Giulia sank upon a seat. She extinguished the lamp and candles. Sleepless, dreamless, she gazed fixedly through the windows into the night. The moon had set. The grey dawn did her good. Everything faded into uncertainty. A cradle song passed through her mind! How terrible the rising day which gave distinct form again to everything which erected the implacable barriers of life! And on it came with its increasing light, and tinged the tops of the trees. When Beate entered Giulia was still sitting motionlessly in her evening robe in the easy chair. On descending the winding staircase Baluzzi found Kätchen sitting upon the first steps of the subterranean passage beside the dark lantern. Impatient she had certainly become, and had even crept up the stairs. She had listened, but understood nothing, for Baluzzi and Giulia spoke in Italian. In her hand she held something that fluttered and flapped strangely. It was a bat which had whirled around her lantern, and threatened to entangle itself in her hair. When she perceived Baluzzi she started up. "Well, and she?" "She will remain this time," said the Italian. "She has bought herself off." He showed the magnificent diamonds, but they made no impression upon the girl. "Bought herself off?" said she, as she raised the lantern, let the bat fly away, and stared at Baluzzi in idiotic amazement. She scrambled down a few steps through the rubbish in the subterranean passage. Then Kätchen stopped suddenly. "And the marriage will still take place to-morrow?" "Yes, yes!" "Most wonderful!" "Is she not your wife?" "So the legend says, my child!" On they clambered over the rubbish. Bats whirred round the lantern. "To-morrow I must go to the district town," said Baluzzi. "Leave me here, to-morrow. I will dance in the barn with the peasants at the wedding." The Italian gave his consent. They rested themselves in the old watch tower, before commencing the still more toilsome path through the narrow passage to the shore of the lake. "And you could not, would not prevent it. I thought we should drag her with us, perhaps, still in her beautiful clothes, in her satin shoes over the sharp stones, so that the blood would flow over her delicate little feet! Why, you said you would torture her, bind her firmly if she resisted, oh, I had bandages ready that she could not have torn. We should have stowed her away in the boat like a little mass of misery and had she become unruly, I might have struck her with a dripping oar. You said this, and what have you done? Nothing--she will be happy, the proud creature--and he, he!" "Come before dawn breaks," said Baluzzi, urging her to start. "I must think it over," Kätchen muttered to herself. A gust of wind sweeping through the loopholes of the Dantziger, extinguished the lantern. "Follow me," said Kätchen, "I have cat's eyes, and can see in the dark. Here is the passage to the shore. Stoop, you know it is low, but we can feel and grope our way through."