She had retreated still farther from him.
"But--but--I was obliged to go," she said, stammering painfully. "There was scarcely anything at all left--and--and the Herr has eaten nothing but salt meat for so long."
The scales fell from his eyes.
"You went, then, to fetch food?"
"Of course, Herr. I have brought veal and fresh eggs and butter--and sausage and lots of things. It's all in the cellar."
"Where did you get it?"
"Oh, I told you, Herr--in Bockeldorf. I know a grocer there, who gets ready a supply of what we want beforehand, and when I knock at nights he lets me in at the back door. Not a living soul besides his wife knows. And he's not very dear. Herr Merckel, down in the village, charges a thaler a pound for meat, and swears at me into the bargain."
"And you have walked six miles there and back to-night, and carried all those heavy parcels?"
Still frightened, she regarded him with surprise.
"I think you know, Herr, that I can do it, for I told you so before."