One of the upper window-panes was shivered to atoms. But no sign of a living person was to be seen. Only the balcony door, which a minute or two had been shut, stood open, showing blackness within as it swung to. "A near shave, by Jove!" said Walter, and stooped to pick up the mysterious weapon, the splintered panes of glass crashing beneath his feet. "The pea-shooter!" faltered Lilly. Yes, it was the pea-shooter that a quarter of an hour ago had stood on her balcony. "It's a good job he hadn't his gun at hand," said Walter, "or we should be riddled now like sieves." He wiped the anxious sweat that beaded his brow away with the back of his hand. For all that he was a plucky little chap, and knew exactly what to do. He sprang to the wardrobe under which the foxy dog roosted, got out his military revolver, drew back the trigger, and tested the barrels. Then he said: "Now, oblige me by going into Leichtweg's room. Bolt yourself in. He's simply gone to load, and then he'll be here." But Lilly wouldn't. Her anger against him had completely evaporated. "Let me stay with you. Please let me stay." "It won't do, child," he said, wrinkling his forehead into the old masterful folds. "What is to follow now is man's business." "Then I shall stay in the passage, and receive him at your door." He gnawed his moustache. "Well, if you will take it like that, I can't reason with you," he said. "Please be seated." He took the key from the outside of the door, put it in the lock on the inside and cautiously turned it several times. "There's a vast difference between loading and shooting," he said, "the devil only knows." Hereupon he drew out his watch, and listening attentively to every sound outside, he counted: one, one and a half--two minutes. "It looks as if he couldn't find his cartridges," he said; and then, with a commanding air, he added, "Sit down; you will need your legs later." She sank into one corner of the sofa and he took the other. He laid the watch between them on the bumpy seat. Both counted now with their eyes fixed on the minute-hand. "Two and a half--three, three and a half--four, four and a half--five minutes." Nothing was to be heard but the wind whistling through the branches. Then it seemed as if they could hear horses' hoofs in the courtyard and a trotting away on the other side of the gates. "Whom can he be going to fetch?" asked Walter. "It hasn't come to seconds yet." Lilly saw red suns dancing before her eyes. The ceiling of the room began to descend on her. And Walter went on counting: "Seven--eight, eight and a half." Still nothing. "Nine, nine and a half--ten----" Then he suddenly uttered a low whistling sound and seized his revolver. The front door grated on its hinges, steps drew near, but not the threatening thunder of an outraged husband's, bent on revenge; these crept softly, catlike, hesitatingly onwards.