; but it must be soon. In two
days the regiment would be off to the autumn man[oe]uvres, and by that
time her vengeance must be consummated; she felt her strength would not
last much longer.

On the following morning there was much work and bustle going forward
in the battery, as early the next day they were to start for the
man[oe]uvres. The sergeant-major had barely time to throw together the
few things that he intended to take with him.

"Ida," he shouted through the door, "cut some bread and butter for my
breakfast, and send it over to me in the orderly-room."

Julie was as usual on the sofa, which was pushed close up to the table.
Her sister was sitting doing some needlework.

Rather annoyed at the interruption Ida got up, and fetched bread and
butter out of the kitchen. With a large bread-knife she cut two slices,
buttered them, and carried them off.

The bread and the knife had been left lying close to the edge of the
table. The knife swayed a moment on the round crust, then it slipped
slowly off the loaf, and fell flat upon the rug in which the invalid
was wrapped.

At first Julie let it lie there unnoticed; Ida could take it away when
she returned. Suddenly, however, an inspiration, as it were, flashed
through her mind. It was fate that this knife should have fallen on her
sofa; it was to be the instrument of her revenge! She took it quickly
in her blanched hand and examined it. It had a sharp, pointed blade,
fit to go through flesh and bone; it seemed to have been freshly
sharpened. She felt the edge, and in so doing cut her finger slightly.
A few drops of blood spurted on to the shining steel, and near them
were the marks left by the bread which it had cut. Julie felt as though
she could not take her eyes off the blade.

But she heard the outer door close, and swiftly hid the knife under her
coverings.

Ida came in, and began to get her own breakfast. She looked about the
table.

"Have you the bread-knife, Julie?" she asked. "It was certainly here."

The invalid answered sullenly: "I?--No."

"Didn't you see it lying here, Julie?" Ida asked again. "Just here on
the bread?"

"No," replied the invalid, "It wasn't there. I should have seen it if
it had been. Perhaps you took it with you to the orderly-room by
mistake."

"Perhaps I did," said Ida; and in the afternoon she asked her
brother-in-law: "Otto, can you tell me whether I left the bread-knife
lying in the orderly-room this morning?"

Th