"What do you mean?"
"Can a man like that belong to our order, and have the sign?"
"You see that he can."
"What do the brethren have swords for then? Why did I not—" cried he, gnashing his teeth.
He clenched his fists, raised himself up, and then sank back. His savage nature, which had been only repressed and held in constraint, broke out in the last death-struggle.
Oh, I can write nothing more. I have been deceived in myself. I believed myself fortified against everything, but I am not. I beg you, dear Herr Weidmann, to inform my mother of the death of Manna's and Roland's father.
If I could only go to sleep, if I could only rest!
[Postscript in Manna's hand-writing.]
This letter, written thus far, was found in my Eric's pocket when he was drawn from under his horse's hoofs. In his excited, and, in fact, delirious state, he had mounted his horse, thinking he was going into battle. He was thrown. I send the letter. He does not yet recognize any one, and is still delirious, but the physician gives me some hope.
I shall keep the letter until I can give some more favorable tidings.