"Then you have--O, what will become of us!--you have--a demand to make of my husband."

"No, he has a claim on me, and this I will pay back, princ.i.p.al and interest."

"O, the monster! The crocodile! He has been untrue to me."

"Yes, both in heart and desire; but my wife is not one who cries out, or attempts to pull the bell-rope. She commands respect without so much trouble."

"And do I not, also?"

"I do not know what you would do, if you should see a man, at this time of night, crawl through your window, and attempt to bring you to disgrace by the promise that he would release an old father from prison; but I do know you have nothing to fear at present."

"You are then Mr. Ragnar Lonner?"

"I am."

"And for such a miserable reward--that woman--"

"What! Miserable reward!--that woman!--Well, that night lamp is not very brilliant, but I can easily perceive that I have before me an old dutch galleon, so badly rigged and managed, that I would prefer to crowd sail and make my escape rather than to take her in tow. And you call my wife that woman! Miserable reward!"

"I do not understand your gibberish, my good man: but that you are unrefined and uneducated I can easily see, and I command you to quit my room immediately."

"You would then force me to retreat, as my Magde drove back your husband. Please try the experiment."

"Monster! Unfeeling wretch!" exclaimed she, "is this the manner to speak to a lady, to an injured wife who is obliged to bemoan the infidelity of her husband. O, the villain! I will overpower him with my wrath!"

"My turn comes first," interrupted Ragnar.

"Ah, ha, I understand. My cup is filled to the brim--blood must flow--Lonner do you wish to kill my husband, then?"

"To fight with him. G.o.d forbid. Such things I leave to people of rank. I have another method of doing my business."

"And what is that?"

"O, it is very simple. I thought that nothing would be more unpleasant to him than to be placed in a disgraceful position before his wife, and perhaps a greater punishment for such a miserable man could not be devised than to--but no matter, your husband knows why he leaves his house every day."

Mrs. Ulrica clapped her hands together violently. Now the riddle was solved. She now knew the cause of the sudden change in her husband's conduct.

"And, as it has been impossible to find him at home in the daytime,"

continued Ragnar, "I have come this evening to settle with him in this place, and at this hour."

Ragnar had scarcely ceased speaking, when heavy and slow footsteps were heard ascending the stairs.

Like an infuriated tigress waiting for her prey, Mrs. Ulrica, enveloped in her crimson shawl, sat up in her bed; her eyes flashing with rage, and her face flushed to a redness which outvied the crimson of her shawl. She was awaiting the approach of her husband.

Ragnar arose, and as silent and unmoved as a statue awaited the entrance of Mr. Fabian. Ragnar had not produced a dagger or sword; but he drew forth from under his loose jacket a cow-hide of the greatest elasticity, and the best quality.

Without dreaming of the terrible storm that had gathered, and was about to pour down upon his devoted head, Mr. Fabian entered the apartment.

But the moment his eyes fell upon the forms of his wife, the doom p.r.o.nouncer, and Lonner the genius of revenge, he staggered back towards the door, and had not his legs refused their office he would have sought safety in flight; but at two stern glances, one from Lonner, the other from his wife, he sank powerless to the floor.

And yet, if ever, this was the time for him to a.s.sume the character of Brutus. And what better cause had he to arouse himself from his stupor, than that Lucretia had received a male visitor in her bed-chamber. True, Mrs. Ulrica had not received an insult, neither did she appear prepared sacrifice herself, like Lucretia, as an atonement for the outrage. All in all, present appearances were well calculated to arouse sterner sentiments within Mr. Fabian's heart; but he was so frightened that he would have forgiven everything if he could have a.s.sured himself that the horrible spectacle was but a dream which would vanish at the coming of the morning.

"Perjured traitor!" screamed Mrs. Ulrica, "you hide yourself like Adam after his fall. But come forth, this Lucifer will teach you that you no longer dwell in paradise."

"Mr. Lonner," stammered Mr. Fabian, "I am an innocent, unhappy man, and I swear to you that Mrs. Magde has never--"

As he heard these words Ragnar trembled violently.

"Silence, reprobate," said he, "the name of my virtuous wife shall not pa.s.s your lips. She needs none of your recommendations; but _your_ wife, you pitiful coward, she shall learn from me, now, what your true character is."

Thus saying Lonner with one hand seized the unlucky Fabian by the coat-collar, and brandished the horse-whip over his head with the other.

But as Mr. Fabian made no resistance, but wept and begged for mercy in loud and wailing tones, Ragnar released him, and, confused at the singularity of his own sentiments, he glanced towards Mrs. Ulrica, and said:

"He is so cowardly, that it seems almost as bad to whip him, as it would be to beat a hare. In giving him over to you I am fully revenged."

The cow-hide disappeared beneath his coat, and Lonner departed.

But Ragnar Lonner had made a miscalculation, when he thought that Mr.

Fabian would fall into the hands of the Medusa within the bed-curtains.

The very thought of the humiliation he had undergone, and the fear of what was yet in store for him, inspired Mr. Fabian with an unusual degree of courage or rather drove him to desperation.

Brutus aroused himself. He could see no other method of escape than by crushing the tigress before she pounced upon him. He therefore at once attacked her with pa.s.sionate actions and wild expressions.

"O, you miserable woman! You faithless wife! Do you think that I shall allow myself to be blinded by the farce you have just played with your lover? I will leave you alone in your house. I cast you from my heart.

The whole world shall know you as I know you now."

"Fabian! Fabian! are you mad?"

Mistress Ulrica was both frightened and pleased. This was a scene she had long desired.

"If I am mad, who has driven me to madness?" shouted Mr. Fabian, determined to retain the advantage he had already won. Then a.s.suming an imposing position he gazed sternly into the face of his trembling wife.

"How long I have closed my eyes to your little indiscretions! How many bitter tears I have shed, when I observed how you encouraged that shark who made love to my wife while he feasted at my table."

Mistress Ulrica, who was suddenly changed from a tigress into a lamb, a.s.sured her husband that she was innocent; that she had not even entertained a guilty thought. But as she humbled herself, Mr. Fabian's wrath increased, and astonished that he had not long before discovered this method of taming his wife, he played the tyrant _con amore_. He accused his wife of so many things, that she, humiliated and crushed, fell on her knees before him, and entreated him to restrain his rage until he had ample proofs of her guilt. This boon Mr. Fabian H---- finally condescendingly granted, and like an indulgent pascha, entreated by his favorite slave, he at length permitted her to slumber at his side.

This entire change of government was effected in the short s.p.a.ce of one hour.

The sun was high in the heavens when Mistress Ulrica awoke. At first she could not distinctly remember the drama which had been performed the preceding night; but when all the events were brought clear to her mind, she sighed deeply. Her destiny was entirely changed; but after a few moments' reflection, she determined to submit to her fate, and become the one who should obey, not command.

While she was meditating in what manner she should refute the charges brought against her by her husband, she was interrupted by a truly soft and persuasive voice, which said:--

"Sweet Ulgenie, dearest wife, can your heart be touched? I dreamed last night that I might dare approach it."

"Oh, so you have noticed me," said Mrs. Ulrica, immediately a.s.suming her former authority, when she found herself thus entreated. "Have you slept out your debauch?"

"Was I--is it possible that I was inebriated? I have quite forgotten what happened last night."

"You fool, when were you able to remember anything unless _I_ reminded you?"