hushed altogether, or were ludicrously inefficient.

"I really believe the poor brute has come to a Christian finish--this
Ahasuerus of steinbocks!" said the duchess.

The transition to silence was so extraordinary and abrupt, that she
called to her chasseur to know the meaning of it. Feckelwitz fetched the
paper and handed it up. It exhibited a cross done in blood under the
word 'Meran,' and bearing that day's date. One glance at it told Laura
what it meant. The bride in the court below was shedding tears:
the bridegroom was lighting his pipe and consoling her; women were
chattering, men shrugging. Some said they had seen an old grey-haired
hag (hexe) stand at the gates and fling down a piece of paper. A little
boy whose imagination was alive with the tale of the steinbock, declared
that her face was awful, and that she had only the, use of one foot. A
man patted him on the shoulder, and gave him a gulp of wine, saying with
his shrewdest air: "One may laugh at the devil once too often, though!"
and that sentiment was echoed; the women suggested in addition the
possibility of the bride Lisa having something on her conscience,
seeing that she had lived in a castle two years and more. The potential
persuasions of Father Bernardus were required to get the bride to go away
to her husband's roof that evening: when she did make her departure, the
superstitious peasantry were not a merry party that followed at her
heels.

At the break-up of the festivities Wilfrid received an intimation that
his sister had arrived in Meran from Bormio. He went down to see her,
and returned at a late hour. The ladies had gone to rest. He wrote a
few underlined words, entreating Vittoria to grant an immediate interview
in the library of the castle. The missive was entrusted to Aennchen.