"No one has suspected you except Franz Schorn, and to me alone has he expressed his suspicion. I am sure that the breaking of the rope was an accident. I shall not allow suspicion to attach to any one, either to you or to Schorn. I require of you to return to me the pieces of rope and to be silent to the Attorney General concerning the whole matter; the affair concerns myself alone."
Herr Foligno made many objections to my demand. I found it difficult to soothe him; he was so indignant with Schorn for showing me the ends as proof against him. He burned with the desire for revenge for such an insult, and I succeeded only with great trouble and much entreaty in persuading him to be silent and to return to me the ends of rope.
He remained until far into the night--a civility I could easily have dispensed with. I was not comfortable in his society. I tried in vain to talk on indifferent subjects; he persisted in returning to the adventure in the cave and always with an attempt to cast further suspicion upon Schorn. His hatred for Franz and his indignation at what Franz had said to me was so great that he could think of nothing else. He would have tormented me, I believe, until daybreak with his accusations and his discussions of the matter; but at last I frankly told him that I had need of repose, and then he bade me good-night.
CHAPTER XII.
[AN ARREST].
I had to undergo a long examination. The investigating Judge and the Attorney General came from Laibach. Immediately after receiving Herr Foligno's deposition, they determined to take the very uncomfortable journey to Luttach to hear for themselves from witnesses on the spot all that was known regarding Franz Schorn's actions and whereabouts during the last few weeks. The investigating Judge told me of this with all the courtesy of an Austrian official. With entire lack of reserve, he informed me that although Herr Foligno's carefully prepared paper was quite sufficient to attach suspicion to Schorn, it did not at all suffice to convince him of the young man's guilt. He requested me to tell everything that I knew of Schorn and to hold back nothing out of regard for the man who, as he had already heard in Adelsberg, had saved my life. It was my duty to tell not only the truth, but the whole truth.
The Judge was a handsome, kindly man, so courteous that he would not have me summoned for my examination to the court house, but took down my deposition in my room. Yet with all his amiability and in spite of the sympathy which he apparently felt for Franz Schorn, his inquiries were frightfully searching; he forced me to tell him more than I wished to.
I had intended at this hearing to confine myself to what I had dictated in the Judge's deposition, but I could not keep my resolution. When the Judge asked me if Franz Schorn, of whom I had seen much in the last few weeks, had never told me his reason for avoiding me in the forest, I could not reply in the negative, and I was forced to assent, and to relate the conversation I had had with Franz and his betrothed. I could not conceal that each had requested me to say nothing of the meeting in the forest. Such an interview as this of mine with the Judge is very curious. The witness knows that every word he utters is upon his oath, and also that it may decide the fate of a fellow mortal. Every consideration vanishes before such a responsibility, and I could have none for the Judge. I had to acknowledge to my examiner that Anna and Franz had given as a reason of the request for my silence that the Judge's hatred of the young man was so intense that he would surely use my meeting with Franz as evidence against him.
The Judge shook his head thoughtfully on hearing this; he evidently did not credit their explanation. Had I cherished no suspicion? Had it never occurred to me as odd that Franz Schorn should have wounded his hand? I could not deny that such a suspicion had occurred to me, but I could declare with a good conscience that it had vanished entirely after I had come to know Schorn better.
What was the reason that after this first awakening of suspicion I had not informed the authorities of my meeting with the young man in the neighborhood? Why had I withheld this information until the day before yesterday? This keen questioning forced me to an exact reply. I told of how I had desired to give information immediately of my meeting with Schorn, and I gave Herr Foligno's reason for begging me not to insert it in an official deposition, and as a natural consequence I related the reasoning by which he had induced me to render to him my official statement.