spinning and thinking of
rather unpleasant things. The village clock struck half-past eleven; the
door opened and the court-clerk, Kapp, came in. "Good day, Mrs. Mergel,"
he said. "Can you give me a drink of milk? I'm on my way from M." When
Mrs. Mergel brought what he wished, he asked "Where is Frederick?" She
was just then busy getting a plate out and did not hear the question. He
drank hesitatingly and in short draughts. Then he asked, "Do you know
that last night the 'Blue Smocks' again cleared away a whole tract in
the Mast forest as bare as my hand?"

"Oh, you don't mean it!" she replied indifferently.

"The scoundrels!" continued the clerk. "They ruin everything; if only
they had a little regard at least for the young trees; but they go after
little oaks of the thickness of my arm, too small even to make oars of!
It looks as if loss on the part of other people were just as gratifying
to them as gain on their own part!"

"It's a shame!" said Margaret.

The clerk had finished his milk, but still he did not go. He seemed to
have something on his mind. "Have you heard nothing about Brandes?" he
asked suddenly.

"Nothing; he never enters this house."

"Then you don't know what has happened to him?"

"Why, what?" asked Margaret, agitated.

"He is dead!"

"Dead!" she cried. "What, dead? For God's sake! Why, only this morning
he passed by here, perfectly well, with his gun on his back!"

"He is dead," repeated the clerk, eyeing her sharply, "killed by the
'Blue Smocks.' The body was brought into the village fifteen minutes
ago."

Margaret clasped her hands. "God in Heaven, do not judge him! He did not
know what he was doing!"

"Him!" cried the clerk--"the cursed murderer you mean?"

A heavy groan came from the bedroom. Margaret hurried there and the
clerk followed her. Frederick was sitting upright in bed, with his face
buried in his hands, and moaning like one dying. "Frederick, how do you
feel?" asked his mother.

"How do you feel?" repeated the clerk.

"Oh, my body, my head!" he wailed.

"What's the matter with him?" inquired the clerk.

"Oh, God knows," she replied; "he came home with the cows as early as
four o'clock because he felt sick." "Frederick, Frederick, answer me!
Shall I go for the doctor?"

"No, no," he groaned; "it is only the colic; I'll be better soon." He
lay down again; his face twitched convulsively with pain; then his color
returned. "Go," he said, feebly; "I must sleep; the