f the room, his eyes
fixed immovably upon the figure of the insensible woman. It was as if
the lightning-bolt that had struck her had grazed him too. Not a limb
did he move, not a muscle stirred in his face; every drop of blood
seemed to have left his veins.

"Felix! For God's sake what ails you? What is it? do you hear me,
Felix?" cried Jansen, grasping his arm and pressing it tight.

Felix made a vain attempt to master himself again. But he could
not withdraw his gaze from the woman, who lay there as if dead.
He merely nodded a few times, as if to give a sign of life, and
heaved a deep sigh. Then he said, bringing out each word separately:
"So--that--is--your wife!"

"Felix!" cried Jansen, in a tone which betrayed a terrible suspicion.
"Felix--speak--no--say nothing--come out--we--we are in the way here--"

"So that--is--his wife!" repeated the other, as if talking to himself.
Suddenly he shook himself with a gesture of horror, broke loose from
his friend, and rushed out of the room with such terrible haste
as to cut off all chance for Jansen to detain him. They heard him,
immediately afterward, plunge down the stairs and fling the door to
behind him.

Jansen hurried to the window and threw it open. "Felix," he shouted
after him--"one word--just a single word!"

No sound came up from below. Only the wet snow drove in through the
open window, upon the head and breast of this sore-burdened man. He did
not notice it. He leaned against the window-sill to support himself,
and stood for perhaps ten minutes deaf and blind to all that went on
around him.

The old singer was trying, with continual moaning and laments, to bring
her insensible daughter back to life. She had produced a little flask
of some strong essence from her traveling-bag, and was bathing the
young woman's colorless cheeks and temples with it. Jansen had turned
his eyes upon the group, but he did so as if he took no notice of what
was being done for the lifeless figure. Not until she had made a slight
movement with her hand, that immediately dropped back again upon the
cushion, did he seem to recollect himself. He stepped away from the
window without closing it.

"Let the cold air come in," he said, in a low voice. "It is the best
way to bring her to herself again. Put some snow on her forehead; she
will open her eyes in a few moments. Tell her, then, that I have left
the house, and--that I shall leave her in peace. Goodnight!"

Her mother raised