transport of prisoners of war arrived, and amongst them many women, who
were sold publicly to the highest bidder. The young and beautiful ones
were paid for high, but even the older ones were too dear for me.

"Quite at the last a blind woman was led forward, and a withered-looking
woman who was dumb, as the auctioneer, who generally praised up the
merits of the prisoners, informed the buyers. The blind woman had strong
hands, and was bought by a tavern-keeper, for whom she turns the handmill
to this day; the dumb woman held a child in her arms, and no one could
tell whether she was young or old. She looked as though she already lay
in her coffin, and the little one as though he would go under the grass
before her. And her hair was red, burning red, the very color of Typhon.
Her white pale face looked neither bad nor good, only weary, weary to
death. On her withered white arms blue veins ran like dark cords, her
hands hung feebly down, and in them hung the child. If a wind were to
rise, I thought to myself, it would blow her away, and the little one
with her.

"The auctioneer asked for a bid. All were silent, for the dumb shadow
was of no use for work; she was half-dead, and a burial costs money.

"So passed several minutes. Then the auctioneer stepped up to her, and
gave her a blow with his whip, that she might rouse herself up, and
appear less miserable to the buyers. She shivered like a person in a
fever, pressed the child closer to her, and looked round at every one as
though seeking for help--and me full in the face. What happened now was
a real wonder, for her eyes were bigger than any that I ever saw, and a
demon dwelt in them that had power over me and ruled me to the end, and
that day it bewitched me for the first time.