to his home again.

The Jew's corpse was laid on a bier formed of pine, branches, and the
bearers lifted it on their shoulders. Ruth clung closely to her mother,
both trembling like leaves in the wind, while he who was dearest to
them on earth was borne away, but only the child could weep.

The men, whom Count Frohlinger had left behind as a guard, waited
patiently with the smith for his son's return until noon, then they urged
departure, and the party moved forward.

Not a word was spoken, till the, travellers stopped before the charcoal-
burner's house.

Jorg was in the city, but his wife said that the boy had been there, and
had gone back to the forest an hour before. The tavern could accommodate
a great many people, she added, and they could wait for him there.

The fugitives followed this advice, and after Adam had seen the women
provided with shelter, he again sought the scene of the misfortune, and
waited there for the boy until night.

Beside the stump on which his friend had died, he prayed long and
earnestly, vowing to his dead preserver to live henceforth solely for his
family. Unbroken stillness surrounded him, it seemed as if he were in
church, and every tree in the forest was a witness of the oath he swore.

The next morning the smith again sought the charcoal-burner, and this
time found him. Jorg laid the blame to Ulrich's impatience, but promised
to go to Marx in search of him and bring him to the smith. The men