“I wanted--to make amends for the sin committed against Douglas in my father’s house.” A murmur of disappointment and unbelief went through the court. “And for that reason you roamed about in the strange garden?” “I had a longing to meet somebody, of whom I might have asked pardon.” “And for that you chose the night?” “I could not sleep.” “And you were driven there by your restlessness?” “Yes.” “Did you meet anybody in the garden?” “No.” “Have you been there on any former occasion at the same hour?” A long pause, then another “no” came from his mouth, this time softly and hesitatingly, as if wrung from his conscience. The constraint which weighed on every one began to lessen, the president turned over his papers, and Elsbeth gazed across at him with big lustreless eyes. “Where were you when you first saw the glow of the flames?” “About twenty steps away from the manor-house of Helenenthal.” “And what did you do then?” “I was much frightened, and hastened back immediately to my father’s farm.” “In what manner did you leave the garden?” “I climbed over the garden fence.” “So you did NOT open the door which leads from the garden to the yard?” “No.” “And didn’t you pass the front of the house?” “No.” A new tumult arose in court. The little man with the bunch of keys rose and said, “I must ask the president to question Miss Douglas again--regarding what she says she heard that night.” “If you please, Miss Douglas,” said the president. With a long look at Paul she rose. They now stood close together in the wide, crowded court, as if they belonged to each other. “Where did the steps vanish to which you heard when the glow of the fire woke you?” “Towards the yard,” she replied, softly--hardly audible. “And did you distinctly hear the handle of the garden gate rattle?” “Yes.” “Consider well if you may not have been mistaken.” “I was not mistaken,” she answered, softly but firmly. “Thank you. You may sit down.” She went back to her seat with uncertain steps. Since that fatal “no” her eye was riveted on Paul. She seemed to have forgotten by that time all around her. “When you got over the garden fence, which way did you take?” the president continued, turning to Paul. “Across the heath.” “Did you pass the wood?” “No; I ran two or three hundred steps away from it.” “Did you meet any one on your way?” “I saw a shadow which moved towards the wood, and at my approach disappeared suddenly.” A prolonged stir went through the court; the accused man turned pale, and his eyes assumed a fixed look. The chief-justice did not take his eyes off him. A few more unimportant questions, and then Paul was allowed to sit down. His mother and sisters were called, but what they could tell was of no importance. The sisters looked round inquisitively, almost boldly. His mother wept when she had to speak about the moment of her waking.