lay down round it, the assistants were given a blanket to roll themselves in—it was quite ample for them, for it was decided that one of them should always remain awake and keep the fire going—and soon it was so hot round the stove that the blankets were no longer needed, the lamps were put out, and K. and Frieda happily stretched themselves out to sleep in the warm silence.
K. was awakened during the night by some noise or other, and in his first vague sleepy state felt for Frieda; he found that, instead of Frieda, one of the assistants was lying beside him. Probably because of the exacerbation which being suddenly awakened is sufficient in itself to cause, this gave him the greatest fright that he had ever had since he first came to the village. With a cry he sat up, and not knowing what he was doing gave the assistant such a buffet that he began to cry. However the whole thing was cleared up in a moment. Frieda had been awakened—at least so it had seemed to her—by some huge animal, a cat probably, which had sprung on to her breast and then leapt away again. She had got up and was searching the whole room for the beast with a candle. One of the assistants had seized the opportunity to enjoy the sack of straw for a little, an attempt which he was now bitterly repenting. Frieda could find nothing, however; perhaps it had only been a delusion, she went back to K. and on the way she stroked the crouching and whimpering assistant over the hair to comfort him, as if she had forgotten the evening’s conversation. K. said nothing, but he asked the assistant to stop putting wood on the fire, for owing to almost all the heat having been squandered the room was already too hot.