hat frightened me
so terribly was that the mice were going to take Nutcracker (who was
the commander-in-chief of the toy army) a prisoner. Then I threw my
shoe in among the mice, and after that I know nothing more that
happened.'

"Dr. Wendelstern gave a significant look at the mother, who said very
gently to Marie:

"'Never mind, dear, keep yourself quiet. The mice are all gone away,
and Nutcracker's in the cupboard, quite safe and sound.'

"Here Marie's father came in, and had a long consultation with Dr.
Wendelstern. Then he felt Marie's pulse, and she heard them talking
about 'wound-fever.' She had to stay in bed, and take medicine, for
some days, although she didn't feel at all ill, except that her arm was
rather stiff and painful. She knew Nutcracker had got safe out of the
battle, and she seemed to remember, as if in a dream, that he had said,
quite distinctly, in a very melancholy tone:

"'Marie! dearest lady! I am most deeply indebted to you. But it is in
your power to do even more for me still.'

"She thought and thought what this could possibly be; but in vain; she
couldn't make it out. She wasn't able to play on account of her arm;
and when she tried to read, or look through the picture-books,
everything wavered before her eyes so strangely that she was obliged to
stop. So that the days seemed very long to her, and she could scarcely
pass the time till evening, when her mother came and sat at her
bedside, telling and reading her all sorts of nice stories. She had
just finished telling her the story of Prince Fakardin, when the door
opened and in came Godpapa Drosselmeier, saying:

"'I've come to see with my own eyes how Marie's getting on.'

"When Marie saw Godpapa Drosselmeier in his little yellow coat, the
scene of the night when Nutcracker lost the battle with the mice came
so vividly back to her that she couldn't help crying out:

"'Oh! Godpapa Drosselmeier, how nasty you were! I saw you quite well
when you were sitting on the clock, covering it all over with your
wings, to prevent it from striking and frightening the mice. I heard
you quite well when you called the mouse-king. Why didn't you help
Nutcracker? Why didn't you help _me_, you nasty godpapa? It's nobody's
fault but yours that I'm lying here with a bad arm.'

"Her mother, in much alarm, asked what she meant. But Drosselmeier
began making extraordinary faces, and said, in a snarling voice, like a
sort of chant in monotone:

"'Pendu