He appeared at dinner the next day, virtuous in his frock-coat and black necktie. He strutted and scraped and bowed, pursed his lips in extravagant respect, and scarcely dared to take the demitasse from her hand. But Miss von Schwertfeger's eyes passed between the two, watching and questioning. Late that Sunday night the following occurred: The colonel had gone off to town, Miss von Schwertfeger had retired to her room, and Lilly sat on the edge of the bed in her nightgown brushing her hair. Suddenly she heard a gentle tapping at the window, as if the autumn wind were blowing a twig against the closed shutter. But the action of the wind is irregular, and this sound kept time--now a little louder, now a little softer--and recurred at even intervals. It frightened her, and she wanted to run down to Miss von Schwertfeger; but she bethought herself in time. She hastily put on her dressing gown, cautiously raised the window, and opened the shutters the least bit. At first she saw nothing. There were no stars in the heavens and the whole of the lodge seemed buried in darkness. Then she thought she saw a staff waving up and down close to the shutter. She opened the shutter an inch wider and recognised--the pea-shooter. Now she knew what was up. She jumped back and drew the bolt. Then threw herself back in bed, where she lay holding her fingers in her ears. But when she withdrew them she again heard that short, regular tapping, which now rose almost to a knocking. The nightwatch, who made the rounds of the court and park once an hour, need only find the ladder leaning against the balcony and all was lost. Her fright deprived her of her senses. Trembling in every limb, she ran into her dressing room, where there was no light, and opened the balcony door about half an inch. Through the crack she whispered into the darkness: "Go away, and never try such a thing again." Then she listened with her ear to the opening. Nothing to be seen or heard. But when she wanted to close the door it would not go shut. She groped along the crack in search of the obstacle, and came upon a round, hollow, wooden something, which an invisible hand had shoved there. The wretched pea-shooter! She moaned and covered her face with her hands, and the next moment was hanging in his arms in a half swoon. After that evening he had her completely in his power--defenceless, without a will of her own, at the mercy of his wishes and whims. It was not happiness. She experienced scarcely a single transport of feeling. That came later, when she had conquered her horror of the monstrous deed, and her fear of discovery had weakened. Nothing occurred to disturb them, and Lilly expanded in a sense of defiant security. Then it was a blissful sailing over awful abysms, a delirium of the senses, a nebulous ecstasy, a delightful writhing under lacerating blows, an ebb and flow of magnanimous scorn of self and blasphemous prayers.