"I feel no pain. When you are with me, I am happy, Jenny, Jenny!" When this was transpiring the manager was walking in the stables, foaming with rage. His heart was filled with jealousy. He saw the girl on her knees before Orso; recently this beautiful child had awakened the lower instincts in him, but as yet undeveloped, and now he fancied that she and Orso loved each other, and he felt revengeful, and had a wild desire to punish her--to whip her soundly. This desire he could not resist. Shortly he called to her. She at once left Orso, and in a moment had disappeared in the dark entrance to the stables. Orso stood stupefied, and instead of following her he walked with unsteady steps to a bench, and, seating himself, began to breathe heavily. When the girl entered the stables she could see nothing, as it was much darker there than in the ring. Yet, fearing that she would be suspected of having delayed her coming, she cried out in a faint voice: "I am here, master, I am here." At the same moment the hand of the manager caught hers, and he hoarsely said: "Come!" If he had shown anger or badly scolded her she would have felt less frightened than at this silence with which he led her to the circus wardrobe. She hung back, resisting him, and repeating quickly: "Oh, dear Mr. Hirsch, forgive me! forgive me!" But forcibly he dragged her to the long room where they stored their costumes, and turned the key in the door. Jenny fell down on her knees. With uplifted eyes and folded hands, trembling as a leaf, the tears streaming down her cheeks, she tried to arouse his mercy; in answer to her supplications, he took from the wall a wire whip, and said: "Lie down." With despair she flung herself at his feet, nearly dying from fright. Every nerve of her body quivered; but vainly she pressed her pallid lips to his polished boots. Her alarm and pleading seemed to arouse the demon in him more than ever. Grasping her roughly, he threw her violently on a heap of dresses, and in an instant, after trying to stop the kicking of her feet, he began beating her cruelly. "Orso! Orso!" she shouted. About this moment the door shook on its hinges, rattled, creaked and gave way, and half of it, pushed in with a tremendous force, fell with a crash upon the ground. In this opening stood Orso. The wire whip fell from the hand of the manager, and his face became deadly pale, because Orso looked ferocious. His eyes were bloodshot, his lips covered with foam, his head inclined to one side like a bull's, and his whole body was crouched and gathered, as if ready to spring. "Get out!" cried the manager, trying to hide his fear behind a show of authority. The pent-up dam was already broken. Orso, who was usually as obedient to every motion as a dog, this time did not move, but leaning his head still more to one side, he moved slowly and threateningly toward the "artist of the whip," his iron muscles taut as whipcords. "Help! help!" cried the manager.