“Well, well!” said the Father.  “Other mothers had different experiences with other sons.”

“I would sacrifice everything too for the sake of our dear Lady,” muttered Konrad.

“That’s right,” returned the Father.  “Now tell me more.  Quite young, then, you lived among strangers, eh?”

He uttered confusedly:  “After the deaths of my father and mother I was apprenticed.  To a joiner.  That was a splendid time.  Only I read a great deal too much to please the master—­all sorts of things, and dreamed about them.  And I didn’t wish to do anything wrong, at least so I imagined.  The master called me a stupid visionary, and gave me the sack.  Then came a period of wandering—­Munich, Cologne, Hamburg.  I was two years with a master at Cologne.  If only I had stayed with him!  He didn’t want to let me go—­and there was a daughter.  Then to Hamburg.  That was bad luck.  I was introduced into a Society for the protection of the people against traitors.  To be a saviour, to risk one’s life!  It came to me very slowly, quite gradually, what was the misery of living under such tyranny.  When a boy I once killed a dog that bit some poor people’s children in the street.  A dog belonging to gentlefolk!  I was whipped, but it scarcely hurt—­there was always in my mind; ‘You freed them from the beast!’ And I felt just the same about the Society.  I can’t tell you what went on in me.  I’m all bewildered.  Everything was laid bare at the trial, the whole horrible story.  Only I said yes with hundreds of others, I said it and thought:  it won’t come to me.  And it did come to me, as if our Lord had not wished it otherwise.  To me, the lot fell to me, when we drew.”

“I know the story, my poor fellow,” said the monk.

“I don’t,” retorted Konrad.  “From the moment they took the revolver out of my hand everything has been dark.  I have known nothing.  I only heard to-day that he lives.  And they told me——­”

“What did they tell you?”

“That I must die.”  Then violently addressing the priest:  “It was a misfortune.  Is it really so great a crime?  Tell me.”

“I don’t think I need tell you that.”

“Very well, then.  So it serves me right.  I desired to do the deed, and they say that’s the same as the accomplishment of it.  Quite correct.  Isn’t it ‘A life for a life’?  It is written so in the Bible.  Just that, no more.  They must take mine.  But—­they must do it unexpectedly, suddenly.  Just as I meant to do to him.  Otherwise it won’t be fair.  Tell me, holy Father, is it cowardly to be so terrified?  I am so terrified—­of what is before me.  There’s nothing about this terror of death in the Scriptures.  Those who settled my fate to-day looked like men.  Then they ought to know that they are executing me a thousand times, not once.  Why do I still live, I who was slain three hours ago!  Quick!  From behind!  If only they were so merciful!  One of them said to-day it was my duty to die.  My God!  I think I have the right to die, and they’re the criminals!  They haven’t secured me my rights at once!  It would have been over by now.  O God, my God, if only it were over!”