To-morrow, then!
The sentence is spoken.
The accused was calmer than the judge. All those present, except his
bitter enemy, were affected almost to tears. Some whispered that the
punishment was too severe.
May God be a milder judge to me than I, poor sinner, am forced to be
to my fellow men.
She has been here. She found me ill in bed. There is no escape
possible. He will not flee. Everything was arranged and the jailer was
ready to help. But he refuses, he longs for death. God be merciful to
the poor girl. How will she survive the terrible day? I am ill in body
and soul, I can neither aid nor comfort her. There is no word from the
brother.
I feel that I am near death myself, as near perhaps as he is, whom I
sent to his doom. Farewell, my own beloved bride.... What will she do?
she is so strangely calm--the calm of wordless despair. Her brother
has not yet come, and to-morrow--on the Ravenshill----!
Here the diary of Erik Sörensen stopped suddenly. What followed can be
learned from the written and witnessed statements of the pastor of
Aalsö, the neighboring parish to Veilbye.