And without another word he dashed out of the house and down the street at full tilt, in the direction of the police-station, which was close to the post office. He thrust open the door, without announcing himself, and shouted so furiously to the unlucky porter that the latter nearly died of fright. "Where is the jailer? In heaven's name, tell me," thundered Ráby. "He is drinking in there," said the man, pointing to a door. Ráby dashed into the room and found the jailer, seized him by the lappet of his jacket, shook him, and yelled: "You brute, you scoundrel, what have you done with my servant, I want to know?" "Your worship, the judge had her locked up in 'the Hole.'" "Let her out, then, at once, you hound! If you don't, I will slay you on the spot, and willingly pay up the forty gulden fine I shall be mulcted of for killing a peasant. Where is the cell, where are the keys? I tell you, you are to give them to me directly." The frightened official said humbly that he would soon get the keys, but Ráby held him by the scruff of the neck, and dragged him to the door of "the Hole," made him open it, and called out, "Come out directly, Böske!" Directly she appeared he seized the girl by the hand, and led her out of her captivity. And he never let go her hand all the way home, in spite of her wish to withdraw it. "You are a good, honest girl, Böske, who have only been persecuted on my account; there, there, don't cry, they shall pay for this, sure enough!" And he flourished his sword so threateningly, that all who met them were quite scared and hastened to clear out of their path. The gentry had robbed him of his wife, and now the burghers had stolen away his servant; it was truly "adding insult to injury!" "And now just come in," said Ráby, "and tell me all about it." "Oh, but I've no time to," exclaimed Böske, "besides, it's a long story. First of all I must run and look after my cows. I've not seen them for two days. They weren't milked either, and perhaps they are starving." "Oh, it's all right, the postmaster's maid tended them." "Ay, what does Susanne know about it, I should like to know? The dun cow, she won't give a drop of milk if anyone else milks her, and the dappled one, if she knows that a stranger is there instead of me, will kick over both pail and milking-stool. And no one can feed them as I can. Just listen, gracious master, how they begin to low when they hear my voice." And away ran Böske into the cowhouse. Not for anything would she have told her own story till the cows were looked after. They recognised her also directly, and the dun cow licked her red arm affectionately, when she went to tether her, and Böske made them a nice turnip "mash," in a wooden bowl, and fed her favourites. Then she washed the pail clean, and when she had put everything in order, she sat down to her milking, and here Ráby found her. "Now you can tell me, while you are at work, all that has happened," he said kindly.