Fritz had just made up his mind to ascribe to this cause, all his
nervousness; when something seemed to drop in the adjoining room; and his
dog, starting to its feet, commenced barking furiously.
Again all was still.
He got up for a moment, but fancying he heard a footstep on the stair,
concluded that the noise proceeded from one of the inmates of the house,
who was come home later than usual.
But Fritz could not sleep; and his dog seemed to share his feelings;
for he turned on his side restlessly, and occasionally gave a quick
solitary bark.
Suddenly a conviction flashed across Hartmann, that there was indeed some
one in the chamber.
His curtain stirred.
He sprang from his bed, and reached his tinder box. As the steel struck
sparks from the flint, these revealed the face of the intruder.
It was the young Polish girl.
A fur cloak was closely folded around her;--her face was deadly
pale;--with one hand she drew back her long dark hair, while she silently
uplifted the other.
Our friend's last impression was his falling back, at the moment his dog
made a spring at the girl.
The inmates of the house were alarmed. His friends were all sent for.
I arrived among the earliest. What a sight met me!
The members of the household were so stupefied that they had done nothing.
Fritz Hartmann lay on the floor insensible:--his night shirt steeped in
blood, still flowing from a mortal wound in his breast.
At his feet, moaning bitterly, its fangs and mouth filled with mingled fur
and gore, lay the Swiss dog, with two or three deep gashes across the
throat. In the adjoining room, thrown near the door, was the instrument of
Fritz's death--one of the knives we had used the evening before.
Beside it, lay a woman's cloak, the fur literally dripping with blood.
Fritz lingered for five hours. Before death, he was sensible, and told us
what I have stated:--and acknowledged that he had loved the girl, more
than her station in life might seem to warrant.
Of course, the young Pole had been concealed in the closet, and heard
Leichtberg's sallies. Love and jealousy effected the rest.
We never caught her, although we had all the Vienna police at our beck;
and accurate descriptions of her person were forwarded to the frontiers.
We were not quite certain as to her fate, but we rather suppose her to
have escaped by a back garden; in which case she must have made a most
dangerous leap; and then to have passed as a courier, riding as such
into Livonia.
Where she obtained the money or means to effect this, God knows. She must
have been a heroine in her way, for this dog is not easily overpowered,
and yet--look here! these scars were given him by that young girl.
The student whistled to a dog at his feet, which came and licked his hand,
while he showed the wounds in his throat.
"I call him Hartmann," continued he, "after my old friend. His father sent
him to me just after the funeral, and Leichtberg has got his meershaum."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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