Just then it struck ten o'clock. The tattoo sounded. "So late already?" exclaimed the sergeant-major. "I must be off at once with this to the baggage-waggon." He took up his box and turned to go. In the doorway he paused once more and said, "I shall only just go through the battery and then come back to bed, for I must be up betimes in the morning." The sick woman lay waiting. She had taken the knife with her into the bedroom hidden under her shawl, and now held it grasped convulsively in her hand. Close by in the sitting-room her sister was bustling about. The door had remained half open, so that her movements and occupations could be plainly perceived from the bedroom. At last she undressed herself hurriedly, as if forced to hasten. Through the half opened door she called softly into the dark bedroom, "Julie, are you asleep?" Then again, louder and more insistently, "Julie, are you asleep?" She stood listening awhile at the door, and then got into bed. The door was still open and the sick woman heard how restlessly she tossed about. An hour later the sergeant-major opened the outer door. He took his spurred boots off in the corridor, and slipped cautiously into the bedroom. Once more came a whispered, "Julie, are you asleep?" and the woman felt as if she could have laughed aloud at the fools who let themselves be thus led by the nose. Heppner stripped his uniform off rapidly. Then he moved again to the side of her bed and listened--as on that other night. The invalid lay motionless. The deceived wife suffered the tortures of the damned; and it seemed to her that her agony must be as eternal as hell itself. She clutched so hard at the knife-handle that her nails were driven into her flesh, and she bit her lips until they bled to keep herself from shrieking with frenzy. A thousand times she thought that morning must be breaking; yet still the shameless pair were together. At last came an end to the horror. The woman was asleep already when the man left her. She did not reply to the farewell which he whispered to her from the door. Then he lay down, breathing heavily, and in a moment had fallen into a deep sleep. Julie waited a little while. Then she got up, her husband's snores and heavy breathing drowning the slight noise of her movements. Now she was standing with her bare feet on the boards. She had the knife in her right hand. Which of the two should she punish first? She must kill them both, that was certain. But before she died that shameless creature should know the truth. A flood of abusive words, the most obscene and filthy she could conjure up, lay on her tongue. She would shriek them into the ears of her dying victims, would shout for joy, would exult over them! Oh, how she would triumph! After all the shame, after all the sorrow, she would at last remain the conqueror!