"No!--the only harsh word you have used." "Why harsh?" "Well, shut up in a dark room, you have your thoughts to yourself; and you think, and think, and think again; and you always think of the same thing; and then--then you wake up, and there's an end to your dream." "And how do you know I have not dreamt?--The clothes I got for you fit you well; you look a German. Ah, you make a grimace!" "So, you are going to be married." "In one hour--less five minutes." "Ah! which way am I to go?" "Straight back into the house." "Nonsense!--I should compromise you." "The house is mine; surely I may do as I like with it." "And when may I reach the coast?" "When the night reaches us." "Good!--and--and good-bye!" "Well,--yes,--good-bye, I suppose,--and--and promise me one thing?" "I do promise." "Don't look at him." "Him! Whom?" "My husband--who is coming." "He is so handsome?" "Oh, magnificent! Good-bye! good-bye!" Here he ran back into the dark room, while Bertha, who was a spoilt child, if the truth may be told, pulled moodily at one of the two long, black plaits of hair she wore. And it must be set down, sad as it is, that, seeing Jodoque coming up the road to claim her, accompanied by a sailorly-looking personage, she went in and shut the door with a deal of vigor. The sailorly-looking personage was young, broad-chested, handsome, and had not been in that part of Prussia for some six years. Jodoque, prompted to sudden hospitality, had offered the sailorly personage a seat at his marriage dinner-table, and he, with a great laugh, accepted the invitation. He strolled leisurely on by the side of the bridegroom, until he heard the bride's name, when behold the effect produced! For he started back, and at first showed signs of choking his informant. However, after an awkward stare, he moved on again. They soon came up to the door, and Jodoque was wondering why his bride did not open it wide to him, when a bright, stout little woman, dressed out in her best, came tripping through the garden-gate, through which the two had just passed. This little woman's name was Doome;--nobody knew why she was called Doome, but everybody called her Doome, all over the little town. "Good morning, gentlemen! God preserve you, Jodoque! Good morning, Bertha!"--for here the door opened. As she opened and appeared at the door, the sailor looked hard at her; but she did not start as she returned his look. _He_ thought all women were alike and forgot; but if this broad-chested sailor could have seen his own blue jacket of six years before, perhaps it would have been a good argument to induce him to pardon Bertha's forgetfulness. "Good day, Miss!" said he, and brushed his cap from his head. The same explanation touching the sailor's presence was then given to Bertha that I have given to you,--given as the whole party were welcomed into the plain little house by its very far from plain mistress. "Do you remember faces, Mistress?" said the sailor to Doome.