Joco stood motionless for a while as if turned into stone.

He did not tremble any longer:  the crisis was over.  He had only been frightened as long as he was uncertain whether or not he would be instantly hanged if he were found out.

“In all Bosnia,” he answered gloomily, “there was only one such flower and that I stole.”

Before a man who was willing to share his guilt, he dared acknowledge his crime.  In truth, this man was no better than himself.  He only wore finer clothes.

The Captain became impatient.  “Are you going to give her up, or not?” he asked.  “I do not want to harm you; but I could put you in prison and in chains, and what would become of your sweetheart then?”

Joco answered proudly:  “She would cry her eyes out for me; otherwise she would not have run away from her rich father’s house for my sake.”

Ah! thought the Captain, if it were only that!  By degrees I could win her to me.

But it was not advisable to make a fuss, whether for the sake of his position or because of his wife, who lived in town.

“Joco, I tell you what,” said the Captain, suddenly becoming calm.  “I am going away now for a short time.  I shall be gone about an hour.  By that time everybody will be in bed.  The officers who sup with me, and the innkeeper and his servants, will all be sound asleep.  I give you this time to think it over.  When I come back you will either hold out your hand to be chained or to receive a pile of gold in it.  In the meantime I shall lock you in there, because I know how very apt you are to disappear.”  He went out, and turned the key twice in the lock.  Joco was left alone.

When the hour had expired Captain Winter noisily opened the door.  His eyes sparkled from the strong wine he had taken during supper, as well as from the exquisite expectation which made his blood boil.

Joco stood smiling submissively before him.  “I have thought it over, sir,” he said.  “I will speak with the little Zorka about it.”

Ritter Winter now forgot that he was speaking with a deserter, whom it was his duty to arrest.  He held out his hand joyfully to the Bosnian peasant, and said encouragingly:  “Go speak with her; but make haste.  Go instantly.”

They crept together to the pantry where the girl slept near the chained bears.  Joco opened the door without making a sound, and slipped in.  It seemed to the Captain that he heard whispering inside.  These few moments seemed an eternity to him.  At last the bear-leader reappeared and, nodding to the Captain, said:  “Sir, you are expected.”

Captain Winter had undoubtedly taken too much wine.  He staggered as he entered the pantry, the door of which the bear-leader shut and locked directly he had entered.  He then listened with such an expression on his face as belongs only to a born bandit.  Almost immediately a growling was heard, and directly afterwards some terrible swearing and a fall.  The growling grew stronger and stronger.  At last it ended in a wild roar.  A desperate cry disturbed the stillness of the night:  “Help! help!”