Just as all the first questions were answered, the town clerk's wife, and Mrs. Krummhorn, the merchant's wife, came in, and were greeted with a scolding from their hostess for having arrived so late. The two ladies excused themselves in a few unmeaning phrases, and then seated themselves with an important rustle. When they took out their knitting, they set to work vehemently and waggled their heads in what would have been a supremely ridiculous manner, if it had not shown that they knew something that was worth telling. The ladies then only did their duty when they began to feel their way carefully and by degrees to the mystery, but the town-clerk's wife and Mrs. Krummhorn were prepared for the veiled attack, and pursed up their lips as tight as oyster shells, and although the council were determined to get at the news, they could not persuade the oysters to open their shells by force or diplomacy. The ladies all sighed, and dipped some muschüken in their tea, and the two oysters soon found to their terror that their news had a good chance of becoming stale and losing its freshness, they therefore unclosed their shells, and the town-clerk's wife asked the mayor's wife whether a young gentleman had not called on the mayor that afternoon.--Yes, said the mayor's wife, Mr. von Rambow's cousin had been with her husband, they had just been talking about it.--"What did he want?" asked the town-clerk's wife.--"He came to ask why the search for the stolen money had been given up, and he also asked what had taken place at Pümpelhagen--you know--about the shooting--and what was done about it."--"And what else?" asked the town-clerk's wife, without raising her eyes from her knitting.--"My husband told me that that was all," answered the mayor's wife.--"And you believe that," asked the town-clerk's wife. Now it is an insult to any court of justice, and a much greater insult to the women's council, to ask the members of either of these bodies to believe a simple natural action. The mayor's wife felt the sneer that was hidden in the question, and said sharply: "If you know better, my dear, perhaps you'll put us right."--The one oyster looked at the other, and then they both burst out laughing. Now when a comfortable looking oyster--the town-clerk's wife was stout and comely and Mrs. Krummhorn was not far behind her--indulges in a hearty laugh, it always makes a great impression on the auditors. The members of the council let their knitting fall upon their laps and gazed at the oysters.--"Good gracious!" exclaimed the hostess, "what do you know?"--"Mrs. Krummhorn may tell you," answered the town-clerk's wife, "she saw as well as I did."--Now Mrs. Krummhorn was a most excellent woman, and could tell a story well and truly, but her tongue had the same fault as old Schäfer's legs, it would not go straight, and she might have said to her neighbours: "put me straight," and "turn me round," as he did to his. She began: "Yes, he went right across the