"You still ask! Any other man would have guessed long since; for you, for you! She wrote them out at sea, before she sprang into the water." "Then it is the truth! I was convinced of it long since," said he to himself; "but yet moments came in which I was glad to doubt again--what is not possible upon the lonely waves between heaven and earth, with a half-witted--or evil-minded girl?" and then suddenly starting, he cried, as he held Kätchen firmly with his strong arms-- "And yet you are her murderess--why did you not save her?" "It was not possible," said she, stuttering and shaking; "a wave washed her away from my side--she was buried." "And the paper--unhappy girl, when were you to give me the paper?" "She did not say--I could do it at once." "And you did not do it?" "I would not." "Out with the paper!" cried Blanden, enraged. "I have kept it securely in my bosom for so long, I want my reward for it." "Your reward for having kept it from me for years! It is my property--I shall obtain it by force." He began to struggle with Kätchen, who held the locket convulsively in her hand, and uttered a piercing shriek, followed by a wild laugh. "Ha-ha, and if you have it in the net, it will escape again through the meshes! It will avail you nothing, absolutely nothing--without the secret." "Give it me, then." "I love you--love me in return!" cried she, stretching out her arms towards him. "Lunatic," cried Blanden, retreating, as though a sea polypus would Lave encircled him with its arms. She caught at the empty space, then knelt down, crying and sobbing. "Poor Kätchen has nobody in the world; her father is dead--he was always hard and stern. Ah, the sea is so wide, so wide--and the boat drifts farther and farther out--and who cares for me? You were good to me--you gave me the boat--oh, it does not lie on the shore by the post! Here--that is your boat! I had it made into my bed, my sole possession--and there I dream of you." Blanden was moved; he drew nearer, he stroked her wet hair and said kindly-- "Poor child." Thereupon she gave him the locket, after having opened it with a quick pressure and sobbing aloud, hid her face. Blanden went up to the light that was burning low into its socket, and cast a gloomy flickering dense shadow upon the half-effaced letters. Already he doubted whether he should be able to decipher them here, but Kätchen came to his assistance, saying in a hollow voice-- "I will be your light; I know what stands there, I have read it many thousand times-- "'I do not desire to live any longer--love my mother! "'Eva.'"