At first he had only shown his courage and enterprise secretly to the farm-lads, for if Hawermann had discovered what he was about, the great glory his cane had won him on the farmboys' shoulders would have been quickly dissipated. As time went on he grew bolder from not being found out, and on Palm Sunday morning he ventured, in an evil hour for himself, to treat one of the grooms in the same way, but the man was impertinent enough to forget the respect due to him, and seized him by the collar, and beat him so hard across the back and shoulders with his own cane, that Mary Möller had to spend the greater part of the afternoon in applying damp towels to his shoulders they--smarted so terribly. The worst of it all was that every time Mary Möller laid a cool piece of linen on his back, she made his conscience prick him by recapitulating all the kindnesses she had shown him, and in spite of the pain and discomfort from which he was suffering, asked him point blank what his intentions were, taking care to assure him at the same time, that she believed in his love, and that he would be true to her. He did not like that sort of talk at all, for he himself believed far more strongly in his love for good eating than in his love for her, and as for his intentions, he would rather not tell what they were. He stammered a few words of no particular meaning, and the better his back felt, the less inclined he was to tie himself down in any way; he tried to turn the conversation to another subject, but she would not allow that to be done, and laid the damp linen on his back less gently than at first. "Triddelfitz," she said at last when she found that she could get no satisfactory answer from him, "what am I to think of you?" And then, having finished arranging the linen on his back, she came round in front of him, and putting her arms akimbo, stared him full in the face. He was rather afraid of what might follow, and said deprecatingly: "What do you mean, Polly?"--"What do I mean? Shall I have to tell you more distinctly?" she cried, her eyes losing their former sweet and loving expression, "am I always to be led by the nose?" So saying she came dose up to him, and slapped him right between the shoulders on the top of the bandages.--"Ugh!--Hang it all!" he shrieked. "That _did_ hurt."--"Ah, that hurt you, did it?" she asked. "And do you think that it doesn't hurt me to see the man to whom I have shown so much kindness treating me so deceitfully?"--"Oh, Polly! What _do_ you mean?"--"What do I mean? This is what I mean!"--thud, came her hand down on his back.--"Confound it! It's burning like fire."--"I'm glad to hear it. It's only what you deserve for making a poor girl believe all your fine speeches and promises."--"Bless me, Polly, I'm only nineteen!"--"What has that got to do with it?"--"And then I'd like to take a situation as bailiff somewhere first, and then----" --"Well, and then what?"--thud, came another slap on the