Schönleben, from the recesses of the prison, now made a desperate effort to free himself by reviving suspicion against Beutner. So absolutely helpless and hopeless had justice now become that the Nuremberg Court actually accepted a dream as evidence. Schönleben pretended that he had seen the missing cash-box under a heap of wood at Beutner's house--seen it only in his dreams, however. This "baseless fabric" of his imagination sufficed to send the officers to search Beutner's house, and although nothing was discovered, public opinion agreed with the judges in again accusing Beutner, and he was held to be implicated, despite the renewed proof of a satisfactory _alibi_. Nobody believed Beutner's witnesses. The next incident in these shameful proceedings was the death of Frau Mannert, who succumbed to the cruel treatment she had received. She died protesting her innocence to the last, and the priests who shrived her in the dark underground cell where she breathed her last expressed much indignation at the shocking ill-usage to which she owed her death. Four more months passed, bringing no relaxation in the law's severity towards those whom it still gripped in its cruel clutches. Who shall say what their fate might have been? But now, at last, an unexpected turn was given to the inquiry, and by pure accident justice got upon the right track. Certain rumours reached the ears of one of the judges, who proceeded to investigate them. These rumours started from a beer-shop, where someone in his cups had been heard grossly to abuse a locksmith, Gösser by name, and his assistant, Blösel. The vituperation ended in a direct charge of complicity in the Sterbenk robbery. Blösel sat speechless under the attack, but his master, Gösser, tried lamely to repudiate the charges. It was remembered now against these two that, although miserably poor till a certain date, they had become suddenly rich; had bought good clothes and silver watches, had launched out into many extravagances, and were always ready to stand treat to their friends. Gösser just now had applied for a passport to leave Nuremberg and go to Dresden; and passports were in those days rather expensive luxuries, and generally beyond the means of persons in straitened circumstances. Schönleben once more contributed his quota to the newly formulated charge; he had always suspected him, he said; and this time he had good reason to do so. When the police arrested Gösser and his assistant (they were always glad to arrest anybody), the two prisoners incontinently confessed their crime. Gösser, a man of thirty-three, had settled in Nuremberg with his wife and family about a year previously. He was a shiftless, aimless fellow, and it was only by serious money sacrifices that he obtained admission into the guild of locksmiths in Nuremberg. Having thus started in debt, he was never able to get clear [Illustration: STREET IN NUREMBERG.]