I had buried my money in a safe place and there was nothing in the house except a loaf of bread and a few small coins, barely enough to last three days.

The child was always before my eyes; I saw him ragged, begging, starving.
But my anxiety tortured me most, after they had released me and I was going back to my house from the castle.

It was a walk of two hours, but each one seemed as long as St.John's day.

Should I find Ulrich or not?
What had become of him?
It was already dark, when I at last stood before the house.

Everything was as silent as the grave, and the door was locked.