and considered this as a
punishment for the guilt which she had been induced to commit. How
thankful she felt that her father was absent and therefore not anxious
about her. Thus thinking she fell asleep.

She woke, aroused by a stone which fell from above on her wounded foot.
"Nothing stirs," she heard a boy's voice say. "I am here," cried Lydia
in terror lest her deliverers should depart. "God be praised, young
lady," cried a man's voice, "we heard no sound and feared our search
was vain. Have you strength enough, to let yourself be pulled up by a
rope."

"I doubt it. My foot is broken and my back is wounded."

"Then must we see if the ladder is long enough."

"But you promise to do me no harm?"

"Don't you know me, young Maiden, the Miller Werner from the
Kreuzgrund, behind Ziegelhausen."

"Ah, is it you Father Werner," said she crying for joy. "How did you
find out where I was?"

"The wretches who hunted you down, said, you disappeared from them here
as if the earth had swallowed you up, so we could easily imagine where
you were. The scoundrels would have quietly let you perish."

"Yes, it was terrible," said Lydia, "but God punished me for my sins."

The ladder was now let down through the opening, and carefully did the
brave old man avoid touching Lydia. Then he himself climbed down
holding a burning rosin torch. "A filthy hole, this old cellar," he
murmured. "How the bats fly the light. Yes, light is horrible to you,
you children of darkness." Carefully did he raise Lydia, who like a
child wound her arms round his neck. Cautiously did he climb the ladder
to the world above, where he laid her down on the soft turf. The
question now was how to carry the sick child, who lay pale and faint on
the ground, to the high road beneath. The Miller thought at first of
using the ladder as a stretcher, and carrying her down on that. But the
ladder was small and hard. To fetch a stretcher would have taken too
much time and attracted attention. Lydia also begged urgently that he
would hurry. Nothing remained but for the old man to carry her down in
his arms, for which purpose he bound her to himself with the boy's
girdle. The latter ran down to the village to have a covered cart in
readiness below, whilst the father climbed cautiously down the stony
footpath leading to the road. Lydia lay still, on the back of the
miller, with her arms around his neck, while he sought the most lonely
path through wood and vineyard. "