Zan (Carrying a table with the Maid).—To the front, farther to the front, so—

Maid.—So the Count is really not coming?

Zan.—I believe not.—But why are you running away?

Maid.—I’m afraid of that—I keep thinking he is standing behind me—uh!

Zan.—The dead monk?

Maid.—Does he walk here?

Zan.—Sometimes.

Maid screams slightly, is about to run.

Zan.—Are you crazy, Tereza? Now for the chairs. (Turns to the right.) They are not here. Why, I placed them right here.

Maid (Frightened).—And they are over there and upside down!

Zan.—Did you do that?

Maid.—I didn’t even have them in my hands.

Zan.—You don’t say so!

Maid.—Don’t you remember, I didn’t leave your side for a single step.

Zan.—And I stood them yonder and now they are—That happened while we were fetching the table—

Maid.—But who, who,—who? would— Perhaps the—oh!

Zan.—The dead monk. But it isn’t midnight yet.

Maid.—Come, let us get away from here I am getting terrified?

Ivan sighs deeply.

Maid.—Did you hear that? (Grasps Zan by the hand.) Come, for mercy’s sake, come! (Pulls Zan after her to the door.)

Zan.—But Tereza, perhaps that was mere imagination. (Stands at the door, looks about.)

Ivan, on the bottom step on the left, stands rigid, silent, with eyes glaring threatingly.

Zan.—O! (Involuntarily crosses himself.) Maid screams