" Little Mrs.
Behrens felt as if her heart had stopped beating and her anger waxed
hotter against the boy who had brought her into such a false position.
She was so much ashamed of herself for being where she was, that she
would most assuredly have run away if Braesig had not laughed again, but
as soon as she heard that laugh, she determined to stay and show him
that he was engaged in a much more serious undertaking than he seemed to
imagine.
It was quite true that Braesig had laughed this time, for he saw a second
and then a third black figure following the first down the hill. "Ha,
ha, ha!" he chuckled in his hiding-place in the thorn-bush, "there's
Charles Hawermann too! I declare the whole overseeing force of
Puempelhagen is coming down here to see how the peas are growing in the
dusk of evening. It's as good as a play!" Mrs. Behrens did not see the
others, she only saw her sister's son who was coming rapidly toward her.
He hastened over the bridge, ran along the bank, sprang to her side, and
threw his arms round her neck, exclaiming: "Sweet angel!" "Oh you wicked
little wretch!" cried his aunt trying to seize him in the way Braesig had
desired her, but instead of that she only caught hold of the collar of
his coat. Then she called out as loudly as she could: "The Philistines
be upon thee!" and immediately Braesig the Philistine started to his
feet. Confound it! His foot had gone to sleep! But never mind! He hopped
down the bank as quickly as he could, taking into consideration that one
leg felt as if it had a hundred-and-eighty pound weight attached to the
end of it, but just as he was close upon his prey he tripped over a low
thorn-bush and tumbled right into the foot and a half of water.
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