It was not until the guide again came up with them, that they paused, and Bruno ventured to draw a long breath. The guide now told them how Thomas had raged, and how he had called out for the gun which he had hidden in the wood, and that he had said he must shoot his brother-in-law.
"The best thing the fellow could do," said the guide, "would be to drink himself to death, so as to save himself from being hanged."
After some time, Bruno ventured to ask the intendant, in a whisper, whether they had not proceeded far enough with their investigation, and whether it was not best to return at once.
The intendant was silent. Bruno looked at him again with that bitter expression which might also pass for grief.
The intendant, who saw that Bruno was almost broken down, consented to return.
CHAPTER XII.
The two friends returned to the inn. On their way, they met one of the grooms who had brought their horses, and who now told them of a boatman who had informed him that the body of a woman had been dragged from the lake. It had been near the village, of which a few scattered houses and the church steeple were visible on the opposite shore.
The intendant embraced Bruno, who seemed staggered at the news. They sat down for a while, in the very spot where they had been when the news reached them. The groom said that, by boat, they could reach the village in one hour; but that if they went by land, it would take them several hours.
"I can't cross the water," said Bruno, "I can't to-day; Schoning, don't ask it of me! Don't force me! Why do you torment me so?" he asked impatiently.
The intendant well knew that deep grief makes men unreasonable. In the dark depths of their hearts, there still lurks a feeling of anger, even toward those who most thoroughly sympathize with them, but who, themselves, have been spared by misfortune.