"I know too well what they are," he said. "And, Elsè," he said, "why is Master Bürer's house opposite closed?"
"He has lost two children," I said.
"And why are those other windows closed all down the street?" he rejoined.
"The people have left, brother," I said; "but the doctors hope the worst is over now."
"O just God!" he exclaimed, sinking on a chair and covering his face; "I was flying from thee, and I have brought the curse on my people!"
Then, after a minute's pause, before I could think of any words to comfort him, he looked up, and suddenly demanded,—
"Who are dead in this house, Elsè?"
"None, none," I said.
"Who are stricken?" he asked.
"All the children and the father are well," I said, "and the mother."