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.