And the two women gossiped on, till the old one got weary of watching, and said to her daughter—
"Leave off work, child, and let us to bed. The night grows late."
The young girl was ill-pleased with the order, for she had not yet given up hopes of Gerard's coming; but she could think of no pretext to keep her mother from her bed. After brief reflection—
"Mother," she said, "wait a little longer; three more flowers and my lace is done."
"Make haste then, dear child, or I shall sleep on my chair."
"I am not yet for bed," cried Franz from his bench. "I must finish this sewing-cushion for the landlady at Peerdeken; she is to fetch it early to-morrow."
"Boy, boy!" said his mother, smiling and shaking her head, "for a certainty you drank more last Sunday at Peerdeken than your pocket could pay for, and now you are working out your debt. Well, well!—good-night; and forget not your prayers before laying your heads to rest."
And with this pious injunction, the good woman got up and entered a small adjacent closet, serving as sleeping chamber for herself and her daughter. She could have been but a few minutes in bed when Gerard knocked at the door, and Franz let him in.
The young man's face was pale and gloomy, but Lina wondered not at this, for seldom had she the happiness of seeing her lover's brow otherwise than care-laden. Slowly approaching her, Gerard took her hand and pressed it sadly and silently to his breast. This was his usual greeting. Of words he was habitually frugal, but his eyes expressed heartfelt gratitude and ardent love.
"Gerard!" cried Lina, "what is wrong? Your hand is cold as ice! Heavens! there is blood upon your throat!"