Hinrich had listened attentively.
"I still think you won't give me up to the law, sir," said he; "it's an ugly story, and the less said about it the better, for--for all concerned; but if it must be, why, sir, we poor men are never much better treated than dogs, and these last few days I have fared even worse; so I don't mind going to jail, if he only comes too."
It was too dark for Gotthold to see the cruel smile that played around the man's thick lips, as he uttered the last words.
"I think I can spare you the jail," he answered, "if you will promise to make no attempt at flight, and obey all my orders implicitly. I will require nothing unreasonable."
"I know that, sir," said Hinrich, "and here is my hand."
The hand that rested in Gotthold's was as hard as iron; but he thought he felt in its nervous pressure that the man intended to keep his word.
"Come, then," said he, "and, Jochen, show us a path by which we can reach your house without being seen, if possible."
CHAPTER XXXII.
"My poor dear friend! To think we must part again; it is really too hard. But don't be discouraged! Gretchen will get well, and everything will come out right at last."
Ottilie Wollnow said these words in the antechamber of her house in Sundin, to Gotthold, with whom she had just left the room where Cecilia and old Borlaf were watching Gretchen's feverish slumber.