And it soon bored him to be much with the child. If one wanted to rest the youngster was sure to start whining and squalling or if one felt inclined to play with him, to tickle his fat sides and toss him in the air, he was certain to have just dropped off to sleep, and Ida would stand sentinel over him, not suffering him to be disturbed at any price. She, indeed, seemed now to be nothing but mother, and to have forgotten altogether that she was also a wife. Heppner consequently redoubled his attentions to Frau Heimert. Albina could not endure little children, and took no interest whatever in his remarkable baby. This he thought rather stupid of her; nevertheless the Bohemian girl completely turned his head. Uninvited, he constantly dropped in now on the Heimerts "to smoke a cigar with the deputy sergeant-major," as he said. Almost shamelessly he pursued his object, grossly flattering Albina, and making risky jokes with her. Heimert sat by nearly choking with rage. He hardly knew why he did not seize the seducer by the throat. But the culprits would have a complete defence ready. Was it not all mere harmless jesting? Whatever anguish of jealousy he might feel, he must wait for fuller evidence. And into the midst of the laughter would come through the thin walls now the cry of the infant, and then the low singing of Ida as she lulled her little one to sleep. Albina wished to enjoy her revenge to the full. During the winter the sergeant-major had treated her as a cast-off love; he should suffer awhile for that. She exercised all her arts to augment his pain; it gave her a half fearful, half delicious pleasure to note his impatience. One evening Heppner seized an opportunity when he imagined himself alone with her. He caught her head in his hands almost savagely and pressed a wild, passionate kiss on her lips. Albina's defiant resolution broke down; she returned his kiss with equal passion. Heimert, standing in the dark kitchen, screened by the door, saw it all. He had been to fetch a bottle of beer, now he suddenly re-entered the room. "There's no beer, Albina," he said; "you must have been mistaken." He sat down slowly at the table, and drummed gently with his fingers on a plate. The guilty pair were as if stunned by the fervour of their embrace; though little suspecting that the betrayed husband had witnessed it. They did not respond to his remark, and seemed lost to time and space. Neither did they notice that a long, oppressive silence had fallen on them, that the lamp was burning low, and the room darkening. At last Heimert drew out his watch. "It's time to go to bed," he said; "we've got to get up to-morrow morning." Heppner and Albina awoke suddenly from their entranced condition, and the sergeant-major hastened to say good night.