Baum rode back to the castle. Perhaps the countess had returned by some other road; perhaps her maid could tell him where she had intended to ride to. He asked the maid: "Is your mistress here?"
"No; she rode out with you."
"Don't you know where she intended going?"
"Has she left you? Oh, God! now she'll do it, for sure."
"What do you mean?"
"I've already told the count, that I believed she'd take her life. I believe she has either poison or a dagger with her; she'll kill herself."
"If she meant to take her life that way, she might have done so in her room," replied Baum.
"Yes, yes! It was only last night that she cried out in her sleep, 'Deep in the lake!' Oh gracious heavens! my dear, lovely countess is dead! Oh, what an unhappy creature I am! what will become of me!"
Baum endeavored to pacify her, and inquired whether the countess had left any papers anywhere.
The writing-desk was open and papers were strewn about on it. They found a letter directed to the queen. Baum wanted to take it, but the maid would not give it up. She would not suffer a stranger to pry into her mistress's secrets.