The shameless woman had felt so secure that she had not even troubled to bolt the door. Her gallant lover disappeared through the window like a shot. Albina was not so quick. Heimert seized hold of her and dragged her through the doorway just as she was, clad only in a dressing-jacket and a thin petticoat. The jacket tore in his hands. Then he seized her by her thick hair. She screamed, but he pushed her before him down the passage. A heavy riding-whip was hanging on a nail; as he passed he tore it down, and the leathern thong descended in furious blows on the woman's head, and on her bare shoulders and bosom. She gave a loud yell of pain. The few men who had remained away from the exercises came running, and stared open-mouthed. The whip made deep red marks on the smooth skin, and the shrieks of the woman became more and more piercing. But Heimert drove her down the steps into the barrack-yard. She stumbled, and lost a shoe. No matter! on she must go! If she stopped for a moment the whip lashed round her feet, her ankles, her knees. She cowered, shrieking. With outstretched arms she tried to parry the blows. Her husband pulled her upright; she staggered, but was again dragged along by her hair under the pressure of that remorseless hand. The blood ran from her shoulders, but the blows still rained down like hail. At last, on reaching the back gate the iron grip was loosened. One last furious stroke tore her garments and dyed the white linen red. She stood there for a moment, with bleeding hands pressed to her head, with shut eyes and trembling knees. Suddenly she realised that she was free, and with wild leaps she fled towards the forest. On the slope of the hill she turned. Her bare skin gleamed in the bright sunshine, and her dishevelled hair hung down over her brow. She shook her naked arms with furious gestures towards the sergeant-major, and screamed a hideous curse in his face. Then she disappeared into the wood. Heimert looked after her with a dull expression of countenance, till no trace of her white garments was to be seen among the green bushes. Then he returned home with firm footsteps. Wegstetten gave orders that the sergeant-major should not be disturbed that day. Under such circumstances a man had better be left to himself. But when Heimert did not put in an appearance next morning, Käppchen was sent to look him up. The battery-clerk came back much disturbed, and announced: "Excuse me, sir, I think the sergeant-major's gone mad." "Mad? You are mad yourself, man!" was the captain's reply; and he went in person to the sergeant-major's quarters. Heimert was sitting at the table, his little wooden guns and horsemen before him. With smiling looks he was drilling them, giving the words of command in a soft voice. He did not seem to recognise the commander of his battery, but gazed stupidly at Wegstetten when he spoke to him. "Don't you know me, sergeant-major?" asked the captain.