But for him, who, according to the number of his years, might be his son--whom he would so gladly--no no! not that, not that; but he loved him because he was so good and noble, loved him as an older man can and may love a younger whom he sees tottering along the same intricate mazes of the path of life, which once drank his own heart's blood--for him nothing was yet decided. Could not the determination be made so that the heart need not pour forth its best blood, ere it was calm enough to understand the lessons of wisdom? How gladly would he have procured him a happiness of which he had himself been deprived! It could no longer be a perfect happiness, under any circumstances--too much had already happened which would cast its shadow athwart the fairest future--but perhaps to him it was the only one possible. After all, there was something in the race, in the old habits of thought and feeling transmitted to their descendants by those ancient Germans, who did not try to improve their wretched homes, but simply gave the matter up, who knew of no other stratagem in battle except that of binding themselves together with chains, and in gambling preferred to be ruined, rather than make any concession to ill-luck. And now he too! the son of such a father, such a mother, who both had been destroyed by this excess of feeling, which will suffer no bargaining and trading. Here also the case was essentially different; a force was involved here which was entirely lacking then, a force which almost seemed to make what he would otherwise condemn as a crime against society, an act of philanthropy--a necessity, and yet in his eyes a sad one. To be sure, almost everything in regard to this question was still and must remain mere conjecture, at least so long as those who had been the victims of this--accident on the moor were unable to tell what they knew, or what observations they had made before and after. True, at best it was probable that very little weight could be given to the Assessor's statement, since from the little Gotthold had communicated on that first evening, it was evident enough that the former had been incapable of judging of anything; and even now, when he could think and speak clearly again, he persisted in the assertion that he knew nothing, and must have slept until the catastrophe happened. But Gotthold, who, with the delicate perceptions of an artist, must have seen, heard, and noticed everything, could undoubtedly supply materials which a clever investigator would know how to prize.