“Good morning, Amrei!  Art thou here too?”

Amrei started and turned quite pale.  Had she done anything punishable?  Had she gone into the stable with a naked light?  She thought of her past life and could remember nothing; and yet he had addressed her as familiarly as if he had already arrested her once.  With these thoughts flitting through her mind, she stood there trembling as if she were a criminal, and at last answered: 

“Thank you.  But I don’t know why we should call each other ‘thou.’  Do you want anything of me?”

“Oh, how proud you are.  You can answer me properly.  I am not going to eat you up.  Why are you so angry?  Eh?”

“I am not angry, and I don’t want to harm any one.  I am only a foolish girl.”

“Don’t pretend to be so submissive—­”

“How do you know what I am?”

“Because you flourish about so with that light.”

“What?  Where?  Where have I flourished about with a light?  I always take a lantern when I go out to the stable, but—­”

The gendarme laughed and said:  “I mean your brown eyes—­that’s where the light is.  Your eyes are like two balls of fire.”

“Then get out of my way, lest you get burnt.  You might get blown up with all that powder in your cartridge-box.”

“There’s nothing in it,” said the gendarme, embarrassed, but wishing to make some kind of retort.  “But you have scorched me already.”

“I don’t see where—­you seem to be all right.  But enough!  Let me go.”

“I’m not keeping you, you little crib-biter.  You could lead a man a hard life, who was fond of you.”

“Nobody need be fond of me,” said Amrei; and she rushed away as if she had got loose from a chain.

She stood in the doorway where many spectators were crowded together.  A new dance was just beginning, and she swayed back and forth with the music.  The feeling that she had got the better of some one made her more cheerful than ever, and she would have taken up arms against the whole world, as well as against a single gendarme.  But her tormentor soon appeared again; he posted himself behind Amrei and said all kinds of things to her.  She made no answer and pretended not to hear him, every now and then nodding to the people as they danced by, as if she had been greeted by them.  Only when the gendarme said: 

“If I were allowed to marry, I’d take you.”

She replied: 

“Take me, indeed!  But I shouldn’t give myself!”

The gendarme was glad to have at least got an answer from her, and continued: 

“And if I were allowed to dance, I would have one with you right now.”

“I cannot dance,” replied Amrei.

Just then the music ceased.  Amrei pushed against the people in front of her, and made her way in to seek some retired corner.  She heard some one behind her say: 

“Why, she can dance better than anybody in this part of the country!”