He was old, but he was not deaf, and she could easily make him hear a
cry for help; but she was afraid of Andreas. He kept the hotel garden in
order, and if he found footmarks on the vegetable plots, or if anything
went wrong with the plants, he always laid the blame on Anna; he was as
neat as he was captious, and the girl shrank from letting him see the
plight she was in.
She stooped down and felt for her shoe, and as she recovered it she
nearly fell full length into the bog; the struggle to keep her balance
was fatal; her other foot sank several inches; it seemed to her that she
must soon be sucked down by the horrible black water that spurted up
from the marsh with her struggles.
Without stopping to think, she cried out as loud as she could, "Help me,
Andreas! Help! I am drowning!"
At the cry the top of a straw hat appeared in sight, and its owner came
up-hill--a small man, with twisted legs, in pale clay-coloured trousers,
a black waistcoat, and brown linen shirtsleeves. His wrinkled face
looked hot, and his hat was pushed to the back of his head. He took it
off and wiped his face with his handkerchief while he looked round him.
"Pouf!" He gave a grunt of displeasure. "So you are once more in
mischief, are you? Ah, ah, ah! What, then, will the aunt, that ever to
be respected Fraeulein, say, when she hears of this?"
He called this out as he came leisurely across the strip of meadow that
separated him from Anna.
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