little Stefan had the sheep, and he has lost Katte's lambs,--the
beautiful twin lambs! I dare not tell thy father tonight. Dost
hear the poor thing mourn? Do not go afield for thy duty again."

A pang went through the heart of Findelkind, as if a knife had
pierced it. He loved Katte better than almost any other living
thing, and she was bleating under his window childless and alone.
They were such beautiful lambs, too!--lambs that his father had
promised should never be killed, but be reared to swell the
flock.

Findelkind cowered down in his bed, and felt wretched beyond
all wretchedness. He had been brought back; his wallet was empty;
and Katte's lambs were lost. He could not sleep.

His pulses were beating like so many steam-hammers; he felt as
if his body were all one great throbbing heart. His brothers, who
lay in the same chamber with him, were sound asleep; very soon
his father and mother snored also, on the other side of the wall.
Findelkind was alone wide awake, watching the big white moon sail
past his little casement, and hearing Katte bleat.

Where were her poor twin lambs?

The night was bitterly cold, for it was already far on in
autumn; the rivers had swollen and flooded many fields, the snow
for the last week had fallen quite low down on the mountainsides.

Even if still living, the little lambs would die, out on such a
night without the mother or food and shelter of any sort.