ll. Besides, what had he to fear from little Boehnke? He was pale and
humble, pleased when you left him in peace, and did nobody any harm.

So Mr. Tiralla put up with the schoolmaster's company and they walked
together like father and son. And when they came to the farm gate he
did not even object to his going still further with him. "Come along,
little Boehnke," he said, "come into my room. Marianna shall fetch us
something out of the cellar; I've got the key. Then we two will have a
drink by ourselves."

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

It was a long sitting. It had been early in the afternoon when they
came from Starawie['s], now it was almost evening. During all those
hours the house had been as quiet as though not a single soul, as
though not even a mouse were there. And still every time a glass was
put on the table with more noise than usual Mr. Tiralla had hastily put
his finger to his lips, "Sh!" He had drawn nearer and nearer to his
friend as he [Pg 224] whispered to him. For the schoolmaster was his
friend, and it did him good to have such a friend. Did little Boehnke
know what a mouse felt like when it was being enticed into a trap with
bacon? Oh, his wife was kind to him now, she was so bright, and smiled
the whole day long. She would even have brought him something to drink
with her own hands if he had asked for it, she who had formerly turned
up her nose and said, "Pooh! you stink!" if he had only drunk one small
glass. But who could trust her? "For listen, little Boehnke"--Mr.
Tiralla put his arm round the other man's neck and breathed into his
ear with trembling voice--"listen! she's laying a trap for me. And when
I'm dead, my friend--sh!"--he clapped his hand over the other man's
mouth as he was about to jump up--"be quiet. You mustn't betray me,
hold your tongue. And when I'm dead, then, oh then----"

Mr. Tiralla could not speak any more. He hiccoughed and sobbed, for he
had already drunk a great deal, and then, putting his head on the
table, he began to weep.

The schoolmaster sat motionless. He scarcely heard what the man had
been saying, for he was listening the whole time for a sound in the
house. Would he not soon hear her steps, her voice? How he longed for
them. But nothing moved. Everybody was in the fields bringing in the
clover, Marianna had said when she brought the last bottle in, and then
they had watched her through the window, as she, too, went off with h