at
happened to me. But art thou indeed innocent?" Again she returned to
the question of the previous night, as to whether she were really
guilty? But the dark thoughts of night time disappeared before the
clear light of the September sun, which poured like gold within the
prison window. She had acted foolishly, carried away by passion, but
had done nothing which deserved such a punishment. And then the hope
returned to her, that God who had freed her from the dark vault of the
Michael's church, when no one knew about her, would not surrender her
up now to the Wicked One, in whose power she had fallen through that
wicked nightly expedition. Perhaps old Father Werner would find the
right way to her again, he, or Frau Belier, or the Lady Abbess, or the
Kurfuerst himself. With a fixed determination to strengthen herself for
the struggle she was about to undergo, she ate some of the bread which
lay near the window, and drank some water out of the pitcher near by.
Then with full confidence in God she looked out through the bars, and
felt convinced that the Miller from the Kreuzweg would come again
this time with his redheaded boy, or some other faithful friend.
Nevertheless a shudder crept over her when she at last heard at
mid-day a heavy tread, and the key turned creaking in the door. The
dirtily dressed one-eyed old woman entered. This time however she asked
cringingly and submissively how it fared with the poor young lady.
However little inclined Lydia might feel to heed the ugly creature, she
was certain that something must have come to pass which the old woman
kept back. Finally it came out, the Kurfuerst had ordered Lydia to be
taken to the Great Tower and therefore she must bid farewell to the
poor prisoner, for whom she felt so hearty a sympathy. The young lady
would, she hoped, mention how kind and gentle she and Master Ulrich had
been towards her. Her trial was not yet at an end, and if she blackened
Master Ulrich's character, he would repay her for it should she ever be
brought to the rack. Lydia let the horrible woman talk on without
herself answering. But when however her faithful Barbara appeared, she
sank into the arms of her old nurse and comforting tears dispelled half
her sorrows. The old nurse was herself half dead through fear, for
Master Ulrich had likewise explained and impressed on her, that she
also might likewise be accused of being a witch, for not preventing her
young mistress from practising witchc