ly in the direction of the inn; her
mother's commands seemed to be moving her along, for certainly her own
will had nothing to do with it. Her cheeks were aflame, and her eyes
burned with all the tears which she would not shed, but she herself felt
cold and numb, as she ran on blindly, stupidly, to where she had just
seen a tiny speck of light.

The night was dark but exquisitely calm--perfectly still, yet full of
those mysterious whisperings which come from the bosom of the plain, the
flutter of birds' wings, snug in their night's lodgings amongst the
drooping branches of pollarded willows, the quiver of the plumed heads
of maize, touched by some fairy garment as it brushed by, the call of
the cricket from among the tall sunflowers and the quiver of the
glow-worm on the huge pumpkin leaves.

Elsa knew all these soft whisperings; she was a child of this immense
and majestic plain, and all the furtive little beasts that dwelt within
its maze were bosom friends of hers.

At other times, when her mind and heart had been at peace, she loved
these dark, calm nights, when heavy clouds hid the light of the moon and
sounds grew louder and more distinct as the darkness grew more tense;
neither fluttering of unseen wings nor quiver of stealthy footsteps had
the power to startle her; they were all her friends, these tiny dwellers
of the plain, these midnight marauders of whom townsfolk are always so
afraid.

At first, when she perceived the tiny speck of light on ahead, she
thought that it must be a glow-worm settled on the leaves of the dahlias
outside the school-house, for glow-worms had been over-abundant this
late summer, but soon she saw that the burning speck was moving along,
on ahead in the same direction as she herself was going--on the way to
Ignacz Goldstein's.

Bela had lighted a cigar when he left the barn; nursing his resentment,
he had walked along rapidly toward the inn, his head whirling with
thoughts of the many things which he meant to do in order to be revenged
on Elsa this night.

Of course a long visit to Klara fully entered into those schemes, and
now he paused just at the foot of the verandah steps breathing in the
soft evening air with fully dilated nostrils and lungs, so that his
nerves might regain some semblance of that outward calm which his
dignity demanded.

And thus, standing still, he heard through the silence the patter of
small, high-heeled boots upon the hard road. He guessed at once th