ed out to his dog, "At him, Turenne!
Break his neck for him!"

When they at last succeeded in separating the dogs, Pincher was dead,
and Martella's lamentations were heart-rending. She indulged in
expressions that I would not have expected of her: "It was the only
living thing that belonged to me, and that Ernst had left me. Now I am
all alone in the wide world!"

When I spoke to her, she hastily said, "Forgive me; I am sometimes very
silly."

She could not bear the sight of the dead dog, and begged that he might
be buried in the woods.

In the meantime, Rautenkron was explaining to Wolfgang that his
ambition to become a forester was based on a false ideal; that dealing
in rags was a much prettier occupation. For then one need know nothing
of the people who once wore the rags; but that the forest people were
all cheats, and, if they could, would convert the trees into as great
cheats as they were.

We were still engaged watching the dancers, and it was a great pleasure
to see Wolfgang dance with Clotilde, the Major's daughter. Wolfgang
arranged an American dance, which was so wild that it evidently
originated with the Indians.

The young Alsatian couple also joined in the dance.

Carl had allowed Marie to dance with another one of the village lads,
and stood holding the hand of Martella, whom he had led to the dancing
floor. She said that she did not wish to dance, and that for tenfold
reasons she ought not to, especially as her betrothed was far away. But
all persuaded her. Rothfuss--who, having been aroused by the music, had
gathered himself up again, and was now seated at the table by the side
of Ikwarte--was especially anxious that she should dance.

When Martella began to dance, a great change seemed to come over her.
There was something uncanny in her features and in her eyes.

Nearly all of us left the dancing floor, and Annette requested Martella
to go with us.

"Oh, no," she exclaimed, while her eyes rolled and her lips quivered;
"I have now begun, and I cannot stop so soon. Good-night, my lady."

She remained, and all were filled with admiration of her light
movements and her wonderful _tours de force_.

"Why, you can jump about like a squirrel, and fly like a bird," said
Rothfuss.

"So I can," cried Martella. "Do you know how it is when one of the
cuckoo's brood leaves its nest in which the simple tomtits have fed it?
None of you have ever seen it, but I have. I, too, am one of the
cuckoo's