re too many Germans amongst the
settlers. And who would notice him going to the inn on such a snowy
night if he took up his cassock? A few stupid peasants at the most, who
would bend their heads so low when they greeted him as though their
priest were a saint at least. And in the inn he would find human
beings.

The priest no doubt felt that it was not quite the thing for him to sit
in the inn, and that his superiors would have taken umbrage at it. But
had he ever [Pg 56] taken more than he could stand? So far nobody had
ever seen him the worse for drink. He reviewed one colleague after
another in his mind; where was there one who had not behaved like other
men? And why had they sent him to such a remote post? so rural, so
primitive. His scruples were gradually being lulled to sleep in the
snowy winter days, that were not even brightened by a faint gleam of
light--he hardly ever caught a glimpse of a paper, besides papers were
pernicious reading--in that monotonous silence, that was not even
enlivened by the whistle of an engine, for the railway was on the other
side of Gradewitz.

"What are you talking about, gentlemen?" inquired the priest in an
interested voice; and he was soon in the midst of the conversation
about Mrs. Tiralla. He was her father confessor. "A good little woman,
an exceedingly nice little woman," he said in a laudatory tone.

"I had a fearful to-do with Tiralla the other day, your reverence,"
said Kranz of the _gendarmerie_, who was sitting at the end of the
table stroking his fierce-looking, greyish moustache. "I felt quite
sorry for the woman. I had to speak. I didn't think it could be
possible, but I was told of it, and I found out for myself that it was
true--Tiralla lets the day-labourers kill hares for him. It makes no
difference to him whether they're on other people's property or not. I
taxed him with it, and he didn't even deny it, he simply laughed. But
his wife turned as red as fire, she felt so ashamed of him. 'It's a
disgrace!' she cried, and looked at me with eyes full of tears. And
then she gave him a real, good scolding. 'Haven't I told you again and
again that if you want to eat hares, you're to shoot them yourself? If
you don't [Pg 57] do so I'll throw them out of the kitchen next time
you bring them, I swear I will.'"

"Bravo!" they all shouted. "Splendid!" There was only one more thing
she ought to have done and that was soundly to box his ears, the
scoundrel. They were so f