"I will bear and risk everything, so long as I can still hope," cried Gotthold.
The dark figures of men now emerged singly and in pairs from the gloomy forest, and approached the place where they stood. They had found nothing; and Statthalter Möller asked whether they should now search the marl-pit; they could probably do no more than that today; it had grown too dark, and the people were completely worn out.
"But if Herr Wenhof wants us to do anything, we will, won't we, men?" asked Statthalter Möller.
"Ay, that we will," they replied in chorus.
"I thank you," said Cousin Boslaf, "you can help me no more now; I will go on alone with this gentleman, as soon as Clas Prebrow comes with the carriage, and I now have a hope that I may find my great-grandchild alive."
The old man's voice trembled as he pronounced the last words, and the people looked at him in astonishment.
"Yes, my great-grandchild," the old man began again, and his voice was now strong, and had acquired a strangely deep, solemn tone, "for that she is--my great-grandchild, and the great-grandchild of Ulrica, the wife of Adolf Wenhof. You have aided me so faithfully to-day that I cannot help telling you the truth. There is no one living whom it can harm, but it may do you good to know that the truth must always be spoken, that an old man of ninety must speak it, for no other reason than that it is the truth. And now go home, children, and don't allow yourselves to be tempted to take vengeance on him who has driven my child from house and home--don't vent your anger on the house and farm. Better men have lived there before him, and better ones will dwell there after him; and now once more I thank you, children."
The men had listened in silence; one after another removed his cap--they did not exactly know why; and when the old man and Gotthold entered the carriage, which meantime had quietly driven up, all stood around it with bared heads, and even after the coach had gone on, and they had set out on their way home, it was long ere any one ventured to speak aloud.
But the coach drove on through the darkness towards the fishing village of Ralow. It was a delightful road on a summer evening, and Cecilia had been fond of walking here with the child. Gotthold thought she would follow this direction, and the old man had assented. "It is your turn now," said he. "We were seeking a dead body, and an old man is well suited for that; now that we are in search of a living woman, young blood may be better."