THE RAT-WIFE. [Closing the bag.] Oh, it will come--it will come, right enough. EYOLF. [Involuntarily drawing nearer, at last goes right up to her, and strokes the bag.] But he is lovely--lovely all the same. THE RAT-WIFE. [In a tone of caution.] But now he is so tired and weary, poor thing. He's utterly tired out, he is. [Looks at ALLMERS.] For it takes the strength out of you, that sort of game, I can tell you, sir. ALLMERS. What sort of game do you mean? THE RAT-WIFE. The luring game. ALLMERS. Do you mean that it is the dog that lures the rats? THE RAT-WIFE. [Nodding.] Mopseman and I--we two do it together. And it goes so smoothly--for all you can see, at any rate. I just slip a string through his collar, and then I lead him three times round the house, and play on my Pan's-pipes. When they hear that, they have got to come up from the cellars, and down from the garrets, and out of flour boles, all the blessed little creatures. EYOLF. And does he bite them to death then? THE RAT-WIFE. Oh, not at all! No, we go down to the boat, he and I do--and then they follow after us, both the big ones and the little ratikins. EYOLF. [Eagerly.] And what then--tell me! THE RAT-WIFE. Then we push out from the land, and I scull with one oar, and play on my Pan's-pipes. And Mopseman, he swims behind. [With glittering eyes.] And all the creepers and crawlers, they follow and follow us out into the deep, deep waters. Ay, for they have to. EYOLF. Why do they have to? THE RAT-WIFE. Just because they want not to--just because they are so deadly afraid of the water. That is why they have got to plunge into it. EYOLF. Are they drowned, then? THE RAT-WIFE. Every blessed one. [More softly.] And there it is all as still, and soft, and dark as their hearts can desire, the lovely little things. Down there they sleep a long, sweet sleep, with no one to hate them or persecute them any more. [Rises.] In the old days, I can tell you, I didn't need any Mopseman. Then I did the