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gone to bed； but as the voices were seemingly in quiet
conversation； her alarm subsided； and she concluded that instead of
having gone to bed her mistress was still up。 In her pain she
heard the door gently open； and then she heard footsteps in the
garden。 This surprised her very much。 She couldn't think what the
young master could want going out at that hour。 She became
terrified without knowing exactly at what。 Fear quite drove away
the toothache； which had not since returned。 After lying there
quaking for some time； again she heard footsteps in the garden； the
door opened and closed gently； voices were heard； and she at last
distinctly heard her mistress say； 〃Be a man； Franz。 Good…night
sleep well；〃 upon which Franz replied in a tone of great agony；
〃There's no chance of sleep for me。〃 Then all was silent。 Next
morning her mistress seemed 〃very queer。〃 Her young master went
out very early； but soon came back again； and there were dreadful
scenes going on in his room； as she heard； but she didn't know what
it was all about。 She heard of the murder from a neighbor； but
never thought of its having any particular interest for Mr。 Franz；
though； of course； he would be very sorry for the Lehfeldts。
The facts testified to by the servant； especially the going out at
that late hour； and the 〃dreadful scenes〃 of the morning； seemed to
bear but one interpretation。 Moreover； she identified the
waistcoat as the one worn by Franz on the day preceding the fatal
night。
III
THE ACCUSED
Now at last the pent…up wrath found a vent。 From the distracting
condition of wandering uncertain suspicion； it had been recalled
into the glad security of individual hate。 Although up to this
time Kerkel had borne an exemplary reputation； it was now
remembered that he had always been of a morose and violent temper；
a hypocrite in religion； a selfish sensualist。 Several sagacious
critics had long 〃seen through him〃； others had 〃never liked him〃；
others had wondered how it was he kept his place so long in
Lehfeldt's shop。 Poor fellow！ his life and actions； like those of
every one else when illuminated by a light thrown back upon them；
seemed so conspicuously despicable； although when illuminated in
their own light they had seemed innocent enough。 His mother's
frantic protestations of her son's innocenceher assertions that
Franz loved Lieschen more than his own soulonly served to envelop
her in the silent accusation of being an accomplice； or at least of
being an accessory after the fact。
I cannot say why it was； but I did not share the universal belief。
The logic seemed to me forced； the evidence trivial。 On first
hearing of Kerkel's arrest； I eagerly questioned my informant
respecting his personal appearance； and on hearing that he was
fair； with blue eyes and flaxen hair； my conviction of his
innocence was fixed。 Looking back on these days； I am often amused
at this characteristic of my constructive imagination。 While
rejecting the disjointed logic of the mob； which interpreted his
guilt； I was myself deluded by a logic infinitely less rational。
Had Kerkel been dark； with dark eyes and beard； I should probably
have sworn to his guilt； simply because the idea of that stranger
had firmly fixed itself in my mind。
All that afternoon； and all the next day； the busy hum of voices
was raised by the one topic of commanding interest。 Kerkel had
been examined。 He at once admitted that a secret betrothal had for
some time existed between him and Lieschen。 They had been led to
take this improper step by fear of her parents； who； had the
attachment been discovered； would； it was thought； have separated
them for ever。 Herr Lehfeldt's sternness； no less than his
superior position； seemed an invincible obstacle； and the good
mother； although doting upon her only daughter； was led by the very
intensity of her affection to form ambitious hopes of her
daughter's future。 It was barely possible that some turn in events
might one day yield an opening for their consent； but meanwhile
prudence dictated secrecy； in order to avert the most pressing
danger； that of separation。
And so the pretty Lieschen； with feminine instinct of ruse； had
affected to treat her lover with indifference； and to compensate
him and herself for this restraint； she had been in the habit of
escaping from home once or twice a week； and spending a delicious
hour or two at night in the company of her lover and his mother。
Kerkel and his mother lived in a cottage a little way outside the
town。 Lehfeldt's shop stood not many yards from the archway。 Now；
as in Nuremberg no one was abroad after ten o'clock； except a few
loungers at the cafes and beer…houses； and these were only to be
met inside the town； not outside it； Lieschen ran extremely little
risk of being observed in her rapid transit from her father's to
her lover's house。 Nor； indeed； had she ever met anyone in the
course of these visits。
On the fatal night Lieschen was expected at the cottage。 Mother
and son waited at first hopefully； then anxiously； at last with
some vague uneasiness at her non…appearance。 It was now a quarter
past elevennearly an hour later than her usual time。 They
occasionally went to the door to look for her； then they walked a
few yards down the road； as if to catch an earlier glimpse of her
advancing steps。 But in vain。 The half…hour struck。 They came
back into the cottage； discussing the various probabilities of
delay。 Three…quarters struck。 Perhaps she had been detected；
perhaps she was ill； perhapsbut this was his mother's suggestion；
and took little hold of himthere had been visitors who had stayed
later than usual； and Lieschen； finding the night so advanced； had
postponed her visit to the morrow。 Franz； who interpreted
Lieschen's feelings by his own； was assured that no postponement of
a voluntary kind was credible of her。 Twelve o'clock struck。
Again Franz went out into the road； and walked nearly up to the
archway； he returned with heavy sadness and foreboding at his
heart； reluctantly admitting that now all hope of seeing her that
night was over。 That night？ Poor sorrowing heart； the night was
to be eternal！ The anguish of the desolate 〃never more〃 was
awaiting him。
There is something intensely pathetic in being thus； as it were；
spectators of a tragic drama which is being acted on two separate
stages at oncethe dreadful link of connection； which is unseen to
the separate actors； being only too vividly seen by the spectators。
It was with some interest that I； who believed in Kerkel's
innocence； heard this story； and in imagination followed its
unfolding stage。 He went to bed； not； as may be expected； to
sleep； tossing restlessly in feverish agitation； conjuring up many
imaginary terrorsbut all of them trifles compared with the dread
reality which he was so soon to face。 He pictured her weepingand
she was lying dead on the cold pavement of the dark archway。 He
saw her in agitated eloquence pleading with offended parentsand
she was removed for ever from all agitations； with the peace of
death upon her young face。
At an early hour he started； that he might put an end to his
suspense。 He had not yet reached the archway before the shattering
news burst upon him。 From that moment he remembered nothing。 But
his mother described his ghastly agitation； as； throwing himself
upon her neck； he told her； through dreadful sobs； the calamity
which had fallen。 She did her best to comfort him； but he grew
wilder and wilder； and rolled upon the ground in the agony of an
immeasurable despair。 She trembled for his reason and his life。
And when the messengers came to seek him； she spoke but the simple
truth in saying that he was like one distracted。 Yet no sooner had
a glimpse of light dawned on him that some vague suspicion rested
on him in reference to the murder； than he started up； flung away
his agitation； and； with a calmness which was awful； answered every
question； and seemed nerved for every trial。 From that moment not
a sob escaped him until； in the narrative of the night's events； he
came to that part which told of the sudden disclosure of his
bereavement。 And the simple； straightforward manner in which he
told this tale； with a face entirely bloodless； and eyes that
seemed to have withdrawn all their light inwards； made a great
impression on the audience； which was heightened into sympathy when
the final sob； breaking through the forced calmness； told of the
agony which was eating its fiery way through the heart。
The story was not only plausible in itself； but accurately tallied
with what before had seemed like the criminating evidence of the
maid； tallied； moreover； precisely as to time； which would hardly
have been the case had the story been an invention。 As to the
waistcoat which had figured so conspicuously in a