“What a picture for a painter!” thought Gottlieb.  “Young Lonner is not the most miserable of men, by my faith; but I know one who at some future time will look much prettier in that position!”

The dull sound of a horse’s hoofs, aroused him from his reveries.

“Ah, ha,” thought he as a smile of triumph played upon his lips, “I was right.  We shall now see what is to happen.”

Gottlieb returned to his hiding place in the hedge with noiseless rapidity.  He had not remained long in his somewhat tiresome position, when the sound of the horse’s hoofs ceased, and from the noise which proceeded from the other side of the hedge he concluded that the owner of the horse had dismounted and was securing his animal to a tree.

He soon heard the sound of light footsteps proceeding over the grass, and then he discovered the familiar form of Mr. Fabian approaching the cottage.  After the new comer had assured himself that the door was fastened he advanced to the window near which Gottlieb had been standing a moment before.  Instead of spending time in useless watchfulness he immediately tapped upon the window; but Magde slept so soundly that the noise did not disturb her.

Mr. Fabian flatted his nose against the window pane and suddenly discovered the picture that Gottlieb had so much admired.  Yet it was not an expression of love which passed his lips as he gazed upon her.

“Confound that woman!” he exclaimed, “she drives me mad, and I believe she would look on, if I was parching with thirst in the torments of hell, and not give me a single drop of water.”

He again tapped upon the pane so loudly, that a person less fatigued than Magde would have awakened.  At this moment Mr. Fabian was struck with fear at his own temerity.

“Only think,” thought he, “suppose I should awaken some one else!  What if an account of this should come to my wife’s ear!”—­the thought was terrible, and the guilty husband’s knees trembled violently.  So much did he respect his “dear Ulgenie,” that he felt it even at his present distance from her, and perhaps he would have relinquished all his plans in relation to his beautiful Magde, had he not discovered that the window was fastened only with a small cord.

To break off a small twig from a neighboring bush, and to thrust it through the crevice of the window and remove the cord from the hook, was the work of an instant, and before Gottlieb could fully understand the nature of his uncle’s movements he saw him suddenly disappear through the window.

Of course Magde was now awakened by the noise of Mr. Fabian’s abrupt entrance, and she quickly sprang from the chair.  When she recognized the intruder she was seized with a deathly fear; which was however but of momentary continuance.  With flashing eyes, and haughtily curling lips she advanced towards him with a bearing so threatening that Mr. H——­ retreated in fear.

“Why do you visit me at this hour?” she inquired.