Soon Wegstetten had no complaint to make of his sergeant-major, but Heimert still went on playing with his little figures. For these wooden guns and horsemen he was now the commander of the battery, and he would not be contented till his miniature troop was brought to as great a state of perfection as reigned under the captain of the sixth battery. Albina shook her head over her husband's conduct. The man was ill, of that she was convinced. She spoke to him once of consulting the doctor, but Heimert repulsed her roughly. "Thank God!" he said; "there's nothing the matter with me. I wish everybody were as healthy as I am!" After this she left him in peace. In her opinion some insidious disease was advancing upon him, and sooner or later the trouble would break out. Heimert's appetite began to fail at last; he hardly ate any-thing. He had always been extremely ugly, but people now shrank back at the sight of his face. His eyes had become sunken, and had acquired an unnatural brilliancy, while his hideous nose jutted out prominently from the middle of his ashy countenance. Albina sighed. What sort of show could one make with a husband like that? It was fortunate that he kept out of the way so much. But the time began to hang very heavy on her hands. From sheer ennui she took to having her hair curled. The barber who shaved the sergeant-major every morning had already offered his services, commenting in a most flattering manner on the magnificent hair which he said she did not show off to the best advantage. Albina had hitherto passed him proudly by. She despised barbers. But now she began to observe him more closely. He appeared to her a polite, agreeable, young man; he was good-looking too, even elegant. And he was entertaining. He could tell her the most interesting things about all sorts of people. "You see, madam," he used to say, "a barber is one of the family almost. He sees people in _déshabille_, as it were. And sometimes one learns all manner of strange things. Of course the honour of the profession forbids gossiping. But there is no harm in repeating little trifling occurrences. Don't you think so? It amuses one's clients; and that is quite permissible." Albina entirely agreed with him. Here was at least a man with whom one could have some rational conversation. During the exercises one morning the captain came riding up to the sergeant-major. "You must go back home at once, Heimert," he cried. "The major wants the regulations that were in force at the last man[oe]uvres. Look them out, and send them over to the division at once, will you?" "Now, at once?" asked Heimert. "Yes, yes! Make haste and get them!" The sergeant-major hastened back to the barracks. With helmet on head and sword by his side he set off at once on the quest. He gave Käppchen the regulations to carry over to the orderly-room of the division, and he himself returned home. In the bedroom he found Albina and the barber together.