His wife watched him in silence as he went away with his knife. Out of the house he went and into the night. Through the open door she saw nothing; all was dark; even the Schartzhaus, where all was gay to-night, stood dark for fear of aëroplanes. The old woman waited in silence.
When Herr Schnitzelhaaser returned there was blood on his knife.
“What have you done?” the old woman asked him quite calmly. “I have killed our pig,” he said.
She broke out then, all the more recklessly for the long restraint of the evening; the officer must have heard her.
“We are lost! We are lost!” she cried. “We may not kill our pig. Hunger has made you mad. You have ruined us.”
“I will bear it no longer,” he said. “I have killed our pig.”
“But they will never let us eat it,” she cried. “Oh, you have ruined us!”
“If you did not dare to kill our pig,” he said, “why did you not stop me when you saw me go? You saw me go with the knife?”
“I thought,” she said, “you were going to kill the Kaiser.”