And then I could have sworn I saw peering at her, and next at the departing form of Brother Alburtus, the loathsome features of that awful woman whom I had not seen for over ten years, from the shelter of a tangled clump of vines and brush, which I solemnly promised myself should be cut down on the morrow, root and branch. Stealthily I crept out of my hiding-place and proceeded to where it seemed I had seen the witch, but as I came near I saw naught, and yet as I walked slowly away there came faintly to mine ears as though receding from me, that horrible, cackling laugh I had reason to hold in so much dread. CHAPTER XX SISTER GENOVEVA IS GONE O thou whose glory fills the etherial throne, And all ye deathless powers, protect my son! --Iliad. Twilight was fast deepening into night when I returned to my _Kammer_ in the large Brother House, or Bethania, which we built a few years after the departure of the Eckerlings, down in the meadow, nigh the Cocalico, and facing the Sister House, or Saron, Brother Beissel's cabin sitting circumspectly between the two houses of our Order. Here, as in Zion, Sonnlein and I had adjoining cells. I was not greatly surprised as I entered mine, to hear him whistle softly a worldly tune, though where he had caught it I knew not--surely not from me--for our sober lives never favored such godless puckerings and twistings of the lips! Then he hummed the blasphemous thing for a while, changing into whistling again, and in his humming and whistlings making such vain and perverse changes, flying from high to low, from loud to soft, mingling with it all such sundry quiverings and queer little runs and trillings, until not able to stand it longer--for it seemed he would never stop--I marched sternly to the doorway of his cell, flung back the light door and spake to him, "Art crazy or in love?" "Both, _Vaterchen_, both!" he fairly shouted, as he grabbed me ere I knew what was up, and spun me around so I could hardly keep my feet. "Surely thou'rt mad," I gasped feebly as I sank down on his bench, "Hast been drinking?"--though I knew he had not. "Yea," he shouted again even louder than before, "from the loving cup of the gods!" "Be not so boisterous, thou blasphemer! Wouldst have the Brethren think thee drunk?" "The Brethren are not about; I am not so wild I know not how to save thy gentle reputation, _Vaterchen_"--and in truth in his adventures he ever regarded me. "Still it poorly becometh thee to act like a thoughtless boy," I remonstrated. "Surely, _Vaterchen_," he laughed gayly, "if thou didst but know what it is to be in love thou couldst not scold me so!" "Every man to his trade," I replied dryly, not trusting myself to look at him; "my trade is preaching and trying to behave myself. Thine appears to be loving," saying the latter as sarcastically as my dislike for sharp words and my love for him would allow.