For, she
thought, why should she make him angry by telling him of the foolish
boy's love troubles, and besides that, it would have been very painful
for her to have to give evidence against her own flesh and blood--and
unfortunately Fred was her sister's son. But she wished with all her
heart that she could have had a few minutes' quiet talk with the culprit
himself, and that was impossible, for she never saw him by any chance.
She was very silent and thoughtful for a few days, and took the entire
charge of watering the flowers into her own hands. It was just as well
that she did so, for soon afterward she found a letter drenched with
rain under the third rose-bush in the second row. This letter was still
more to the point than the last:
Address: "To _Her_, the _only_ woman I adore.
Inscription: "Soul of my existence!!
"We are surrounded by pitfalls; I am aware that our foe watches my every
step. Cowardly _spy_, I _scorn_ you! Have no fear, Beloved, I will
conquer all difficulties. One bold deed will bring our love
_recognition._ At two o'clock tomorrow afternoon, when the _Dragon_ is
asleep that guards my _treasure,_ I shall expect to See your signal with
the pocket-handkerchief. As for myself, I shall then be hidden behind
the manure heap on the bank beside the large ditch, and shall whistle
three times on the crook of my stick to entice you to come to me.
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