They stood before the "Reaper," while Justus explained that it had been begun in the spring and intended at first for a pendant to the kneeling "Roman Shepherd Boy" in the Exhibition--a girl, who, in the solitude of her maize field, deep in the Campagna, hears the Ave Maria ring out from the neighbouring convent, and who, laying aside her sickle and her sheaf, folds her hands for a moment in prayer; that the figure was nearly completed, attitude, gesture and expression, all quite admirable, and would have done honour to the greatest sculptors; that the greatest sculptors in Berlin had expressed their admiration; the Milanese Enrico Braga, who had been there on a visit in the summer, was quite overpowered. "And now, gentlemen, I ask you whether it is possible for any woman, even the most gifted, to carry out persistently a clearly defined aim! The statue is almost finished, only a few touches are wanted, but those touches are not given; we are not in the vein, we will wait for a more favourable day. One, two months pass, the day does not come; the clay dries up in the most unfortunate manner, breaks and splits everywhere--we have lost all inclination for the work. I had made up my mind, at the risk of the deepest displeasure, to have the 'Reaper' secretly cast at night before it quite fell to pieces; when about four weeks ago, one fine morning, I entered the studio--the sweet, dreamy face, was changed into a Medusa head, whose terrible eyes, under the hand that had in the meantime been laid on her brow, stared into the distance, apparently expecting some one. I should not like to be that some one. Would you, Captain?" Reinhold nodded to the sculptor; the statue had made exactly the same curiously mingled impression upon him, and he had almost expressed it in the same words. He said, smiling: "No, indeed!" "Put it to the vote!" exclaimed Justus eagerly. "Would you, Herr von Werben?" Ottomar did not answer. The work was begun in the spring; in the spring he had exchanged the first tender love-tokens with Ferdinanda; then had ensued a long, weary interval, during which she had altogether avoided him; and though four weeks ago she had given way to his imploring glances and resumed again their secret understanding, it had acquired in the interval a totally different character; a gloomy, passionate character, from which even he sometimes shrank. Was this the image of her love? Was it he who was here waited for? All this passed through his brain with the speed of lightning, but his fixed glance had betrayed something of what was in his mind. "Why say so much about it?" exclaimed Ferdinanda; "a work that must be put to the vote is not worthy to exist." She had seized the heavy mallet which lay on the table amongst her other tools and swung it towards the statue. Justus caught hold of her arm.