"Miller," said the old Herr--and he shook his head--"this is a bad business. If your Friedrich doesn't catch the Frenchman again, it may cost you your head."
"Lord, save us!" cried the Miller; "Into what scrapes am I coming in my old age! Herr Amtshauptmann, I am innocent; and I haven't kept this leather bag either, and the horse is in Baker Witte's barn."
"Yes, lucky for you, Miller; that's very lucky for you, I give you my word. And you say there is nothing but gold and silver in the valise?"
"No," said the Miller; "nothing but gold and silver--Prussian money, Mecklenburg money, louisd'ors, and silver spoons;" and so saying he unbuckled the valise, and disclosed its contents.
The Herr Amtshauptmann opened his eyes. "Heavens!" he cried, "why, that's a treasure!"
"Yes, you may well say that, Herr Amtshauptmann. My wife never says much; but, when she saw this, she clasped her hands together, and couldn't get out a single word."
"This is all stolen. Miller. Here's the Wertzen crest on the silver things. I know their arms. The wretch has stolen these spoons somewhere in the neighbourhood. But this won't make your case better."
The Miller stood there as if petrified. The Herr Amtshauptmann walked down the room again, and scratched his head; at last, he went up to the Miller, and laid his hand on his shoulder. "Miller Voss," said he, "I have always held you to be an honest man; but such honesty--in such circumstances! Why, you can hardly live from one day to another, and yet, from pure conscience, you give up a sum of money like that, coming nobody could have told from where!"
The old Miller turned as red as fire, and looked at the toes of his boots.
"Yes, Miller," the Amtshauptmann went on, "this conduct of yours is very strange, for you could not know what has happened here; but thank God for it;--it is possible this has saved your life."