Spitehahn at all events was not gone; his life was saved. But the night's treachery had exercised a sorrowful influence on the creature, both body and soul. He had never been beautiful. But now his body was thin, his head swelled, and his shaggy coat bristly. The glass splinters which the skillful doctor had removed from his stomach seemed to have gotten somehow into his hairs, so that they started bristling from his body like a bottle-brush; his curly tail became bare, only at the end did there remain a tuft of hair, like a bent cork-screw with a cork at the end. He no longer wagged his tail; his yelping ceased; night and day he roved about silently; only occasionally a low, significant growl was heard. He came back to life, but all softer feelings were dead in him; he became averse to human beings, and fostered dark suspicions in his soul; all attachment and fidelity ceased; instead of which he evinced a lurking malice and general vindictiveness. Yet Mr. Hummel did not mind this change; the dog was the victim of unheard-of wickedness, which had been intended for the injury of himself, the proprietor of the house; and had he been ten times more hideous and savage to human beings, Mr. Hummel would still have made a pet of him. He stroked him, and did not take it amiss when the dog showed his gratitude by snapping at the fingers of his master. Whilst the flames of just irritation still shot forth from this new firebrand of the family peace, Fritz returned from his vacation. His mother immediately related to him all the events of the last few weeks--the bell-ringing, the dogs, the new hostility. "It was well that you were away. Were the beds at the inns comfortable? They are so careless nowadays of strangers. I hope that in the country, where they rear geese, people show more care. You must talk to your father about this new quarrel, and do what you can to restore peace." Fritz listened silently to his mother's account, and said soothingly: "You know it is not the first time. It will pass over." This news did not contribute to increase the cheerfulness of the Doctor. Sadly he looked from his room on the neighboring house and the windows of his friend. In a short time a new household would be established there; might not then his friendship with the Professor be affected by the disturbances which of old existed between the two houses? He then began to arrange the notes that he had collected on his journey. But today the footprints of the grotto gave him an uncomfortable feeling, and the tales of the wild hunters made him think of Ilse's wise words, "It is all superstition." He put away his papers, seized his hat, and went out, meditating, and not exactly gaily disposed, into the park. When he saw Laura Hummel a few steps before him on the same path, he turned aside, in order not to meet any one from the hostile house.