e dormitory, his companions avoided him as if he had the plague, but
he scarcely noticed it.

The moonlight and the reflection from the snow shone brightly through the
little window, but Ulrich longed for darkness, and buried his face in the
pillows. The clock in the steeple struck ten.

He raised himself and listened to the deep breathing of the sleepers on
his right and left, and the gnawing of a mouse under the bed.

His heart throbbed faster and more anxiously, but suddenly seemed to
stand still, for a low voice had called his name.

"Ulrich!" it whispered again, and the young count, who lay beside him,
rose in bed and bent towards him. Ulrich had told him about the word, and
often indulged in wishes with him, as he had formerly done with Ruth.
Philipp now whispered:

"They are going to attack the doctor. The abbot and magistrate questioned
us, as if it were a matter of life and death. I kept what I know about
the word to myself, for I'm sorry for the Jew, but Xaver, spiteful
fellow, made it appear as if you really possessed the spell, and just now
he came to me and said his father would seize the Jew early to-morrow
morning, and then he would be tortured. Whether they will hang or burn
him is the question. His life is forfeited, his father said--and the
black-visaged rascal rejoiced over it."

"Sileutium, turbatores!" cried the sleepy voice of the monk in charge,
and the boys hastily drew back into the feathers and were silent.

The young count soon fell asleep again, but Ulrich buried his head still
deeper among the pillows; it seemed as if he saw the mild, thoughtful
face of the man, from whom he had received so much affection, gazing
reproachfully at him; then the dumb wife appeared before his mind, and he
fancied her soft hand was lovingly stroking his cheeks as usual. Ruth
also appeared, not in the yellow silk dress, but clad in rags of a
beggar, and she wept, hiding her face in her mother's lap.

He groaned aloud. The clock struck eleven. He rose and listened. Nothing
stirred, and slipping on his clothes, he took his shoes in his hand and
tried to open the window at the head of his bed. It had stood open during
the day, but the frost fastened it firmly to the frame. Ulrich braced his
foot against the wall and pulled with all his strength, but it resisted
one jerk after another; at last it suddenly yielded and flew open, making
a slight creaking and rattling, but the monk on guard did not wake, only
mu