howled in the chimney and
whirled the snow about the gutters. I was dreaming of Annette; the
silence was complete. Suddenly Wilfred exclaimed, throwing off his
jacket: "It is time for sleep. Put another stick on the fire and we will go
to bed!" "We can't do better than that," I replied. So saying, I drew off
my boots, and a moment later we stretched out on the straw with the
coverlid tucked under our chins and a log under our heads for a pillow.
Wilfred lost no time in getting to sleep. The light from the stove
flickered and trembled; the wind redoubled its force outside, and as I
lay thus with a sense of perfect contentment, I, too, dozed off. At about
two o'clock in the morning I was awakened by a strange noise. I
thought at first that it was a cat running along the gutter, but, putting
my ear to the wall, my uncertainty was at once dispelled; somebody
was walking on the roof. I nudged Wilfred. "Sh!" he whispered,
pressing my hand; he had heard it, too. The firelight was casting its last
shadows on the decrepit walls. I was considering whether I would get
up or not, when the little window, held only by a bit of brick, slowly
opened. A pale face with shining eyes, red hair, and quivering cheeks
appeared in the opening and gazed into the interior of the chamber. Our
fear was so great that we hadn't strength left to cry out. At length the
man glided through the sash and let himself down into the loft without
a sound. The man, short and thick-set, the muscles of his face
contracted like a tiger about to spring, was none other than the
ingenuous person who had volunteered his advice on the road to
Heidelberg. But how different he seemed to us now! In spite of the
bitter cold, he was in his shirt sleeves, dressed only in a pair of
breeches, woolen stockings, and silver buckled shoes. A long,
blood-stained knife glittered in his hand.
Wilfred and I thought our last hour had surely come. But he did not
appear to see us in the oblique shadow of the loft, notwithstanding that
the fire started up again in the cold draft from the open window. He
squatted down on a chair and began to shiver in a strange manner.
Suddenly he fixed his yellowish-green eyes upon me; his nostrils
dilated and he watched me for a full minute, while the blood froze in
my veins. Then turning toward the stove, he gave a hoarse cough, like
the purring of a cat, without moving a muscle of his face. He drew a
large watch from his breeches pocket, made a gesture as if looking at
the time, and either inadvertently or purposely laid it on the table. This
done, he rose as if undecided, looked doubtfully at the window,
hesitated, and finally disappeared through the door, leaving it wide
open behind him. I sprang up to turn the lock; already the man's
footsteps creaked on the staircase two floors below. An irresistible
curiosity asserted itself over my fear, and hearing a window open,
which looked upon the court, I approached the sash of the little winding
staircase on the same side of the house. The courtyard, from where I
stood, lay at a dizzy depth, and a wall from fifty to sixty feet high
divided it. On the right of the wall was the yard of a pork butcher; on
the left, the inn yard of the Pied de Mouton. The top of this wall, which
was overgrown with damp mosses and that sort of vegetation that
thrives in dark places, extended in a straight line from the window,
which the man had just opened, to the roof of a large, sombre-looking
dwelling, built in the rear of the Bergstrasse. I took all this in at a
glance while the moon shone between the heavy, snow-laden clouds,
and I shuddered as I saw the man flee along the wall, his head bent
forward and the knife still in his hand, while the wind howled
lugubriously around him. He reached the opposite roof and disappeared.
I thought I must be dreaming. For some moments I stood there,
open-mouthed with wonder, my breast bare, and hair tossed about,
drenched by the sleet that fell from the roof. At length recovering from
my bewilderment, I returned to the loft and found Wilfred, who looked
at me with a haggard expression and was mumbling a prayer. I
hastened to bolt the door, dress myself, and replenish the fire.
"Well," said my comrade, sitting up. "Well," I rejoined, "we have
escaped this time, but if that fellow didn't see us, it was only because
our time has not
![](qr/18182/3.png)
Continue reading on your phone by scaning this QR Code
Tip: The current page has been bookmarked automatically. If you wish to continue reading later, just open the
Dertz Homepage, and click on the 'continue reading' link at the bottom of the page.