ant-girl who had worked there must have run away, for no one brought up the meals. She dared not go down herself, nor venture near the window, lest there might be some one outside watching for her. The chill air rushed in through the broken window-pane in the morning, and it was even worse when evening again set in. Petra had packed up a small bundle of clothes, and had dressed herself thoroughly that she might be all ready to start. But she must wait the pleasure of the frantic mob, and endure whatever might yet be in store for her.
There they were again! The whistling, the shouting, the shower of stones—worse, far worse than on the previous evening. She crept into her corner, clasped her hands, and prayed and prayed. If only her mother would not go out to them! If they would only not break in! At length they began to sing—it was a lampoon; and although every word cut like a knife, she could not help listening to it. But as soon as she understood that her mother’s name was mixed up in it, and that they were guilty of so shameful an injustice, she rose and rushed forward; she would speak out her mind to this pack of cowards, or cast herself down on them! But a stone, and then another, and then a whole hail-storm of stones were pelted
