Very little more could be done. True, the fog had dispersed, but twilight had already closed in; in half an hour, or an hour at latest, it would be perfectly dark. Besides, the men, who ever since noon had been constantly on their feet, searching bushes and woods, fields and morass, were evidently fatigued and exhausted, though quite ready to search the forest in the direction of Dahlitz, as soon as they had eaten the supper Cousin Boslaf had ordered to be brought out from the house. The old man himself neither eat nor drank; he stood with folded arms, leaning against the trunk of one of the huge old lindens, waiting patiently until the men should once more be ready to help him seek his great-granddaughter, the last of his race, at the bottom of the marl-pit, the depths of some forest ravine, or wherever she had fled with her child to die. Gotthold had entered the house to look for Mine, a good young servant-girl whom he had often seen playing with Gretchen, and who appeared to be very devoted to Cecilia; perhaps he might learn from her something that would give a clew. He found her in the kitchen, where with eyes swollen with weeping, she was helping the housekeeper prepare bread and butter for the men's supper. When she caught sight of Gotthold she dropped the knife with a cry of joy, and came running towards him. Gotthold told her to leave the room with him. At first the good child's tears almost choked her words. The mistress had been very sad the last few weeks, much more sorrowful than usual; she had scarcely spoken except to Gretchen, whom she would never trust out of her sight, and even to her only when it was absolutely necessary. Yesterday she had remained out of doors alone until very late in the evening, and when she came in looked so pale and exhausted, and stared straight before her with such a fixed expression; she would not go to bed, however, but insisted that she should go to her mother in Neuenhof, who was very sick, and added that she need not come back before noon, and then the mistress had already been gone, no one knows how long. Rieke had certainly known it long before, but said nothing from fear of the other servants, and hid herself up stairs until the master came home. At first he scolded her furiously, and struck at her with his riding-whip, but Rieke cried and screamed that she would charge the master with it, and made such evil speeches that at last he took her away with him in the carriage; and her dear kind mistress had been obliged to go out of the house in the middle of the night, and dear sweet little Gretchen had not even had her new boots, for they were locked up in the closet, and she had the key in her pocket.