The only bed unoccupied was the one in the little room next to the
stairs leading to the garret, which was occupied by Katterle. The Swiss,
kneeling before it with her face buried in the coarse linen pillow case,
alternately sobbed, prayed, and cursed herself and her recklessness.

When the gale, which preceded the thunderstorm, blew leaves and straws
in through the open window she started violently, imagining that Herr
Ortlieb had come to call her to account and her trial was to begin. The
barber's widow, whom she had seen a few days before in the pillory, with
a stone around her neck, because she had allowed a cloth weaver's
heedless daughter to come to her lodging with a handsome trumpeter who
belonged to the city musicians, rose before her mental vision. How the
poor thing had trembled and moaned after the executioner's assistant hung
the heavy stone around her neck! Then, driven frantic by the jeers and
insults of the people, the missiles flung by the street boys, and the
unbearable burden, she could control herself no longer but, pouring forth
a flood of curses, thrust out her tongue at her tormentors.

What a spectacle! But ere she, Katterle, would submit to such disgrace
she would bid farewell to life with all its joys; and even to the
countryman to whom her heart clung, and who, spite of his well-proven
truth and steadfastness, had brought misery upon her.

Now the memory of the hateful word which she, too, had called to the
barber's widow weighed heavily on her heart. Never, never again would
she be arrogant to a neighbour who had fallen into misfortune.

This vow, and many others, she made to St. Clare; then her thoughts
wandered to the city moat, to the Pegnitz, the Fischbach, and all the
other streams in and near Nuremberg, where it was possible to drown and