He stared fixedly at the paper which he held in his hand.
"I bid you farewell--for ever! You do not need my love, and yours I have sufficiently experienced! You have crushed my heart and broken my spirit; you have ruthlessly sacrificed my heart, my soul, my love to your pride, as a fanatical priest slaughters the lamb at the altar of his gods. And that other--his father! Truly when the spirit has been killed, it is an act of mercy to kill the body! Wrap yourself then in your pharisaic virtues, enjoy your arrogant pride! For us, welcome disgrace! welcome shame! welcome death!"
"So be it then--death!"
He tore the paper in half, and tore the pieces again and again, flung the fragments on the floor, put his hands behind his back, and began once more to pace up and down the room as he had been doing when Cilli came in.
As he thus moved, with burning downcast eyes, he set his foot upon one of the fragments which were fluttering about here and there. He tried to put it aside, but only ground it deeper into the soft carpet. "Bah!" said he.
But yet he turned and took another direction through the room. At that moment an insecurely fastened window was blown open by the storm, and the fragments fluttered round about him like snow-flakes.
"They want to drive me mad," he cried out loud; "but I will not go mad! Oh Lord, my God! what have I done that Thou shouldst so persecute me! What more can we unfortunate men do than act according to our knowledge and conscience! Have not I done so, so long as I can remember? If our knowledge and our wisdom are imperfect, is that our fault? Why dost Thou punish us for that of which we are not guilty? Surely Thou art pledged to help us in time of need! If Thou hast spoken to me by the mouth of this poor blind girl, I will sacrifice my conviction, my understanding, I will be blindly obedient as a child--if Thou hast spoken to me by her!"
He pressed his hands against his throbbing temples; everything grew dim before his eyes; he staggered to the open window, offering to the storm which raged against him his burning forehead and his breast, from which he had torn open his shirt.
And through the raging storm he heard a voice crying: "Help! help!"
Did he only hear without, the echo of the cry within him?