have watched what the true and steadfast Biberli was saying to Katterle.
There was one little window beside the door, but it was closed, and the
opening was covered with sheepskin. So the moon's curiosity was not
gratified.

Instead of her silver rays, the long entry of the Ortlieb house, with its
lofty ceiling, was illumined only by the light of three lanterns, which
struggled dimly through horn panes. The shining dots in a dark corner of
the spacious corridor were the eyes of a black cat, watching there for
rats and mice.

The spot really possessed many advantages for the secret meeting of two
lovers, for as it ran through the whole width of the house, it had two
doors, one leading to the street, the other into the yard. In the right
wall of the entry there were also two small doors, reached by a flight of
steps. At this hour both closed empty rooms, for the office and the
chamber where Herr Ernst Ortlieb received his business friends had not
been occupied since sunset, and the bathroom and dressing-room adjoining
were used only during the day.

True, some unbidden intruder might have come down the long broad
staircase leading to the upper story. But in that case the lovers had
the best possible hiding-place close at hand, for here large and small
boxes, standing side by side and one above another, formed a protecting
wall; yonder heaps of sacks and long rows of casks afforded room for
concealment behind them. Rolls of goods packed in sacking leaned against
the chests, inviting a fugitive to slip back of them, and surely no one
would suspect the presence of a pair of lovers in the rear of these
mountains of hides and bales wrapped in matting. Still it would scarcely
have been advisable to remain near them; for these packages, which the