t
log-cabin, whose nicely-plastered walls and the regular fence inclosing
it testified to the thrift and good taste of the owner. He knocked; all
was still. Again, and thirsty as he was, he was on the point of
leaving, when he heard a step within. He waited; the door opened, and
before him stood----Katrine!

She did not know him; but he had not forgotten that voluptuous figure
nor those melting blue eyes. He preferred his requests, looking through
the doorway at the same time to make sure that she had no protector.
Katrine brought the stranger a gourd of water, and offered him a chair.
She did not see the baleful eyes he threw after her as she went about
her household duties. Stolzen had dropped from her firmament like a
fallen and forgotten star. Secure in her unsuspecting innocence, she
chirruped to her baby and resumed her sewing.

That evening, when Carl Proch returned from his field, after his usual
hard day's labor, he found his wife on the floor, sobbing, speechless,
and the child, unnoticed, crying in his cradle. His dog sat by the
hearth with a look of almost intelligent sympathy, and whined as his
master entered the room. He raised Katrine and held her in his arms
like a child, covered her face with kisses, and implored her to speak.
She seemed to be in a fearful dream, and shrunk from some imagined
danger in the extremest terror. Gradually her sobs became less
frequent, her tremors ceased, and she smiled upon the manly face that
met hers, as though she had only suffered from an imaginary fright. But
when she felt her hair floating upon her shoulders, saw the almost
speaking face of the dog, Bruno, and became conscious of the cries of
the neglected child, the wave of agony swept over her again, and she
could utter only broken ejaculations. As word after word came from her
lips, the unhappy husband's flesh tingled; his hair stiffened with
horror; every nerve seemed to be strung with a new and maddening
tension. There was for him no such thing as fatigue, no distance, no
danger,--no law, no hereafter, no God. All thought and feeling were
drowned in one wild desire for vengeance,--vengeance swift, terrible,
and final.

He first caressed the dog as though he had been a brother; he put his
arms about the shaggy neck, and shook each faithful paw; he made his
wife caress him also. "God be praised, dear Katrine, for your
protector, the dog!" said he. "Come, now, Bruno!"

Katrine saw him depart with his dog and gu