hich are poisonous and which are not? Good
and bad ones grow side by side; the devil passes his finger over them
during the night, and in the morning they all look alike, you can't see
any difference. You gather, you cook, you eat--oh!" Marianna stretched
out her fingers and rolled her eyes. "Holy Mother. I know how awfully
you suffer. I won't eat mushrooms, I know that." She shuddered.

"Well, you needn't eat any, nobody has asked you to," said the woman,
soothingly, to the girl, who grew more and more vehement. "You hadn't
eaten mushrooms that time you fell ill. Oh, we know all about it," she
said jestingly, shaking her finger at her. But it was no real jest, for
all merriment was wanting, and there was something forced in her laugh
as she added, "Jendrek has let it out; you had drunk too much, and that
was why you were ill."

"Oh, the rogue, the scoundrel," cried Marianna furiously, clenching her
fist. "How can he say so? The liar! I hadn't drunk too much; I had
drunk nothing, I remember it well. It was the day after the [Pg 140]
master had been to Gnesen to fetch the rat poison. I had drunk nothing
that morning but a sip of coffee, a sip of the coffee I was taking to
the master. I can swear to that."

The maid cast an inquisitive, scrutinizing glance at her mistress.
Would she turn red, or pale? Now it was out; what had been the matter
with that coffee? Would she be brazen-faced enough to scold her because
she had drunk some of the master's coffee? Well, then, she would just
give her a piece of her mind, she would let her know that there had
been poison in it.

Mrs. Tiralla, however, took no notice of what had been said.

Marianna kept her eyes fixed on her mistress. Who could say what the
Pani was thinking of now? But no deeper colour came into Mrs. Tiralla's
face. The maid felt quite bewildered. What! the Pani remained so calm,
she neither looked terrified nor changed colour? Why, she was even
smiling like an angel from heaven. She would have to get to the bottom
of this. So she quickly said in a bold, resolute voice:

"I had only drunk some of the coffee which the Pani herself had made; I
can't imagine how that could have made me so ill." She shrugged her
shoulders and put on her most stupid and innocent look, whilst her sly
eyes roved about. "The Pani would surely not cook anything bad for the
master."

"No, certainly not," answered Mrs. Tiralla, quite calmly, although her
heart almost stood still with t