From the valley below, she heard the sounds of the vesper bell.
"It must be," said Irma to herself. She drew back the curtains and, looking down into the valley, could see the nuns, clad in their long black gowns, walking across the meadows. Her thoughts went out after them, as she said: "Farewell, Emma!" Then she called her maid and told her to give orders that a horse should be saddled for her, as she wished to ride out. She did not turn her face to the maid. No one should ever look on that brow. The maid helped her on with her riding-habit and riding-hat, the latter ornamented with part of an eagle's wing. Irma started when her hand touched the wing. The king had shot the bird, and had given her the plumes when-- It seemed like a parting, ghostly touch.
She ordered a double veil to be put on her hat, and it was not until she was in perfect disguise, that she set off. She did not look up; she took leave of no one; her eyes were fixed on the ground.
Irma's saddle-horse stood in the courtyard. At her approach, it pawed the ground and snuffed the air. She did not stop to inquire who had brought her horse from the city. She patted its neck and called it by its name: "Pluto." In thought, she was already so far removed from the world that she regarded the beast as a marvel, or as something never before seen. She mounted.
The large dog, a favorite of her father's, was there also, and barked when he saw her. She gave orders to have the dog taken back to the house.
She rode away at an easy pace. She did not look behind her, nor to the right or left. The sun was already behind the tops of the trees. Its broken rays shone through the branches, like so many threads of light, and between the boughs glowed the sky, forming a golden background.
Irma halted and beckoned to Baum, who had been following her, to come nearer. He rode up.
"How much money have you with you?"
"Only a few florins."
"I must have a hundred florins; ride back and get them for me."