“I am certain of that!  If you once become frightened in the water, you will always have a dread of it.”

“My dear, beautiful lake!” sighed Marie, casting backward a sorrowful glance at the glittering expanse of water, at the paradise of her dreams, which the rising wind was curling into wavelets.

“Go at once to bed,” said Ludwig, when he had conducted his charge to the door of her room.  “Cover yourself up well, and if you feel chilly I will make you a cup of camomile tea.”

All children have such a distaste for this herb tea that it was not to be wondered at if Marie declared she did not feel in the least chilly, and that she would go at once to bed.

But she did not sleep well.  She dreamed all night long of the water-monster.  She saw it pursuing her.  The staring fish-eyes rose before her in the darkness.  Then she saw Ludwig with his gun searching for the monster—­saw him shoot at it, but without effect.  The hideous creature leaped merrily away.

More than once she awoke from her restless slumber and called softly: 

“Ludwig, are you there?”

But no one answered the question.  Since her last birthday Ludwig had not occupied the lounge in her room.  Marie had discovered this.  She had placed a rose-leaf on the silken coverlet every evening, and found it still there in the morning.  If any one had slept on the lounge, the rose-leaf would have fallen to the floor.

The following day Ludwig was more silent than usual.  He did not speak once during their drive, and ate hardly anything at meals.

One could easily see how impatiently he waited for evening, when he might go down to the lake and search for the monster—­a sorry object for a fury such as his!  An otter, most likely, or a beaver—­mayhap an abortion of the Dead Sea, which had survived the ages since the days of Sodom!  All the same, it was a living creature, and must become food for fishes.  Marie, however, prayed so fervently that nothing might come of Ludwig’s fury that Heaven heard the prayer.  The weather changed suddenly in the afternoon.  A cold west wind succeeded to the warm August sunshine; clouds of dust arose; then came a heavy downpour of rain.  Ludwig was obliged to forego his intention to row about on the lake in the evening.  He spent the entire evening in his room, leaving Marie to complain to her cats; but they were sleepy, and paid no attention to what she said.

The little maid had no desire to go to bed; she was afraid she might dream again of horrible things.  The heavy rain beat against the windows; thunder rumbled in the distance.

“I should not like to venture out of the house in such weather,” said Marie to her favorite cat, who was dozing on her knee.  “Ugh-h! just think of crossing the lonely court, or going through the dark woods!  Ugh-h! how horrible it must be there now!  And then, to pass the graveyard at the end of the village!  When the lightning flashes, the crosses lift their heads from the darkness—­ugh-h!”