Jena or Sedan? Part 30

Julie was as usual on the sofa, which was pushed close up to the table.

Her sister was sitting doing some needlework.

Rather annoyed at the interruption Ida got up, and fetched bread and b.u.t.ter out of the kitchen. With a large bread-knife she cut two slices, b.u.t.tered them, and carried them off.

The bread and the knife had been left lying close to the edge of the table. The knife swayed a moment on the round crust, then it slipped slowly off the loaf, and fell flat upon the rug in which the invalid was wrapped.

At first Julie let it lie there unnoticed; Ida could take it away when she returned. Suddenly, however, an inspiration, as it were, flashed through her mind. It was fate that this knife should have fallen on her sofa; it was to be the instrument of her revenge! She took it quickly in her blanched hand and examined it. It had a sharp, pointed blade, fit to go through flesh and bone; it seemed to have been freshly sharpened. She felt the edge, and in so doing cut her finger slightly.

A few drops of blood spurted on to the s.h.i.+ning steel, and near them were the marks left by the bread which it had cut. Julie felt as though she could not take her eyes off the blade.

But she heard the outer door close, and swiftly hid the knife under her coverings.

Ida came in, and began to get her own breakfast. She looked about the table.

"Have you the bread-knife, Julie?" she asked. "It was certainly here."

The invalid answered sullenly: "I?--No."

"Didn't you see it lying here, Julie?" Ida asked again. "Just here on the bread?"

"No," replied the invalid, "It wasn't there. I should have seen it if it had been. Perhaps you took it with you to the orderly-room by mistake."

"Perhaps I did," said Ida; and in the afternoon she asked her brother-in-law: "Otto, can you tell me whether I left the bread-knife lying in the orderly-room this morning?"

The sergeant-major answered: "Perhaps so. I'll see." After which nothing more was said about the missing knife.

Julie Heppner felt strangely strong and well as she held the formidable weapon in her hand. Now at last the hour had come in which she would be revenged for years of suffering, and for the acc.u.mulated disgrace of her married life. And she regarded her husband and sister with triumphant glances, as two victims who must fall under her hand without chance of escape.

There was so much to pack up and arrange during the evening that no one thought of giving the invalid her morphia.

"Otto, will you give me the medicine?" she requested at last. "I can prepare it for myself."

The sergeant-major started, and glanced at his sister-in-law, smiling cynically. The devil! In all this silly excitement they might have sacrificed the last night before their long separation, if the very person they were deceiving had not herself come to the rescue.

Ida smiled back at him.

He gave the bottle and a spoon to his wife with a "Mind you don't take too much." But he thought to himself, "Perhaps she will take a little more than is ordered, and so sleep the sounder."

Then he went back to his sister-in-law and the packing.

"There!" said Julie, as she held out the spoon. "I believe I did take just a little more than usual. Ida, will you help me to bed? I begin to feel tired already!"

Just then it struck ten o'clock. The tattoo sounded.

"So late already?" exclaimed the sergeant-major. "I must be off at once with this to the baggage-waggon."

He took up his box and turned to go. In the doorway he paused once more and said, "I shall only just go through the battery and then come back to bed, for I must be up betimes in the morning."

The sick woman lay waiting. She had taken the knife with her into the bedroom hidden under her shawl, and now held it grasped convulsively in her hand.

Close by in the sitting-room her sister was bustling about. The door had remained half open, so that her movements and occupations could be plainly perceived from the bedroom. At last she undressed herself hurriedly, as if forced to hasten.

Through the half opened door she called softly into the dark bedroom, "Julie, are you asleep?"

Then again, louder and more insistently, "Julie, are you asleep?"

She stood listening awhile at the door, and then got into bed. The door was still open and the sick woman heard how restlessly she tossed about.

An hour later the sergeant-major opened the outer door. He took his spurred boots off in the corridor, and slipped cautiously into the bedroom.

Once more came a whispered, "Julie, are you asleep?" and the woman felt as if she could have laughed aloud at the fools who let themselves be thus led by the nose.

Heppner stripped his uniform off rapidly. Then he moved again to the side of her bed and listened--as on that other night.

The invalid lay motionless.

The deceived wife suffered the tortures of the d.a.m.ned; and it seemed to her that her agony must be as eternal as h.e.l.l itself. She clutched so hard at the knife-handle that her nails were driven into her flesh, and she bit her lips until they bled to keep herself from shrieking with frenzy. A thousand times she thought that morning must be breaking; yet still the shameless pair were together.

At last came an end to the horror.

The woman was asleep already when the man left her. She did not reply to the farewell which he whispered to her from the door. Then he lay down, breathing heavily, and in a moment had fallen into a deep sleep.

Julie waited a little while. Then she got up, her husband's snores and heavy breathing drowning the slight noise of her movements. Now she was standing with her bare feet on the boards. She had the knife in her right hand.

Which of the two should she punish first?

She must kill them both, that was certain. But before she died that shameless creature should know the truth. A flood of abusive words, the most obscene and filthy she could conjure up, lay on her tongue. She would shriek them into the ears of her dying victims, would shout for joy, would exult over them! Oh, how she would triumph! After all the shame, after all the sorrow, she would at last remain the conqueror!

She dragged herself along by the bed carefully. With trembling steps she crossed the threshold and went into the sitting-room. The feeble light of breaking day struggled in, just clearly enough to enable her to distinguish things. The room looked dreary, clothing was strewn about, the chairs were out of their places, and the remains of the evening meal were still on the table. A moist heat pervaded this scene of disorder. The suffocating air seemed laden with a sense of the horrible, unnatural crime.

The sick woman staggered. There was a mist before her eyes. But with an effort she pulled herself together and moved towards the bed.

Her sister was asleep, her face hidden by her loosened hair and pressed into the pillow.

Suddenly she stirred, and as she stretched herself slowly the coverlet fell rustling to the ground.

In the dim light her white skin gleamed.

The woman fixed her burning eyes on this beauty. Suddenly a mad smile distorted her lips, and she raised the knife. She would plunge the blade into her sister's adulterous bosom; and thus deal out justice, measure for measure.

But there came a rush of blood to her throat that choked her. She swayed, and grasped at the empty air with clutching fingers. The knife slipped from her relaxing hand and clanged on the floor. The dying woman collapsed with a dull thud.

The sleeping girl turned over lazily.

"Be quiet, Otto!" she murmured.

Suddenly she gave a shriek of horror, rushed into the bedroom, and shook the man, who could hardly be aroused from his sleep.