acting strangely, and had, in spite of repeated calling, finally run off into the woods.  Suddenly, during a lightning flash, the woman had seen something white beside her on the moss.  It was her husband’s staff, and almost at the same moment the dog had broken through the shrubbery with something in his mouth; it was her husband’s shoe.  Before long they found the Jew’s body in a trench filled with dry leaves.

This was the report of the servant, supported only in general by the wife; her intense agitation had subsided and her senses now seemed half confused or, rather, blunted.  “An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth!” These were her only words, which she at intervals ejaculated.

The same night the guards were summoned to take Frederick into custody.  They needed no warrant, because Herr von S. himself had been witness to a scene which inevitably threw the strongest suspicion on him; furthermore there was the ghost story of that night, the beating together of the sticks in the forest of Brede, the scream from above.  Since the clerk of the court was at that time absent, Herr von S. hastened everything faster than would otherwise have been done.  Nevertheless dawn was already breaking when the riflemen as quietly as possible surrounded poor Margaret’s house.  The Baron himself knocked; it was hardly a minute before the door was opened, and Margaret appeared, fully dressed.  Herr von S. started; he scarcely recognized her, so pale and stony did she look.  “Where is Frederick?” he asked in an unsteady voice.

“Search for him!” she answered, and sat down on a chair.  The Baron hesitated a moment longer.

“Come in, come in,” he then said roughly to the guards; “what are we waiting for?” They stepped into Frederick’s room.  He was not there, but the bed was still warm.  They climbed to the garret, down the cellar, examined the straw, looked behind every barrel, even into the oven; he was not there.  Some of them went into the garden, looked behind the fence and up into the apple trees; he was not to be found.

“Escaped!” said the Baron with conflicting feelings; the sight of the old woman made a strong impression on him.  “Give me the key to that trunk!” Margaret did not answer.  “Give me the key,” he repeated, and noticed now for the first time that the key was already in the lock.  The contents of the trunk were brought into view—­the fugitive’s best Sunday clothes and his mother’s poor finery, then two shrouds with black ribbons, one made for a man, the other for a woman.  Herr von S. was deeply affected.  Under everything else, at the very bottom of the trunk, lay the silver watch and some documents in a very legible hand, one of these signed by a man who was strongly suspected of alliance with the forest-thieves.  Herr von S. took them along to examine them, and the guards left the house without Margaret’s giving another sign of life than that of incessantly biting her lips and blinking her eyes.