"Merciful God!—I will not hearken to you."
"Why do you ask me, then? I have told nobody. Go home, my lady, you cannot buy the mercy of God for money."
"And yet there must be something in it. He is repeatedly mentioning his sister's name. And—oh! what a look he has at such times!"
"I know it. His groaning can be heard outside in the street. If a poor man's child wailed like that they would pitch it down a well."
"Speak! How and where did it take place?"
"The children were playing outside, close to the pond, I was on the opposite side plucking healing plants. Suddenly the two children caught sight of a pretty flower on a high rock. They both hastened to the spot to pluck it. The girl was the quicker, and got there first, and when she had plucked the flower the lad began to quarrel with her, and as they struggled the little girl fell off the rock, her head struck against the hard root of a tree, and she remained motionless on the spot. All pale and frightened little Cain stood beside her, and gazed stupidly at the blood flowing from his sister's forehead. He saw that he had killed his sister, and in vain he begged and prayed her to awake again, in vain he pulled her about. Then he began to cry like one who is desperate, and ran towards the lake. I saw him gazing into the water, and he gazed into it for a long time, perhaps he thought of drowning himself. He shrank back from the face that stared at him from the surface of the water, his own distorted face. Slowly he crept back again, his face was as white as death, and his lips were blue. He gazed around him in every direction to see if anybody was looking. Then he suddenly put his arms round the lifeless body, and with a strength incredible in one so young he dragged it to a ditch which was thickly overgrown with bushes, and covered it over with leaves and branches. There was still some life in the little girl, for when the lad began stamping down the heaped-up leaves with his feet, she groaned aloud and said: 'Oh, Neddy, Neddy, don't bury me. Emma won't cry. Emma won't tell mamma!'"
"Oh! my poor little girl!"
"On hearing these words the boy took to his heels—he ran and ran till he fell down senseless in the wood. There some swine-herds found him as they were gathering beech-mast, and since then he has been plagued by a burning fever-fit."
"It is like a frightful nightmare."
"I tell you the truth, and such a thing is only what your family deserves—a murderer of his sister only four years old! Sins like yours are enough to hasten on the end of the world."