Before he enters, remember. She watches him too long
when he leaves. Fool!"
The quartet stole along in the darkness, noiselessly and secretly.
The vintner had indeed heard something. He knew not what this noise was,
but it was enough to set his heels to flying. A phase had developed in
his character that defied analysis; suspicion, suspicion of daylight, of
night, of shadows moving by walls, of footsteps behind. Only a little
while ago he had walked free-hearted and careless. This growing habit of
skulking was gall and wormwood. Once in his room, which was directly
over the office of the American consulate, he fell into a chair, inert
and breathless. What a night! What a series of adventures!
"Only a month ago I was a boy. I am a man now, for I know what it is to
suffer. Gretchen, dear Gretchen, I am a black scoundrel! But if I break
your heart I shall break my own along with it. I wonder how much longer
it will last. But for that vintner's notice I should have been lost."
By and by he lighted a candle. The room held a cot, a table, and two
chairs. The vintner's wardrobe consisted of a small pack thrown
carelessly into a corner. Out of the drawer in the table he took
several papers and burned them. The ashes he cast out of the window.
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