rantula, and continue her labor with increased, indeed, with unnatural
zeal. Only once during the entire long afternoon did she get up from her
low, hard, wooden stool, and that was when her fellow servants drove
quickly down the castle yard in comfortable rack wagons drawn by fast
horses. But with a loud laugh, as though in self-derision, she sat down
again, and, although she grew so thirsty in all the heat and dust that
her tongue clove to the roof of her mouth, she did not even drink the
coffee that old Bridget, who on an occasion like this of today used to
take care of the house for the maids, compassionately brought her toward
four or five o'clock.

When night gradually came on she went into the kitchen, without
smoothing back the locks of hair that hung wildly about her face. Making
no answer to Bridget's friendly invitation to remain there and share
with her a tempting dish of baked potatoes, she took a candle out of the
candle box, and holding her hand over it to protect it against the
draught, went back into the flax-room. It was not long before there was
a knock at the window, and when she had opened the door Frederick
entered hastily, dripping with perspiration.

"I must see what is the matter," he said, almost breathless and tearing
open his waist-coat, "they are whispering all kinds of things."

"You see!" answered Anna quickly, then stopped short and arranged her
bodice, which had been pushed somewhat awry.

"Your master is a scoundrel!" blustered Frederick, gnashing his teeth.

"Yes, yes!" said Anna.

"I should like to meet him up there on the cliff," cried Frederick, "oh,
it's abominable!"

"How hot you are," said Anna, gently taking his hand. "Have you been
dancing already?"

"I have been drinking wine, five or six glasses," rejoined Frederick.
"Come, Anna, dress yourself, you shall go with me in spite of every
devil who tries to interfere."

"No, no, no!" said Anna.

"But I say yes," Frederick flared out in a passion, and put his arm
around her waist, "I say yes!"

"Most certainly not!" Anna answered softly, embracing him
affectionately.

KRIEMHILD ACCUSES HAGEN OF THE MURDER OF SIEGFRIED

_From the painting by Schnorr von Carolsfeld_ [Illustration]

"You shall, I wish it," cried Frederick, releasing her.

Anna, without making any answer, took up the flax-comb and looked down
on the ground before her.

"Will you, or will you not?" persisted
Frederick, and stepped right in front o