The question appeared to puzzle the judge. The delinquent seemed in
all seriousness to think himself innocent. "You were there yourself,
Ferleitner, and heard how the jury decided after listening to the
witnesses. After that the judge must condemn; he has no choice."

"For mercy? The king?" asked Konrad, who, more bewildered than
consoled, had sat down on the bench, for his legs would scarcely
support him.

"The advocate ventured it," replied the judge. "Your whole bearing
proves that you were inveigled into the business. We want nothing
further. You see, Ferleitner, that evil cannot be eradicated from the
world with evil. To fight evil with evil only increases its power.
But a large heart can pardon such a deed or purpose. Let us hope
meanwhile that our king possesses one. The Chancellor is getting
better. Here, just look--sign the paper." He pulled out a folded
sheet, then an inkpot and a pen. Konrad bent over the table and
groaned while signing his name.

"Ah," he said, "if only I could be free again! I should never think of
such things again. The world could go on as it pleased. I should do
my work, and not trouble about anything else. Only," and he said it
softly, uncertainly, "only I shall not forget God again."

"There is naturally only a moderate chance," said the judge. "In some
cases, where it is concerned with the whole----"

"It is very uncertain, then?" asked Konrad. "But, my God! how is it to
be borne? If this time is lengthened, how is it to be borne? This
terrible suspense!"