ror seized me. I let myself
fall back upon the sand; I could not bear the horrible sight. Through
my brain darted the thought: 'Woe betide you, what will be your fate?'
And in my despair, my mortal terror, I shrieked as loud as I could,
'Help, help!' But I repented horribly; my voice must have roused the
fury of the wounded animal; a roar answered me,--a roar so frightful in
its rage and menace that my breath failed. When silence followed, my
blood rushed, seething, through my veins. What threatened me? What end
awaited me? No cries for aid would be heard by our troops; many, many
miles of untrodden desert sands separated me from our farthest
outposts. I had not seen during my whole ride a single trace of the foe
among the mountains; how gladly would I have surrendered myself into
their hands as a captive! But to languish here, under the scorching
sun, on the burning sands--to perish slowly, for already thirst was
torturing me with its terrible pangs! Ah, and I had heard that this
agonizing death by thirst might drag along for days in the lonely
wilderness.

"Then, looking up to the pitiless, leaden sky, I asked in a whisper,--I
confess that I was afraid to wake the lion's voice again,--'God, God of
Justice, why? What sin have I committed to be forced to suffer thus?'

"Then through my brain darted the terrible answer of Holy Writ: 'I will
visit the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and
fourth generation.' You are atoning, I groaned, for the sins of your
ancestors; the curse of those who were burned at the stake is burning
you here. You are condemned upon earth and in hell. Is this already
hell that compasses me with such scorching heat, that sears my eyes, my
throat, my chest, nay, my very soul? And hark! More terrible, louder
still, it seemed to me, nearer, rose the roar of the monster. My senses
failed again.

"I lay unconscious all night, probably passing from the fainting fit
into a dream. In my half-doze I again saw everything that had happened.
'Ah,' I murmured, smiling, 'it is only a dream; it can be nothing but a
dream. Such things do not belong to the world of reality. You are lying
in your tent, with your sword by your side.' Rousing, I grasped at the
hilt. Oh, horrible! I clutched the desert sand. It was no dream.

"Day had already dawned, and the sun again shone pitilessly with its
scorching rays upon my unprotected face. Now the thought came, 'My
sword! A weapon!' Bear the same t