"You shall soon know. Let us follow the heyducks, the room is empty. Adieu, Melchoir, your duties will be light hereafter; you need not fear the robbers. Come, baron."
They soon reached the skiff, and found that the twelve sacks had been placed beside the huge pile of dishes, plates, etc.
"Alas!" said Fredersdorf, gloomily, "all this might have been avoided if I had already reached the goal I am aiming at; if I had fathomed the great mystery which God has suspended over mankind, upon whose sharp angles and edges thousands of learned and wise men have dashed their brains and destroyed their life's happiness! My God! I have accomplished so much, so little remains to be done! let me only find a sufficiently hardened substance, and the work is done. I shall have laid bare God's great mystery—I shall make gold!"
"Do you think ever of this, Fredersdorf?"
"I think ever of this, and shall think only of this as long as I live. This thought swallows up all other thoughts; it has destroyed my love, my rest, my sleep, my earthly happiness! But wait, Pollnitz, only wait; one day I shall lift the philosopher's stone, and make gold. On that day you will love me dearly, Baron Pollnitz. On that day I will not be obliged to prove to you, as I have just done, that the king has no money."
"I have seen no proof yet," said Pollnitz.
"You shall have it now, baron," said Fredersdorf, springing into the skiff. "Will you not go with us? Forward, forward at once!"
"But—what is your destination?"
"Come nearer, that I may whisper in your ear."
Pollnitz bowed his head.