"It will be only a formality," she said. "They know that he is dying, and perhaps they will believe that he is innocent. But he has taken the responsibility upon himself and must bear the punishment. It was Captain von Seleneck who told me to go to you. He has taken Wolff to his house, where my mother and his wife are nursing him. Seleneck thought you might have pity, and the papers are valueless now that there is to be no war. Oh, I know that Wolff is suffering! He was so proud of his work and his duty and his great trust. You cannot understand all that it means to him. Oh, Nora, let him die in peace! Give him back his good name—he treasured it so——" All the hatred and cruelty had gone. She held out her hands to Nora in desperate, almost humble, pleading. Nora stood rigid, staring in front of her with blank, terrible eyes. "He is dying!" she said under her breath. "He thinks I was so cruel and wicked! Oh, Wolff!" "When he is asleep he calls your name," Hildegarde went on, "and once he was half delirious, and he told me that you were not to worry—that he was going to die—he wanted to die. And it is true: he wants to die. He has lost everything—everything. That is why I have come—to bring him back at least his honour. Oh, Nora, help me! Remember how he loved you!" She drew a letter from her pocket and forced it into Nora’s powerless hands. "He wrote that before it all happened: it was his farewell to you. He is dying. Read it! Surely it will tell you how he loved you! Surely it will make you pitiful! Nora, if I have been unjust and cruel—forgive me. Think that I am mad with grief—I loved him so——" She broke off. Nora was reading her husband’s letter, and a silence as of death seemed to hover in the little room.