"Has he his pistols with him?"
"No, I have them with me."
Sonnenkamp went to Roland's room and knocked; but there was no answer. He begged and entreated Roland to answer him, but Roland made no sound.
"If you do not open immediately, I will shoot myself before your door!" cried Sonnenkamp.
Pranken, who was with him, said:—
"Roland! Roland! will you be guilty of the death of your father?"
"Open! open!" moaned Sonnenkamp before the door.
The bolt was drawn back, and Roland stood rigid, looking at his father, who stretched out his arms toward him; but Roland remained motionless, with lips pressed together, and eyes glaring like one insane.
"My son!" cried Sonnenkamp. "My only son! my beloved son! my child! forgive me! forgive me!"
Roland rushed toward his father, grasped his hand, and wept over it.