figure and serious face appeared in company with the gaoler.

Konrad felt stunned, and could only think: "The hour has come!" The
man had pronounced his sentence as coldly and unfeelingly as if he had
been a machine which, when its keys are pressed, gives forth sounds
like words. The judge ordered the gaoler to withdraw. The old man
hesitated--what could that mean? The judge had to repeat his order
before the old man would go. When the judge was alone with the
prisoner, he bent down and felt with his hands, for he was not yet
accustomed to the darkness. Then he said kindly: "Konrad Ferleitner, I
have come to ask you if there's anything you wish for?"

The prisoner wrung his hands convulsively; wild pulsations, that beat
in strong double strokes at irregular intervals, coursed through his
body. So violent was his agitation that the poor wretch stuttered
forth words that the judge could not understand.

"Compose yourself!"

When he caught the words "Father-confessor!" amid the sounds uttered by
the prisoner, it occurred to the judge that the poor fellow imagined
that the hour of execution had arrived. "Ferleitner," he said, "come
and sit by me on the bench. You think it's the end--no, it hasn't come
so far yet, and perhaps it won't come so far at all. I may tell you
that a petition for mercy has been sent to His Majesty."

Konrad looked up as if in a dream, and the dim light showed how
terribly pale and sunken his cheeks were. "Mercy!" he muttered in
suppressed tones. "Mercy for me? Then--why did you condemn me?"