exchanged
between them. But he was a stranger in these parts; he was never called
anything but the Bergamasker, and the other fellows could never forgive
him for having won the prettiest and most courted girl in the whole
village. They never ceased to tease and irritate him, and on this especial
evening at the Rehbock they must have been unusually offensive. Apparently
they were all somewhat excited, for they could afterwards give no clear
account of the affair, but the end was that the Bergamasker came home
fatally wounded, and died the next day. Everything has been different
among us since the Rehbock was built. Our village used to be quiet and
orderly; every one was contented to work all the week and rest on Sunday.
Nobody ever heard of such a thing as noisy drinking and rowdyism. But I
have another errand with you now, doctor. Lene charged me on her death
bed to attend to it. She did not leave any money, but she had an excellent
outfit. She bade me sell her bedstead and her bureau, and bring you the
proceeds, to settle what she owed you. She was very anxious that I should
see to it, for she felt that you had done a great deal for her; and she
spoke of how often you had climbed the hill both by day and night, to
visit her. So, please give me the bill, doctor, so that I may settle it at
once, as I promised her."

"What relatives has the child?" asked the doctor shortly.

"She has none at all in these parts," replied Gertrude. "She has been with
me all through her mother's illness, and now she is mine. Her mother's
family are all gone. She might perhaps be sent to her father's parish in
Bergamaskische, but I shall not do that; she belongs now to us."

"I would not go there," said the child firmly in a low tone, clinging to
Gertrude's dress with both hands.

The doctor opened a big book, tore out a leaf, and drew his pen twice
across the closely written page.

"There," he said, handing the cancelled sheet to Gertrude, "that is all
the bill I shall give you."

"Oh, doctor, may God reward you," said Gertrude. "Go, child, and thank the
doctor, for you owe him a great deal."

The child obeyed after her own fashion. She planted herself before the big
man, looked steadily at him with her great black eyes and said somewhat
hoarsely,

"Thank you." It sounded more like a command than anything else.

The doctor laughed.

"She is rather alarming," he said, "she is evidently not accustomed to say
anything she does not r