le she explained to him that it was unhealthy for him to be
so much on his wheel. Besides, he should raise his handle-bar, for it
could not be good for a stomach to float like a cloud over the ground.
It also shocked the nervous system too violently, when the arms alone
bore the weight of the body, as was natural when the wheel leaped and
bumped over the uneven roadbed. Submissively and somewhat cautiously he
replied that she might be right. That evening he obediently drew up the
handle-bar by the width of a hand, and lowered the saddle. It was hard
for him; but since she was solicitous about his health, there was some
consolation in it. He thought she would not care, if she did not love
him a little.

When he returned late from a tavern, his passion got the better of him.
He went to the door of the sitting-room which led to the bedroom, and
firmly pressed down the latch--not softly, but as if he had a right
to enter. But the door was bolted. He rapped. Nothing moved; the
door remained locked. With aching limbs he went up the stairs to his
garret-room; he felt as if smoke were rising from his lungs and his
very vitals were on fire. A tempest of thoughts was brewing in his
head. In the morning he drank his coffee, pale and tortured. Spiele was
invisible. It was not her habit to be present; she always retired once
more after serving the men's breakfast and before Victor appeared. But
that morning he considered it a special measure upon which she had
decided--or a proof of guilt. He had all the day to decide which of the
two it was. At noon he asked Spiele incidentally, whether Hoeflinger
were sure to return that night and observed her from the corner of his
eyes. She said "yes" in a rather absent-minded manner, which he at once
interpreted as secret sharing of his impatience. Heaving a deep breath
he opened all doors to the remotest back gate of his soul to give free
entrance to any idea that would promise help. After work he was busy
with the idol a few minutes longer, as though he had to put something
in order. In reality he loosened some screws and unfastened a coupling.
Then he threw himself once more upon his wheel. He did not return for
supper. He sat in the inn down in the valley and only started for the
house when he was sure that Hoeflinger had returned and the couple had
retired.

[Illustration: MOORLAND]

The next morning at breakfast Hoeflinger scanned him with a searching
glance. "Did everything go well w