"Joseph, that's the best day's work thou's ever done."
"No one'll have anything to do with her, when this is known."
Thus laughed the chorus of rejected suitors, as they crowded joyfully round Joseph.
The dancing-floor was deserted--only two persons remained with Wally, Vincenz and Benedict. Wally stood still in the same place and did not stir; it was as if she were lifeless.
Vincenz watched her with folded arms. Benedict went up to her and took her gently by the arm. "Wally, don't take it so to heart--we are here, and we'll get satisfaction for thee. Wally--speak. What shall we do? we are all ready, only say what thou'd have us to do."
Then she turned round, her large eyes had a ghostly gleam in them, her face was ghastly pale. She opened and closed her lips once or twice, one word there was she struggled to utter, but it seemed as if the breath to speak it failed her. At last she brought it out, as from the very depths of her being,--more a cry than a word: "DEAD would I have him!"
Benedict drew back. "God forbid, Wally!" he said.
But Vincenz stepped forward with flashing eyes. "Wally, art thou in earnest?"
"Ay, in bloody earnest!" She lifted her hand at the oath, her hand was quite stiff and the nails blue, as in one dead. "He who lays him dead at his Afra's feet--him will I marry, as truly as I am Wallburga Stromminger."