When the bandages were all fixed and the doctor had given his further orders, the priest went out with him, and Wally remained alone with Joseph. She sat down on the stool by the bed and rested her arms on her knees. He breathed softly and regularly now, his hand lay close to her on the counterpane--she could have kissed it without moving from her place. But she did not do it, she felt as if now she dared not touch even one of his fingers. If he had lain there dying or dead, then she would have covered him with kisses, as heretofore, when she believed him lost; the dead would have belonged to her--on the living she had no claim! He had died to her in the moment when the doctor had said he would live, and she buried him with anguish as for the dead in her heart, while the message of his resurrection came to her as the message of redemption. So she sat long, motionless by the side of the bed with her eyes fixed on Joseph's beautiful, pale face--suffering to the utmost what a human soul can suffer--but suffering patiently. She neither sighed nor lamented now, nor clenched her fist as formerly, in anger at her own pain; she had in this hour learnt the hardest of all lessons--she had learnt to endure. What sort of right had she, the guilty one, to complain--what better did she deserve? How could she dare still to wish for him, she who had almost been his murderess? How could she dare even to raise her eyes to him? No, she would bewail herself no more. "Thou dear God, let me expiate it as Thou will--no punishment is too great for such as I am--" So she prayed, and bowed her head humbly on her clasped hands. All at once the door was flung open, and with a cry of "Joseph, my own Joseph!" a girl rushed in, past Wally, and threw herself weeping upon Joseph; it was Afra. Wally had started up as if a snake had touched her: for an instant the battle raged within, the last and hardest fight. She grasped herself, as it were, with her own arms, as though to keep herself back from falling upon the girl and tearing her away from the bed--from Joseph. So she stood for a time, while Afra sobbed violently on Joseph's breast; then her arms fell by her side as if paralyzed, and beads of cold sweat stood on her brow. What would she have? Afra was in her rights. "Afra," she said in a low voice, "if thou truly loves Joseph, be still and cease these cries--the doctor says he must have perfect quiet." "Who can be still that has a heart, and sees the lad lie there like that?" lamented Afra, "it's easy for thee to talk, thou doesn't love him as I do. Joseph is all I have--if Joseph dies I am all alone in the world! Oh Joseph, dear Joseph--wake up, look at me--only once--only one word!" and she shook him in her arms. A low groan escaped from Joseph's lips and he murmured a few unintelligible words. Then Wally stepped forward and took Afra gently but firmly by the arm; not a muscle of her pale face moved.