And so he now walked through the silent street towards his lodgings, gazed at the girls dancing merrily, the sunlight shining so brightly on the gray old gables, and the flock of white doves wheeling in airy circles under the bright blue sky. How beautiful the world was! How pure and balmy the soft warm air he eagerly inhaled! How lightly he strode along, in spite of the long night of anxious watching! How the blood bounded in his veins! And yet darkness and death might conquer! If the child died--Gotthold paused with a shudder--he had seen, the little dark mound so distinctly. But it was only a trick of his imagination; Gretchen was still alive; she would recover; the delicate little creature had struggled through this terrible night, and he might even be permitted to say that it was he who had saved her life once more. So she must live for him; her pure soft hands must fit the keystone of the building of his happiness. Had he not hitherto succeeded in everything far beyond his expectation! Had not even chance showed him her most gracious aspect! A few days ago, how could he even have ventured to hope that his rival would be so soon and so entirely delivered into his hands, and he should be able to say, "This shall be done, and it shall be done so and so, without any outcry, without the knowledge of any person unconcerned?" This very evening the unfortunate man was to return to Dollan to find the money he had stolen, and the following day restore it to the treasury of the convent, through Wollnow; and this evening also, the vessel which took his accomplice would sail for England, the latter having declared of his own free will that he could no longer stay here, and would rather go at once to America, especially if the gentlemen would provide him with money as generously as they had promised, and he knew they would keep their word. So within twenty-four hours at latest everything would be settled and levelled to a foundation on which another structure might be erected. A quick, heavy step, which came towards him through the deserted street near his lodgings, made Gotthold look up. "What is the matter, Jochen?" "He's gone," said Jochen, panting for breath. "I was just on my way to tell you." "Since when?" "It must have been an-hour or two ago; he said he was tired and would take a little nap, while Clas and I went down to Frau Mueller's, who had invited us to breakfast. Well, Herr Gotthold, there we sat quietly; she had a nice pork sausage, and we never thought of any mischief, and meantime the fellow jumped out of a second-story window into the garden, which joins the city wall, and the gate is never locked, and we really are not to blame. Even if one don't exactly like a man, how is one to suppose he has such tricks in his head?" "An hour, you said?" Jochen nodded. "Where is Clas?" "Gone down to the harbor; it's just possible he may have gone on board the ship to look about him a little."