"Go," he said, "and cook me something for supper; I am hungry and exhausted after a long ride." He remembered his horse for the first time, and wondered where it had galloped to. Then the next instant he forgot it again. "And make yourself neat," he continued. "I should like you to look your best when you come to table." "Yes, _Herr_--I'll try." They separated in the vestibule. He went into the sitting-room, and she to her kitchen. He threw himself with a deep sigh on the sofa, that creaked beneath his weight. Everything seemed the same as on the night he had left it, except that the curtain had been taken away from the corner by the stove, and the couch removed; the portrait of his grandmother, too, had disappeared. The shot which grazed Regina's neck had proved its final destruction, and reduced it to ribbons. One of the windows was open. The strange perfume of fermenting earth, which to-day he could not get out of his nostrils, flooded the apartment. But here it might possibly come from a lime heap, which had been shovelled up at the gable end of the house. From minute to minute his unrest increased. Why shorten for him and her the all too scanty time? He could tolerate solitude no longer, and got up with the intention of going into the kitchen, but when on the threshold he saw her cowering on the hearth with naked shoulders, mending her jacket by the firelight,--he retreated, shocked. But in a few seconds she came herself to open the door to him, fully dressed. "Is there anything I can do for you, _Herr_?" she asked respectfully. "Show me where you have repaired the roof," he replied, not being able to think of anything else to say. He praised her work, without looking at it. Then he took up a position on the hearth and stared at the tongues of flame in the grate. By this time it was nearly dark, and the firelight flickered on the rush walls. "I'll help you to cook," he said. "Ah, _Herr_! You are laughing at me," she answered. But her face lighted up with pleasure. "What am I to have for supper?" "There isn't much in the house, _Herr_. Eggs and fried ham--a fresh salad--and that's all." "I shall thank God if I----" he stopped abruptly. He had nearly betrayed the secret of which as yet she had no suspicion, and she should not, must not, suspect anything. Till the dawn of to-morrow her felicity should last. "Very well, make haste," he laughed, while his throat contracted in anxious suspense, "else I shall expire of hunger." "The water must boil first, _Herr_." "All right, we'll wait, then." He squatted on one of the wooden boxes. "And, Regina," he went on, "come here; do you know I am not satisfied with your appearance even now? Your hair----" "I've not had time to comb it yet, _Herr_." "Comb it now at once, then." She flashed at him a look of shy entreaty. "While you are here, _Herr_?" she asked hesitatingly. "Why not? Have you become prudish all in a minute?" "It wasn't that----" "Then don't stand on ceremony."