rd, for fear they will answer me with
insult and abuse. I hear that people from all over the valley have gone
to the city to-day, to see Landolin sitting on the prisoner's seat.
Yes, there he sits, and has to let the gentlemen of the court say
everything they can think of right in his face. And everybody rejoices
in it, and yet they themselves are--God forgive me! Yes, so it is, if
anything is wrong with oneself, one tries to find something wrong with
one's neighbor. There stands your arm-chair. Who knows if you will ever
sit in it again, and rest your strong arms and good hands! When will
the door open again and you come in? Hush! Listen Thoma! Don't you hear
something? There is some one at the door! I hear some one breathing. It
might be Cushion-Kate, or is it----Open the door!"

Even Thoma could not shake off her fear; but summoning her courage, she
opened the door, and, with a sigh of relief, cried, "It is Racker."

"Come here," said her mother to the dog, coaxingly. "Do you know what
is the matter with your master to-day? Will he ever see you, and lay
his hand on your head again? Yes, yes; look at me pitifully! If men
were as pitiful as you----"

"You're right, mother," said Thoma at length. "See, mother, everybody
on his way to the field to-day, fills his pitcher at our well, as if
there was water nowhere else. They look toward our house as though they
took pleasure in our misfortune. I wish I could poison the well, so
they would all die! I wish I could poison the whole world!"

The mother longed to soothe her daughter, but dared not try. She was
thankful that Thoma at least spoke, instead of staring silently before
her. And now that Thoma had once broken her silence, she continued:

"Mother, I want to go to the city."

"You, too, will leave me?"

Thoma explained that she would soon return. She only wished to
telegraph to Peter, to report to her the verdict as soon as it should
be rendered, and she would leave word at the telegraph office for the
messenger, the "Galloping Cooper's" brother, to wait all night for the
message.

Her mother took up her prayer-book, and said: "Well, you may go; but
don't hurry too much."

"Come along," Thoma called to the dog, and, with him, hastened out of
doors.

CHAPTER XXV.

At the edge of the forest stands a pine tree, with its top bent down.
Some say that it was struck by lightning; others say a raven has
lighted there so often