llen into such
profound wretchedness. Her going to the Holtermann now appeared to her
in the light of a terrible crime. Had she not in fact sat near the
witch, and perhaps the Wicked One had obtained power over her. Had she
not once dreamt, that she was travelling through the air from the
Holtermann to the Castle, and had plainly seen the illuminated windows
of the town before her? What, if she in her sleep without being aware
of it had through the power of the Evil One, been in reality obliged to
ride to the witches' meeting, as many walk about in their sleep during
the full moon and on the following morning know nothing about it? Had
she been the means of producing the storm, through the Devil putting it
into her head to draw water out of the brook at a momentous hour of the
morning? Who could know what the relation of this deep well was to the
clouds? And had she not in reality spoken in a very heedless manner,
when she told red-headed Frances that she had plucked Felix's rose out
of the stone wreath? And what a terrible crime it was that amidst the
thunder and lightening, as God's wrath was plainly addressed to her,
she lay in the arms of the artist and allowed his embraces! A terrible
fear came over her. Dreadful thoughts confused her more and more. As
the clock struck one Lydia was convinced, that she was a witch and
determined to confess everything, in that way she might escape the
rack. She knew that she was lost, but she would not suffer herself to
be tortured. "If they will only not ask me who taught me magic, and
commanded me to go to the Holtermann," sighed the poor child. And she
depicted to herself, how finally they would get out of her that it was
Paul. Her terror became boundless. And now it struck two. Then she
felt, that these dreadful thoughts would kill her, if they lasted much
longer. In her distress she began to repeat all the prayers, hymns and
texts, that she knew, and although convulsive fear weighed down her
heart, she nevertheless became more tranquil by this means. At last day
broke, but no one came to her. She heard how life began in the town.
She could explain every sound. The streets re-sounded as ever with
merriment. She heard the boys calling, whistling, singing; she heard
the barking of dogs, the rattling of carriages, the creaking of wheels,
the sound of horses' hoofs, everything went on as usual and no one
thought of her grief. A feeling of great bitterness took possession of
her young