el a little frightened. He had been so absorbed in
his Saviour's story that he felt himself to be almost part of it. He
had written it all day, and dreamed of it all night. He had been in
the stable at Bethlehem, he had wandered by the Lake of Gennesaret, and
spent nights in the wilderness of Judaea. He had journeyed to Sidon,
and across the mountains to Jerusalem. He, a prisoner in jail and
sentenced to death, had stood on the Mount of Olives, he had been in
Bethany and supped at Jesus' side. But now he felt almost indifferent
to the thought. Had he not lived through that glorious death at
Golgotha? All else sank into insignificance beside that. It almost
seemed to him as if he had passed beyond the veil. The Risen One
possessed all his soul. He could not get away from all these holy
memories. Then suddenly came the thought: when death comes I must be
brave. He remembered a story his mother had once told him of a Roman
executioner who, on receiving orders to behead a young Christian, had
been so overcome with pity that he had fainted. The youth had revived
him, and comforted him as bravely as if it had been his duty to die, as
it was the executioner's to kill. But then Conrad told himself: you
are a guilty creature, and cannot compare yourself with a saint. Would
you be brave enough to act like that? Would you? It is sweet to die
with Jesus, but it is still sweeter to live with Him.

The jailer asked him if he would care to go out once more into the open
air.

Out into the air? Out into the prison yard, where all the refuse was
thrown? No. He thanked him; he would prefer to remain in his cell.
It could not be for long now.

"No; it will not be for long now," said the old man. But he did not
tell him that in the meantime the Chancellor had died of his wounds,
although from the "old grumbler's" increased tenderness Conrad might
have suspected that his case did not stand in a favourable light.

"If you are truly brave," the old man told him, "the next time you go
out you shall walk under green trees."

"But now? Not now?" Conrad thought of a reprieve, and grew excited.
A red flush stained his cheeks.

"No; I did not mean that. You know the King is far away. But it may
come any time. I am waiting for it anxiously. You know, Ferleitner,
after this I shall resign my post."

At that moment the priest came in. He always entered the dark cell
with a cheerful face and a glad "God be with you!