"Herr Burgomeister," said Axel, springing up, "I don't see what this brandy story has to do with my money. The fellow has stolen it!"
"That is just what I want to find out," said the burgomeister, very quietly, "whether he has stolen or, more properly, embezzled the money, and whether he was altogether in a condition to do such a thing," and going up to the young Herr he said, very kindly, but also very decidedly, "Herr von Rambow, a thief, who intends to steal two thousand thalers, does not begin by getting drunk. Moreover, I must tell you, that as a magistrate, I have to consider not only your interests, but also those of the accused."
The day-laborer, Regel, came in. He was deadly pale; but the distress which he had shown in his whole manner, before the old inspector, in the afternoon, had left him, he looked almost like old oaken wood, into which no worm ventures.
He acknowledged that he had drunk the brandy at home, more yet in Rahnstadt, and that he had been with the shopkeeper, about nine o'clock; then he had spent the night with his friends, in Rahnstadt, and about six o'clock had started for Rostock; but there he stuck to his story: by the Gallin wood, two fellows had attacked him, and taken the money by force. While the last of his deposition was being taken down, the door opened, and the laborer's wife rushed up to her husband,--for police-laws are not very strict, in our primitive Mecklenburg tribunals,--and grasped his arm: "Jochen! Jochen! Have you made your wife and children unhappy forever?"
"Marik! Marik!" cried the man, "I have not done it. My hands are clean. Have I ever, in my life, stolen anything?"
"Jochen!" cried the wife, "tell the truth to the gentlemen!"
The laborer's breast throbbed and his face flushed a deep red, but in a moment he was as deadly pale as before, and he cast a shy, uncertain glance at his wife: "Marik, have I ever, in all my life, stolen or taken anything?"
The wife let her hands fall from his shoulder: "No, Jochen, you have not! You have not, truly! But you lie, you have often lied to me." She put her apron to her eyes, and went out of the room. Habermann followed her. The day-laborer, also, was led away.
The burgomeister had not disturbed the interview between the man and wife,--it was not in order, but it might furnish him a clue, by which he could draw the truth to light. Axel had started up at the woman's words, "You lie, you have often lied to me," and walked hastily up and down the room; his conscience smote him, he did not exactly know why, this evening, he only knew that he also had never stolen or taken anything, but he had lied. But so it is with the soul of a man who is not sincere, even at the moment when his conscience troubles him, he lies again, for his own advantage. His case was quite a different one from the laborer's; he had only told a few falsehoods, for the benefit of his wife, that she might not be disturbed, the laborer had lied to conceal his guilt. Yes, Herr von Rambow, only keep on like that, and the devil will surely, in time, reap a fine harvest!
Slusuhr had finished his writing, and again went boldly up to Axel: