Oswald and Bruno, who had listened for a moment breathlessly, rushed at full speed towards the place from which the cries came. They reached a place close to the forest, where people had been cutting wood, and here and there cords of wood were piled up in long rows. By the side of a four-horse wagon a man was lying on the ground, who kicked with hands and feet, while another man was bending over him, either to calm or to ill-treat him--they could not distinguish which! As they approached the latter rose--it was the steward, Wrampe--and cried: "Quick, doctor, for God's sake! The fellow is dying before my eyes." The appearance of the man who lay on the ground was indeed fearful in the extreme. His face was distorted, the eyes rigid, so as to show only the white, foam on his lips, his hands closed, the body in spasms; Oswald could hardly recognize the gigantic servant who had excited Bruno's anger by his cruelty towards the horses. Oswald had knelt down by his side; he wiped the foam from his mouth, he loosened his stiff cravat, and tried to make him lie easier. "Is there nothing to put under his head?" he called to the steward, whose red-bearded face, full of helpless anxiety, looked inexpressibly foolish. "Under his head? under his head? here!" and he pulled off his coat and put it as a cushion under the man's head. "Is there no water near by?" asked Oswald again. "Water near by? No; but in the coat pocket is a bottle--there it is--that may be as good--great God!" Oswald washed the sick man's forehead with the brandy; he became more quiet. "How did this happen?" he asked. "Why, I don't know," cried the steward, in a sad voice. "I came riding up here because the fellow was idling too long in the wood, to help him to move faster; there he sits on a stump and does not stir. What are you sitting there for? I say. Why should I not sit here? says he. Are you drunk again? says I, for I saw his eyes were quite watery and his bottle lay empty by his side. Drunk yourself! says he. You infamous rascal! says I. Rascal yourself! says he. Well, doctor, I couldn't stand that, of course. So, down from my horse and a few good licks upon his back was all done in a moment. He, in perfect rage, makes at me--all of a sudden he falls down like an ox, and commences--a, great God, he is at it again. I never saw the like in all my life!" The man had another attack of spasms. Oswald began to fear the worst "Quick, quick!" he said. "Down with the wood from the wagon; we must drive him home slowly. In the mean time somebody must go for the doctor." "Yes, yes; I'll go for the doctor!" cried the steward, glad to escape, and one foot in the stirrup. "You stay here!" commanded Oswald; "how can I lift the man without you? Are you not ashamed, Mr. Wrampe, to be such a coward? Take an example of Bruno!"