ure her loneliness and had knocked
at the house next door. In jail--yes, she knew that; but what was he
there for, what was he doing there so long? Neighbor Schneider had not
known that either--or was she perhaps unwilling to tell? And why was he
there? Well, the neighbor had made no answer to this question, but she
had struck up a great lamentation about the evil world and wicked
people, and had repeatedly crossed herself. "God preserve us, God keep
us, Holy Mother, pray for us--such a fellow, such a monster!" And then
she had sighed, "Katie, I must say I am sorry for you--heigho, such a
trial!"

There had been no comfort to be got from Mrs. Schneider; on the
contrary, since Katherine had knocked at her door a still more
consuming agitation had come over her. She trotted back and forth in
her room, from the bed to the bench, from the bench to the clothes
press, from the clothes press to the hearth; she picked up now this
thing and now that, first the pail, then the bowl, then the knife, then
the spoon--all to no end and purpose. Back in the stall the forgotten
goat bleated piteously. In the midst of her trotting the woman then
stopped suddenly and took her head in her hands; but she did not
remember the forgotten goat--what, what had neighbor Schneider said? "I
must say I am sorry for you"--and "Such a fellow, such a monster"--whom
did she mean? Who was a "fellow," who was a monster? It was to be hoped
she did not mean her William! Oho! In the meek eyes of the old lady
there began to be a gleam; she clenched her fist and beat at the wall
of the room, so that the woman next door might hear, and reviled her
the while, "Impudent jade, liar!"

No, her son was not a "fellow" and he was not a monster either. The
thought of him appeased her wrath but did not suffice to banish her
agitation. If she only knew why he did not come home for so long! Oh,
if he were only here now, to taste of the good food which daily she
cooked afresh for him, and which the cat then devoured because he still
failed to come. She herself subsisted on coffee; she could not swallow
a single morsel of food; her throat was as though strangled with cords.
And her breast was weighed down as with a rock--there was no longer any
means by which she could roll this away.

In former years she had rejoiced with the others when, heavy laden with
the harvest, the carts had reeled past her cottage; when, without
mishap, the neighbors had housed the corn, ripe an