But as Sonnlein declared he would go off in the woods and take the ordeal himself—and I knew in his sicklied state he would do so—Brother Benno and I finally compromised with the stubborn youth by going to "Ararat," the second floor of Zion, where Sonnlein took one of the thirteen cells for himself while Brother Benno and I each took an adjoining cell.
Here in this deserted old chapter house, relic of the pride and folly of the poor Eckerlings, we lived all alone for almost a week, and never in my life was week longer; for though Brother Benno and I attended all the services, yet the solicitude of the Brothers and Sisters was such—they believing that we had moved Sonnlein to the hill for purer air in his illness—that Brother Benno and I were not permitted to do any of our usual work.
This, indeed, suited our purpose most opportunely, for Brother Benno desired to keep constant watch over the treatment, while I was resolved to keep strict watch over my boy's safety.
Thus the first day, the second, and the third and even the fourth, and the fifth day passed, during all of which I was not permitted once to see my boy. Nor did I even hear anything, for Brother Benno and Sonnlein dared not so much as exchange a word. Only that on every opportunity I would seek Brother Benno and in a whisper, so my boy could not hear, would I get report of him, Brother Benno invariably saying Sonnlein was a most obedient votary and that he was in good health, though weak. Thus I allowed myself to become a sharer in this wicked thing.
But on the night of the fifth day, after coming from our midnight devotions, Brother Benno having given me his usual favorable report, I sought repose in my cell, though it seemed as I lay awake for a long time I could hear Sonnlein turning uneasily in his cell and murmuring continually in a great fever. Then for a long while all was quiet only that I thought I could hear him breathing heavily in his sleep. Reassured by this I dropped off into a heavy sleep, for in my anxiety I had kept vigil in my Kammer almost every night. It seemed to me I had not slept long, but I know now I slept almost until daybreak, when in my sleeping I heard a rumbling like thunder and then as a flash of lightning illumined my narrow cell, followed closely by a crash of thunder—for such storms have we at times even in winter—I jumped up fully awake and shaking like a leaf, though I never feared much the noise of thunder. And then without knowing what I was doing and heedless of Brother Benno's injunctions, I rushed into Sonnlein's cell, my heart almost standing still as I noted in all the darkness that he was gone!
I rushed madly for Brother Benno's cell, but my agitated steps had roused him from his slumber, and as I met him in the corrider I clutched him so that he shrank from me in fear as I howled at him, "Sonnlein, my boy, where is he?" and then ere my startled brother could reply I heard from down the meadows, mingling with the crashing and rumbling of the thunder Sonnlein's voice crying out again and again, "Genoveva! Genoveva!"
I know not how I got out of Zion or whether or not Brother Benno was following as I darted down the hill for the Cocalico, once in a flash of lightning imagining I saw my boy plunge into the creek for the other side. But though I ran to the spot in all the darkness and the storm and though I rushed wildly through the stream, and into the woods on the farther side, all the while crying out his name, I had no reply, and at last feeling now as though I had indeed more than I could bear, I returned half-dazed to my cell in Bethania, not wishing ever again to set foot in that house of evil on the hill.
Brother Benno informed all the Brothers and the Sisters that Sonnlein had wandered away in his sickness and though everybody in the Kloster and also the good neighbors sought most earnestly and lovingly, even wading the icy creek for him, thinking most likely he had been drowned, naught of anything was found of my boy.