A captive condemned to perpetual incarceration broke out of prison and
started to run at a headlong pace.... After him, on his very heels,
darted the pursuit.
He ran with all his might.... His pursuers began to fall behind.
But lo! in front of him was a river with steep banks,--a narrow, but
deep river.... And he did not know how to swim!
From one shore to the other a thin, rotten board had been thrown. The
fugitive had already set foot upon it.... But it so happened that just
at this point, beside the river, his best friend and his most cruel
enemy were standing.
The enemy said nothing and merely folded his arms; on the other hand,
the friend shouted at the top of his voice:--"Good heavens! What art
thou doing? Come to thy senses, thou madman! Dost thou not see that
the board is completely rotten?--It will break beneath thy weight, and
thou wilt infallibly perish!"
"But there is no other way of crossing ... and hearest thou the
pursuit?" groaned in desperation the unhappy wight, as he stepped upon
the board.
"I will not permit it!... No, I will not permit thee to perish!"--roared
his zealous friend, snatching the plank from beneath the feet of the
fugitive.--The latter instantly tumbled headlong into the tumultuous
waters--and was drowned.
The enemy smiled with satisfaction, and went his way; but the friend sat
down on the shore and began to weep bitterly over his poor ... poor
friend!
"He would not heed me! He would not heed me!" he whispered dejectedly.
"However!" he said at last. "He would have been obliged to languish all
his life in that frightful prison! At all events, he is not suffering
now! Now he is better off! Evidently, so had his Fate decreed!
"And yet, it is a pity, from a human point of view!"
And the good soul continued to sob inconsolably over his unlucky friend.
December, 1878.