to
Venice."

"To Venice? Why, what are you going to Venice for?"

"Never mind about that, Franz, but help me to pray that I may get there
in time."

She almost pushed the old man out of the door with these last words and
shut and locked it behind him.

She wanted to be alone with this hideous fear that was clutching at her
heart. For it was not to Franz that she could tell the thoughts that
came to her lips now as she sank down, wringing her hands, before a
picture of the Madonna: "Oh Holy Virgin, Mother of our Lord, plead for
me! let me be with my dear mistress when the terrible time comes
and they take her husband away from her, or, if preferring death to
disgrace, he ends his life by his own hand!"

CHAPTER XI. IN THE POLICE COURT

Commissioner Von Riedau sat at his desk late that evening, finishing
up some important papers. The quiet of an undisturbed night watch had
settled down on the busy police station. An occasional low murmur of
whispering voices floated up from the guardroom below, but otherwise the
stillness was broken only by the scratching of the commissioner's pen
and the rustle of the paper as he turned the leaves. It was a silence so
complete that a light step on the stair outside and the gentle turning
of the doorknob was heard distinctly and the commissioner looked up with
almost a start to see who was coming to his room so late. Joseph Muller
stood in the open door, awaiting his chief's official recognition.

"Oh! it's you, Muller. So late? Come in. Anything new?" asked the
commissioner. "Have you succeeded in drawing a confession from that
stubborn tramp yet? You've been interviewing him, I take it?"

"Yes, I had a long talk with Johann Knoll to-day."

"Well, that ought to help matters along. Has he confessed? What could
you get out of him?"

"Nothing, or almost nothing more than he told us here in the station,
sir.

"The man's incredibly stubborn," said the commissioner. "If he could
only be made to understand that a free confession would benefit him more
than any one else! Well, don't look so down-cast about it, Muller. This
thing is going to take longer than we thought at first for such a simple
affair. But it's only a question of time until the man comes to his
senses. You'll get him to talk soon. You always do. And even if you
should fail here, this matter is not so very important, when we think of
all the other things you have done." Muller, standing front of the desk,