The little maid hastily put on her clothes and, opening the fast-locked door, went out into the kitchen.
Peter Zudár was continually tormented by evil dreams. Danger to Elise was the ever-recurring subject of his nightmares. Now he saw her wandering among rocks overhanging dizzy abysses, and would have stretched out his hand to lay hold of her and draw her back, but his hand could not reach her. Now a fierce wolf was pursuing the child, and he would have run after it with a gun, but his legs refused their service, or he forgot where the gun was, or it refused to go off.
Suddenly a shrill scream sounded in his ear.
"Father!"
Up he jumped. That cry had pierced through his heart, through every fibre of his body. It was Elise who was calling.
"Elise! Elise, my child! are you asleep? Were you calling just now?" he inquired softly.
Receiving no answer he turned towards the child's bed, which lay at the foot of his own, and sought for her little head on the pillow with his hand.
She was not there.
The same instant he heard the key of his room-door turning in the lock outside.