The other husband and wife were not in a warm room like these; the labourer was confined in a cold cellar, while his wife knelt at the window of his prison unheeding the cold drizzling November rain which was wetting her to the skin, they were not sitting side by side, but were separated by an iron grating.--"Joe," she whispered through the grating, "tell the truth."--"They stole it from me," was the answer.--"Who stole it, Joe?"--"How can I tell?" he said, and it was the truth; he did not know the name of the woman who had taken the black pocket-book out of his waistcoat pocket in the full light of day, when he was reeling along the Gallin road only half conscious of what he was doing after his potations of the night before, to say nothing of the two gills of brandy he had taken that morning on an empty stomach. He could not tell the truth; how could he acknowledge that he, a young strong man, had allowed a woman to steal three hundred pounds from him on the public road? He could not do it even to save his life.--"You're telling me a lie, Joe! If you can't tell me the truth, won't you tell it to our old bailiff?"--It was impossible, he could not tell him of all people; especially when he remembered how solemnly he had once promised Hawermann that he would never again tell a lie. He could not do it.--"Bring me my file, Mary, and any silver you have"--"What do you mean, Joe?"--"I'm going to run away."--"Oh, Joe, Joe, will you really leave me and the babies all alone?"--"I must go, Molly. I'll never get on here now."--"Only tell the truth, Joe, and all will be well."--"If you don't bring me the file and some money, I'll kill myself to-night."--There was much entreaty of her husband here also, as upstairs in the sitting-room, but the truth remained unspoken, and this wife left her husband with as sad a heart as the other had done. Next morning there was great excitement at Pümpelhagen when it became known that the labourer had escaped. The mayor made arrangements for his apprehension, and then drove home with the attorney. Alick was furious, no one knew exactly with whom, but probably with himself, for it was by his orders that Regel had been locked up in the cellar.