She gave him her hand, saying only,

“Come to your mother; she heard your step, and doesn’t need to be prepared for you.  But you must control yourself; you will find her very much altered.”

Dietrich entered the room.  His mother was still sitting up in bed, watching the door, in a strained, expectant attitude.  She was indeed changed.  She looked so small and thin and wasted.  Dietrich was completely unmanned at the sight.  He sprang to the bedside, threw his arms about her, and between his sobs he cried again and again,

“Forgive me, mother, forgive me!  I will never act so again!  I will lead a different life!  Everything shall be right!  You must live to be happy, mother!”

“Thank God that you have come, Dietrich,” said his mother, trembling with weakness and excitement.  “I forgave you long ago.  How could I have anything against you?  But, my dear boy, why did you not write one word, one little word to tell me how you were and where?  Didn’t you know how unhappy you were making me?”

“What, mother! what do you mean?  I wrote three times to you and twice to Veronica; and you sent me back word through Jost that you did not want to hear from me; that the disgrace was too much, and that no one dared to mention my name before Veronica, she was so angry with me.  I had to send my letters through Jost, and he gave me the address of his old aunt to make all safe.  It was better for you not to know where I was, because they were hunting for me on account of the man I killed.  And you have never got one of my letters; not one?”

His mother could only shake her head in reply.  She tried to speak, but she had already gone beyond her strength, and she sank back upon her pillows.  Veronica, who had been standing by in silence, started forward.

“I will run for the doctor,” she said, “stay with her, Dietrich;” and she darted from the room.  He hurried after her.  “Let me go,” he said, “it is too late for you to be out, and you can take better care of her than I can.”  He was off; and Veronica returned to the bed-side.  He took the shortest road; the one that passed the Rehbock.  Loud shouts and cries were sounding from the inn.  He hurried by.  Presently he heard his own name called; some one came running after him, shouting: 

“Wait, Dietrich, wait!” He turned round and saw Blasi, who had recognized him as he passed the door, and rushed out after him.  “Don’t run away, Dietrich!  Welcome home!  Where did you come from?  Have you seen her?  Don’t run away!  Listen to me!” Dietrich stopped and shook hands with Blasi, and again started forward.  Blasi detained him.