She
went on, through the pathless forest, treading down the soft moss.
Sometimes she heard the twittering of birds in the tree-tops; a martin
or a weasel was destroying the young in their nests. The world is full
of murder, thought she; its creatures are ever preying on each other.
Though man destroys and kills his fellow-men, he does not eat them.
That alone distinguishes man from the beasts. And there is one thing
more--man alone can kill himself. Irma grew dizzy at the thought. She
supported herself against a tree for a moment and then walked on Her
resolve must be carried out; there must be no weakness, no wavering.
She went still further into the dense forest. Her cheeks glowed, the
perspiration dripped from her forehead; but inwardly she fell as if
freezing.

Something rustled through the thicket. It was a stag which she had
frightened from its cover. The stag was afraid of her, and she was
afraid of the stag. He fancied that she could feel its antlers piercing
her. She hurried down the mountain side. For a while she could still
hear the crackling of the underbrush, and at last all was silent again.
The wind whistled through the treetops, and there was a sound of
running water, sometimes near and sometimes afar, and then the roaring
of a forest stream dashing down from the rocks. She beheld the moonlit
foam, and no longer knew where she was or whither she was going--toward
the lake, or away from it. If she were to lose her way in the
forest--if she were to be found there and taken back to the world and
misery! Mustering all her strength, she walked on. The cool night air
blew against her face, but her cheeks glowed as if with fire. She
pressed her hand to her brow; it seemed as if a hot spring was flowing
from the spot which had been touched. She looked up to the stars and
recognized the familiar constellations. She knew their position, but
those great guides through infinite space do not help the lonely mortal
who has lost her way in the heart of the forest. Irma thought of the
nights when, under Gunther's guidance, her glance had roamed o'er the
vast, starry expanse. But now all was annihilated, all greatness had
fallen. Even her view of the stars was confined and obstructed. She
tried to remember whether she had destroyed the letters or left them
behind her. She thought she could remember having burnt that of the
king; but how as to the letter to the queen? Torn by conflicting
doubts, she was, at last, comple