tery, the
leader of the column, the sergeant-major, the trumpeter, and the
corporal in the rear. And then he made them exercise on the table,
advance and retire, form into line, and wheel round; but his chief care
was always to keep the yellow-striped sergeant-major in his right
position.

Soon Wegstetten had no complaint to make of his sergeant-major, but
Heimert still went on playing with his little figures. For these wooden
guns and horsemen he was now the commander of the battery, and he would
not be contented till his miniature troop was brought to as great a
state of perfection as reigned under the captain of the sixth battery.

Albina shook her head over her husband's conduct. The man was ill, of
that she was convinced. She spoke to him once of consulting the doctor,
but Heimert repulsed her roughly.

"Thank God!" he said; "there's nothing the matter with me. I wish
everybody were as healthy as I am!"

After this she left him in peace. In her opinion some insidious disease
was advancing upon him, and sooner or later the trouble would break
out.

Heimert's appetite began to fail at last; he hardly ate any-thing. He
had always been extremely ugly, but people now shrank back at the sight
of his face. His eyes had become sunken, and had acquired an unnatural
brilliancy, while his hideous nose jutted out prominently from the
middle of his ashy countenance.

Albina sighed. What sort of show could one make with a husband like
that? It was fortunate that he kept out of the way so much.

But the time began to hang very heavy on her hands. From sheer ennui
she took to having her hair curled.

The barber who shaved the sergeant-major every morning had already
offered his services, commenting in a most flattering manner on the
magnificent hair which he said she did not show off to the best
advantage.

Albina had hitherto passed him proudly by. She despised barbers. But
now she began to observe him more closely. He appeared to her a polite,
agreeable, young man; he was good-looking too, even elegant. And he was
entertaining. He could tell her the most interesting things about all
sorts of people.

"You see, madam," he used to say, "a barber is one of the family
almost. He sees people in _deshabille_, as it were. And sometimes one
learns all manner of strange things. Of course the honour of the
profession forbids gossiping. But there is no harm in repeating little
trifling occurrences. Don't you think so? It amus