He simply sat down as comfortably as possible, without the usual stiffness of his body, and surveyed the walls and the bars with a faint and gentle, strange, un-Werner-like smile.

Still another new thing happened to Werner,--something that had never happened to him before: he suddenly started to weep.
"My dear comrades!" he whispered, crying bitterly.

"My dear comrades!" By what mysterious ways did he change from the feeling of proud and boundless freedom to this tender and passionate compassion?
He did not know, nor did he think of it.

Did he pity his dear comrades, or did his tears conceal something else, a still loftier and more passionate feeling ?-His suddenly revived and rejuvenated heart did not know this either.

He wept and whispered: "My dear comrades! My dear, dear comrades!" In this man, who was bitterly weeping and smiling through tears, no one could have recognized the cold and haughty, weary, yet daring Werner--neither the judges, nor the comrades, nor even he himself..