Pressing him closely, Bucholz admitted, with a forced smile, that on the day before, he had been reading Schiller's play of "The Robbers," and that becoming excited by the heroic action of "Carl von Moor," he had thoughtlessly plunged his penknife, which he had in his hand at the time, into his own side.

The blade had touched a rib, however, and that prevented the wound from being very serious.

The blood had flowed copiously from the incision thus made, and the wound was even now very painful.
Sommers, at a glance, saw through this flimsy pretext, and realized at once what had happened.

The miserable man, nervous and excited, had, in the excess of fear, attempted to take his own life.

The grim specters of the night were too horrible to endure, and he had sought to escape their torments by the act which he had attempted.
His shirt had been saturated with blood, and he had been compelled to destroy it to prevent detection.
Sommers lectured him roundly upon this exhibition of weakness, and, after a time spent in friendly advice, he succeeded in reassuring him.
Bucholz related to him at this interview a dream which he said he had the evening before.