"There are many things which might make an accident befall a person who was positively determined to go over it at night," said Brandow slowly. "Unless the driver was very careful," added Hinrich Scheel. Again their eyes met. No doubt Hinrich had understood him--this time as usual, no doubt this time as usual, Hinrich knew what he wanted. Brandow drew a long breath. He would fain have seen whether Hinrich would not have said another, a final word; but the latter had turned towards his horses. A loud tumult of voices, shouting at each other in tones of the most violent rage, echoed from the dining-room, and at the same moment Rieke came running out. The pretty maid-servant's round cheeks were deeply flushed, her gray eyes sparkled, and her luxuriant fair hair was not so smooth as it had been at the commencement of the dinner. "What is the matter?" asked Brandow. "They've been quarreling for the last fifteen minutes. I think they will soon come to blows," said Rieke, showing her white teeth in a merry laugh. "We will speak of it again," Brandow called to Hinrich, who was just driving the carriage away, and then drew Rieke into the dark hall. "He has come back again," said he; "see where he goes, and as soon as you notice anything, tell me." "I don't want to be everlastingly running after those two," said Rieke sulkily. "Oh, of course you like it much better to have the gentlemen yonder pinch your cheeks and hug you." "Why not?" said the girl. "You know what I promised last night," whispered Brandow, now throwing his own arm around her slender waist, and putting his lips to her ear. "Promising is one thing, and keeping your word is another," said Rieke, but without making any very strenuous effort to release herself. The noise in the dining-room grew louder. "There, you will be a good child," said Brandow; "and now off with you; I must see what those fellows are doing."