d then
he climbed to the top of a wall and looked intently into the lighted
window below.

Sure enough, there sat Roth, a conspicuous figure in a company of
fellow-drinkers; for in this place he habitually spent his evening
hours, frequently far into the night, drinking and playing at cards.

Then carefully and noiselessly he climbed down and strolled on in the
direction of the barracks. He turned into a rural pathway, lined on
both sides by snow-capped hedges, and then stopped at a certain spot.
He knew that Roth would pass him on his way home.

Schmitz had to wait a long while in the nipping air, but his blood
bounded tumultuously through his veins; for his revenge, longed for
with all his heart, was close at hand.

The keen-edged wind drove particles of snow before it and pricked his
heated face like needle-points. The dead leaves of a tall beech-tree
rustled over him, and he felt like a victor. Patiently, triumphantly,
he waited.

Down below, where the pathway opened into the street, he now and then
saw a dark shape reel past and disappear in the night like a shadow,
the soft snow deadening the footfall. These were jolly roysterers,
returning from their carousal.

From the steeple, some distance away, came the metallic voice of a
bell striking the first hour of the new year, and Schmitz reckoned on
the probability that his foe would soon wend his way homeward.

But in this he deceived himself, for it was close unto two o'clock
when the "Vice" at last turned into the lane. Schmitz could not be
mistaken. His sharp eyes, by this time habituated to the dark, clearly
made out the burly figure. He grasped his cane firmly in his hand, and
his heart hammered in his bosom. Nearer and nearer Roth approached,
now but a few steps away, his face almost completely hidden in the
upturned collar of his cloak; but Schmitz saw the cruel, hard eyes,
now dull and fishy from excessive indulgence in New Year's punch. Roth
was in a good humor, however, whistling to himself and dragging his
sabre at his feet, walking with unsteady gait.

At this moment Schmitz stepped out from beside the hedge, and, his
cane on his shoulder, he planted himself before the other.

Roth was startled, and looked keenly at the man who stopped his
progress. He did not recognize him.

"What is it you want?" He mumbled thickly.

"To settle accounts with you," was the brief answer. At the sound of
the voice Roth visibly paled. For a moment the two sta