my lot? The idea has occurred to me now and then that I merely imagine
this accident--but it is certain, only too certain. It sent a feeling
of horror through me to have a strange person like that assist my
memory. What do you say, Eckbert?"

Eckbert looked at his suffering wife with deep tenderness. He kept
silent, but was meditating. Then he said a few comforting words to her
and left the room. In an isolated room he walked back and forth with
indescribable restlessness--Walther for many years had been his sole
male comrade, and yet this man was now the only person in the world
whose existence oppressed and harassed him. It seemed to him that his
heart would be light and happy if only this one person might be put
out of the way. He took down his cross-bow with a view to distracting
his thoughts by going hunting.

It was a raw and stormy day in the winter; deep snow lay on the
mountains and bent down the branches of the trees. He wandered about,
with the sweat oozing from his forehead. He came across no game, and
that increased his ill-humor. Suddenly he saw something move in the
distance--it was Walther gathering moss from the trees. Without
knowing what he was doing he took aim--Walther looked around and
motioned to him with a threatening gesture. But as he did so the arrow
sped, and Walther fell headlong.

Eckbert felt relieved and calm, and yet a feeling of horror drove him
back to his castle. He had a long distance to go, for he had wandered
far into the forest. When he arrived home, Bertha had already
died--before her death she had spoken a great deal about Walther and
the old woman.

For a long time Eckbert lived in greatest seclusion. He had always
been somewhat melancholy because the strange story of his wife rather
worried him; he had always lived in fear of an unfortunate event that
might take place, but now he was completely at variance with himself.
The murder of his friend stood constantly before his eyes--he spent
his life reproaching himself.

In order to divert his thoughts, he occasionally betook himself to the
nearest large city, where he attended parties and banquets. He wished
to have a friend to fill the vacancy in his soul, and then again, when
he thought of Walther, the very word friend made him shudder. He was
convinced that he would necessarily be unhappy with all his friends.
He had lived so long in beautiful harmony with Bertha, and Walther's
friendship had made him happy for so many y