean," she said in a lofty tone. "Mr. Tiralla is sleeping
quietly." With a slight nod she turned away and crept so softly up to
her room that not a stair creaked.

Driven by curiosity Marianna put her head into her master's room. All
was dark; she could see nothing, but she heard him breathing regularly
and deeply. He did not even groan, he was sleeping so quietly. Was he
still alive? She groped her way to the bed. Thank God, there he lay
warm and comfortable.

As she bent over him he stretched out his arms and stammered, half
asleep, "Heigh, darling!"

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

[Pg 151]

Mrs. Tiralla was standing before her glass upstairs looking at her
pale, disfigured face. She felt overcome with shame, a shame that was
even greater than her terror. What must the maid have thought of her?
Dark lines under her ey