The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries
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Chapter 771 : Murderer, stand! Or I shoot you down!
[LINDENSCHMIED _hurries across the stage on the
Murderer, stand! Or I shoot you down!
[LINDENSCHMIED _hurries across the stage on the rocky path._ ROBERT _follows him below_.]
ANDREW (_totters after him_).
Be careful, Robert! The man is desperate--it is a matter of life and death.
LINDENSCHMIED.
Stand back! I'll shoot.
ROBERT (_also behind the scenes_).
Down with your gun, and stand!
ANDREW.
He is taking aim--jump aside, Robert!
[_Two shots are heard in succession_.]
Now it is done!
[_Disappears in the bushes_.]
SCENE VIII
_The Manor House_.
_Enter_ STEIN, _uneasy; then_ BASTIAN; _later, the_ PASTOR.
STEIN.
I wonder whether Moller forgot to send some one to look for Robert? Or should the boy--that quarrel with Andrew! Bastian!
[BASTIAN _appears at the door_.]
Where is the bookkeeper?
BASTIAN.
Toward evening he went to the blast-furnace.
STEIN.
Hasn't Robert been home again since noon?
BASTIAN.
Mr. Robert made preparations for a journey, and then went away with Katharine, the Steward's daughter.
[STEIN _makes a sign of dismissal. Exit_ BASTIAN.]
STEIN.
And the pastor--he might have been back long ago.
BASTIAN (_at the door_). The pastor.
STEIN. In the nick of time!
[_The_ PASTOR _appears_.]
STEIN (_shakes hands with him_).
At last! At last! Have you good news?
PASTOR (_shrugging his shoulders_).
It might be better.
STEIN.
Did you meet that hothead, Robert?
PASTOR.
No.
STEIN.
I was in hopes, because you stayed away so long, that you would bring him with you.
PASTOR.
A sick person, to whom I was called while on my way to you, kept me until now.
STEIN.
Then fancy that you are coming from a sick person to one more seriously sick. If impatience, dissatisfaction with oneself, evil presentiments, were diseases, then I should be a dangerous patient.--But your answer--I don't even give you time to catch your breath. [_Motions to him to take a seat; sits down, but rises again_.] If at least I could remain seated!
Six times I mechanically took my hat in my hand; to that extent my old habit of being together with the forester makes my hands and feet twitch worse than the gout. In the meantime a thought struck me--but first of all: How do matters stand with the obstinate old fellow?
PASTOR.