f the country when everybody changes servants,
but I"--his voice was embarrassed, faltering, but he spoke rapidly--"I
shall not be able to stand it so long. Let me go, Mikolai, let me go on
the first of December. For the sake of our friendship I beg it of you!"
He held out his hand. "Don't refuse. Give me your hand."

Mikolai still hesitated--what was he to do to keep Martin? When he
begged like that, what was he to do--say yes, or no? But a glance from
his stepmother told him to clasp his hand.

December, the first of December! The woman gave a covert sigh of
relief; she almost succeeded in smiling in a friendly way. The look of
anguish disappeared from her face--bah! it was a long time to December,
weeks and weeks, more than two months! All at once she could have
shouted with joy; Mr. Tiralla would not be living then.

"Won't you drink something?" she said to her husband, bending over him
so as to fill his glass.

But Mr. Tiralla shrank back as though she were poisonous, and when she
continued to urge him in a friendly voice he growled, got up from his
chair, and stole out of the room.

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

[Pg 251]

Mr. Tiralla stood outside in the yard blinking in the pale moonlight.
It was autumn and the night was cold; he felt so chilly that he
shivered and coughed more than ever; he fumbled about with restless
fingers. Were the powders still in the little box that he had carried
about with him for so long? Were they really there, quite safe? Ugh!
Sophia was trying to kill him again!

His teeth, which had grown quite loose, chattered in his terror. If he
were asleep and felt nothing? Had she not already once put her hand
into his pocket? If she found them this time, he would be done for. But
she should not have the chance. A cunning grin distorted his face,
which had grown as yellow as it before was red, and the expression of
which was now just as weak and malevolent as it before had been
good-natured. He would hide the powders in quite a different place, and
she should never, never get to know where they had been put. No, never!

Casting a timid glance around to see if anybody were watching him, he
tottered across the yard. Nobody was there, nothing but the moon, that
looked out from between the clouds above the barn and gave light.

There was not a sound to be heard, neither snorting nor lowing; the
horses were standing in front of the rack, sleeping, and the c