Heimert opened the window and looked out. It had rained during the day, and now all nature seemed to be sprouting and budding. The odour of the young fresh green things was wafted in by a breath of wind, which gently swayed the cotton curtains. Forest and hills were illuminated by the brilliant moonlight; and like a white ribbon the foot-path climbed the steep ascent behind the barracks, till it lost itself in the shadows of a thicket. On the grassy slope stood a group of young birches, their white stems gleaming, and their shimmering leaves--still wet from the rain--shining as though made of silver.
Heimert gazed at it all with no thought for the beauty of the May night. He was glad that the moon shone so brightly, as he would be able to see his man with ease in such a light.
He fetched his revolver, and returning to the window looked across at the notice-board opposite, which threatened trespassers in the barracks or parade-ground with "a fine of sixty marks or five days' imprisonment." The white-lettered notice-board was fixed to the trunk of a beech-tree by a huge nail, and at the head of this nail Heimert took careful aim.
Satisfied, he laid down the pistol and returned to the table. But almost immediately he jumped up again and took a light out into the corridor. Yes, Heppner's revolver was in its usual place on the rack. He took the weapon with him into the kitchen, and sat down once more. Just midnight! The twelve strokes were sounding slowly from the great clock of the barracks.
Heimert still waited. After a little his head sank down on the table, and he fell asleep.
At half-past two Heppner came home. He had had a run of bad luck at the White Horse, had lost over a hundred marks, and that amount was now missing from the battery cash-box. He was quite overcome by this sudden misfortune. As if stunned he groped his way home to the barracks, scarcely seeing where he was going, stumbling at times over his sword, or entangling himself with his spurs.
When he rang at the gate for admittance he was ready to fly into a passion. He thought he had not heard the ringing of the bell, and he began to rage at somebody's carelessness in not having a broken bell mended on the instant. But the corporal on guard opened to him; so the bell was all right, and the sound must have escaped him. He stumbled over the threshold.
The corporal gazed after him in astonishment. Was the sergeant-major asleep or awake? He had staggered past with wide-open, staring eyes, like a sleep-walker. Perhaps he was simply drunk.
In the passage Heimert came to meet him. He looked distraught, as though just awakened out of sleep. He beckoned Heppner into the kitchen. Heppner entered and shut the door behind him. The light blinded him; he blinked stupidly, and thought he saw in the lamp-light two shining revolvers lying on the table.
"You kissed my wife yesterday," said Heimert, in a half whisper. "Isn't that so?"