appeared at the window, and Magde
held the child aloft in her hands towards him.

And now everything was performed rightly; the last farewell glances were
exchanged, and then Magde and her children disappeared from the old
man's sight.

CHAPTER XV.

GOTTLIEB ON THE WATCH.

The heat of the day had been followed by the pleasant coolness of an
August evening. The hands of the clock pointed to the hour of ten, and
Gottlieb, who had been walking during the entire evening in the
neighborhood of the little red cottage, began to think that his uncle
Fabian had in all comfort reached his home by another road.

"It is so quiet in the cottage," thought he, "that I think they have all
retired."

He glanced stealthily over the lilac hedge towards Magde's window. The
entire valley was bathed in moonlight, and the moonbeams glanced
directly through the window panes of Magde's apartment, with such vivid
brightness that Gottlieb was undecided how to act.

Soon, however, he resolved to convince himself of the true state of
affairs, that he might be prepared if his uncle should arrive.

He gradually made an opening in the hedge and having found his way clear
before him he advanced to the window which, as the weather was warm, was
secured only by a small cord. He glanced through the window, and a
beautiful picture met his gaze. In this chamber, the husband and wife's
little temple, the moonlight was brilliantly reflected from Ragnar's
brightly polished hunting and fishing implements which, neatly arranged,
were hung against the walls.

At the opposite side of the room, a much worn sailor's hat, commonly
called a tarpaulin, was balanced upon the point of a fishing rod, and
beneath this trophy was placed a small side board, the open doors of
which disclosed a number of shelves laden with gilt edged drinking
vessels of white and blue china; a set of rose colored tea-cups, and
several polished silver plated mugs. A few uncommonly excellent
specimens of carving in wood, decorated one of the shelves, and another
shelf contained several articles of jewelry which Magde had received
both before and after she was married. All these little valuables Magde
had gathered together, after she had put the children to bed, in the
hope that she might find some few articles among them that would save
her from disposing of the cow.

But her search, undoubtedly, had proved fruitless, for Magde's ornaments
were made almost entirely of bronz