hen again the soft trembling voice: "Won't you be my good boy?"

If the boy did not answer now, then--! The blood surged to his head
as he listened against his will, his fingers twitched, he wanted to
jump up and rush in again and--ah, he must have answered now. It was
probably nothing but a silent nod, but Kate's voice sounded intensely
happy: "There you see, I knew you were my good boy, my darling child,
my--my----"

Hm, it was certainly not necessary for Kate to lavish such endearing
tones on the boy, after he had just been so naughty. And she must have
kissed him, put her arms round him. Her voice had died away in a tender
breath.

Paul Schlieben did not hear anything more now; neither the rustling
of her dress nor any other sound--ah, she was probably whispering to
him now. How she spoiled the scamp.

But now--somebody was weeping softly. Was that Wolf's hard, defiant
voice? Yes, he was actually crying loudly now, and between his sobs he
jerked out pitifully--you could hardly understand what he was saying:
"I had to--to shoot him--he's the policeman, you know."

And now everything was quiet again. The man took up his paper once
more, which he had thrown aside before, and commenced to read. But he
could not fix his attention on it, his thoughts wandered obstinately
again and again to the next room. Had the scamp come to his
senses now? Did he see that he had been naughty? And was not Kate much
too weak? There was nothing to be heard, nothing whatever. But
still--was not that the door that creaked? No, imagination. Everything
was quiet.

After waiting a little longer he went into the next room. It was
indeed very quiet there, for Kate was quite alone. She was sitting at
the window, her hands in her lap, pondering. Her thoughts seemed to be
far away.

"Where's the boy?"

She gave a terrified start, and thrust both hands forward as though
to ward off something.

He saw now that she was pale. The vexation she had had on account of
the child had probably shaken her a good deal--just let him wait until
he got hold of him, he should do twice as many sums to-day as a
punishment.

"Is the boy at his lessons?"

She shook her head and got red. "No."

"No? Why not?" He looked at her in amazement. "Didn't I tell him
that he was to go to his lessons at once?"

"You said so. But I told him to run away. Paul, don't be angry." She
saw that he was about to fly into a passion, and laid her hand on his
arm soothingly