"No, thank Heaven. G.o.d forbid! The shingle-maker from Knuslingen, Franzl's brother, reported him as having been with Franzl, and she lives almost two leagues beyond the place where his hat was picked up."

Annele breathed more freely. "Why did you frighten me so?" she asked again.

"Frighten you? Can you still be frightened?"

Faller told how Lenz had been everywhere, trying to borrow money to pay the security on his house, and added that that need burden him no longer, as Don Bastian had just advanced the required amount.

Annele drew herself up as he spoke. The old spirit of wrath and bitterness rose again within her, mightier, more vengeful than ever. He has deceived you, he has lied to you, her every feature said. He lives, he must live to atone for it. He told you he had withdrawn his security. Come home, you liar, you hypocrite! Annele went into her chamber, and Faller was obliged to depart without seeing her again.

Gone was all sorrow, all contrition, all love. Lenz had deceived her, had told her a lie, and he should pay for it. Just like these good-natured milksops who, because they cannot stand up like men for their own rights, must be handled like a soft-sh.e.l.led egg! Let me alone, and I will let you alone; refuse me nothing, and I will refuse you nothing, though you make me a beggar. Come home, you pitiful milksop!

Annele put no food on the fire, to be ready for her husband's return. A very different kind of cooking was going on.

CHAPTER x.x.xII.

A NIGHT OF STORMS.

Lenz went up the hill, after parting from the doctor, with a light and happy heart. From one of two sources help must certainly come,--from his uncle or the factory.

He saw the glimmer of a lamp as he approached his house. Thank Heaven, all is waiting for the good news, he said to himself. Poor Annele! you are more to be pitied than I, for you see the bad side of human nature, while I have only to go abroad to find the world full of kindness. I will help to lighten your burden.

Suddenly, like a burning arrow, came the thought: You have been a traitor to-day in your heart,--twice and thrice a traitor. At Katharine's, and again at the doctor's, you entertained the sinful thought that your life might have been different. Where is the honor you pride yourself upon? You have been five years married, and are the father of two children. Good Heavens! this is our wedding day.

He stood still listening to the voice within him: "Annele, dear Annele!

This one day has seen my first and last unfaithfulness. May my parents in heaven refuse to pardon me if I ever give way to such thoughts again! From this time forth we will keep a new wedding day."

In this feeling of self-accusation, and of joy that all things would henceforth be well, Lenz entered his house.

"Where is my wife?" he asked as he saw the two children in the sitting-room with the servant.

"She has just lain down."

"Is she ill?"

"She complained of nothing."

"Annele," he said, going into the sleeping-room; "I am come to wish you good evening and good morning; I forgot it early to-day. I have good news, too, for you and for me. Please G.o.d, all things shall go well with us from this day forward."

"Thank you."

"Is anything the matter? Are you ill?"

"No; I am only tired, tired almost to death. I will be up in a minute."

"No; keep in bed if it does you good. I have news for you."

"I don't want to keep in bed. Go into the sitting-room; I will be out in a minute."

"Let me tell my news first."

"There is time enough for that; it won't spoil in a couple of minutes."

A shadow fell on Lenz's happiness. Without a word he returned to the sitting-room and fondled the children till Annele came out. "Will you have anything to eat?" she asked.

"No. How came my hat here?"

"Faller brought it. I suppose you gave it to Faller to bring to me, did you not?"

"Why should I have done that?" he answered. "The wind blew it off my head."

He told in few words his chance visit to Katharine. Annele was silent.

She kept her charge of falsehood ready to launch at him when occasion offered. She could bide her time.

Lenz sent the maid into the kitchen, and, holding the boy in his lap, gave a full account of his day's experiences, all but of those thoughts of infidelity which had risen in his heart.

"Do you know the only one point of consequence in the whole story?"

"What?"

"The hundred florins and three crown-pieces that Franzl offered you.

The rest is nothing."

"Why nothing?"

"Because your uncle will not help you. Do you see now the mistake you made in letting him off five years ago?"

"And the factory?"

"Who is to be admitted besides yourself?"

"I know of no one yet but Probler, whose ingenious inventions have certainly earned him a place."

"Ha, ha! that is too good; you and Probler! You are capital yokefellows. Did I not always tell you you would come down to his level? But you are more pitiful than he, for he at least has not dragged down a wife and children. Out of my sight, you poor, miserable milksop! Let yourself be yoked to the same team with Probler!" She s.n.a.t.c.hed the child from its father's knee and, turning the torrent of her words upon the terrified boy, continued, pa.s.sionately: "Your father is a pitiful milksop, who needs to have the bottle always held to his lips. Pity his mother is not alive to make his pap for him! Oh, how low have I fallen! But one thing I insist upon, you shall not enter the factory; I will drown myself and my children first. When I am dead you can go and ask the doctor's crooked daughter to leave her weeds and marry you."

Lenz sat motionless, chilled with horror.

"Mention not my mother's name," he cried at last. "Leave her to her eternal rest."

"I have no objection to leaving her. I neither want nor have anything of hers."

"What? Have you no longer that sprig of edelweiss? Tell me, have you not kept it?"

"Stuff and nonsense! of course I have kept it."

"Where? Give it to me!"