ged to go out and look for Peter Saffran. She suspected
where she would find him.

In the depths of the woods at the bottom of a mountain ravine lay a
cottage, or hut, where, at the time of the recruiting, the men and
boys who wanted to avoid the conscription would hide themselves for
weeks, until the officers would have gone on to another place. Not one
betrayed their hiding-place; and here, no doubt, Peter lay concealed.
Evila went blindly through the thicket. The night was dark, the wood
still darker. From the mountain came the growling of the hungry
wolves. The girl trembled with fear, but went her way, nevertheless,
resolved to find her betrothed, although she was sure he would again
beat her. On the path she picked up a stick, and as she went along she
beat the bushes, crying, "Go away, wolf!" But her heart beat wildly
when, with a rustling sound, some beast flew away through the
brushwood. She was getting deeper into the wood, and every moment it
was growing darker; still she kept on her way.

At last through the darkness she saw the glimmer of a light in a
window. This was the hut. Her breath came shorter as she drew near to
the house, from whence came the sound of bagpipes mixed with shouts.
They were very merry inside. She stole softly to the lighted window,
and peeped in. They were dancing. Evila knew the girls who were there;
they were none of her companions; she and her friends crossed the
street when they met these. The piper sat upon the pig-trough, and
when he blew his instrument grunted like so many pigs.

Among the men Evila saw Peter Saffran. He was in high spirits, leaping
so high as he danced that his fist struck the ceiling. He danced with
a girl whose cheeks had two spots of red paint. Peter had both his
arms round her waist; he threw her up and caught her again, kissing
her painted face.

Evila turned away in disgust and hastened back through the woods,
unmindful of the cries of the wolves and the howling of the wind. She
had not even her stick; that she had dropped, and she had no means of
beating the bushes.

* * * * *

That evening Felix Kaulmann came again to Ivan.

"I want to have your last word," he said. "Will you join my
speculation?"

"I don't change my mind so quickly," returned Ivan, coldly. "My answer
is the same as it was this morning--I will not."

"Very well. I have acted in a friendly manner in this matter, and now
I tell you frankly that