itive, shiftless Lenz? A kind word rose to
her lips, but did not get spoken.

"That plaguy raven has bitten me," said Lenz, returning with his hand
bleeding. "The fellow is wild with terror at having been swept away by
the force of the avalanche; there is no catching him. A whole pillar of
snow has fallen down the chimney. Hark! that is ten o'clock. People are
coming out of church now. We were buried just as the last bells were
ringing. It was our death-knell."

"I will not die yet; I am so young! And my child! I never knew, I never
imagined that I was going to my death when I condescended to live in
this desert with you clockmakers."

"It is your father's fault," answered Lenz. "My parents were three
times snowed up, so that for two and three days they could not go
outside the house, on account of the depth of snow that lay there; but
they were never buried. Your father disposed of the wood, and had it
cut down over my head. This is his work."

"You have no one but yourself to blame. He wanted to give you the
wood."

"That is true."

"Oh, if I and my child were but out of this place!" cried Annele,
beginning her lamentations afresh.

"And do you care nothing for me?"

Without appearing to hear him she cried again, "O God, why must I die
thus? What have I done?"

"What have you done? yet a little while and God himself will tell you.
My words are spent in vain."

Both were silent; a secret power seemed forcing Annele to speak, but
she could not.

"Good God!" began Lenz; "here we two stand at the gates of death and
with what feelings towards each other! If we should be saved, it would
be only to renew the old pain and torment. My parents were three times
snowed up. My mother always made provision against such an event, and
kept on hand a plentiful supply of salt and oil. Of the first two times
I know nothing, but the last is distinct in my memory to this day.
Dearly as my father and mother loved each other, I never before saw
them kiss. When my father said: 'Mary, we are once more alone in the
world, out of the world'; then for the first time I saw my mother kiss
him. For those three days it was like living in eternity, in paradise.
Morning, noon, and night my father and mother sang together out of the
hymn-book, and every word they spoke was more sweet and holy than
tongue can tell. I remember my mother's saying once: 'Would we might
die at such a moment as this; pass out of this earthly rest into the
ete