Our narrative must necessarily deal somewhat largely with the interior arrangements and experiences of a prison. Not a very gratifying spectacle certainly, nor one ordinarily calculated to give occasion for many incidents of a pleasurable character, or for those glossed with the tints of romance or gallantry.

How many untouched pillows there are as the sable folds of night gather around the dreary walls of the prison. How many aching hearts and weary brains are waiting and watching for the dawning of the day the coming of the bright rays of the morning, which shall dispel the gloom and despair of their narrow chamber, and gild with golden beauty the darkened corners where, in the solemn hours of the night, lurk the grim specters that were born of their remorse or their fears.

Bucholz passed a sleepless night after the conversation just had with his companion, Edward Sommers; the buoyancy of his hopes was shaken, and between the fitful, restless slumbers, dark dreaming and frowning visitants came to him in all the forbidding presence of accusing spirits.

In the morning he arose unrested and unrefreshed, and as he greeted his friend, the latter detected traces of tears in his eyes, which were shrouded with the dark lines that gave token of a lack of sleep and of intense mental distress.

After the usual morning salutations were exchanged, they partook of their breakfast in silence. Upon the arrival of the hour for the admission of visitors, Paul Herscher, who had testified in regard to the money which Bucholz had given him, was announced as desiring to see the prisoner, and together they went into his cell.

The information which he brought proved to be very important, though not in the least consoling, and appeared to have an effect upon Bucholz far from assuring. It appeared that a severe storm of snow had fallen on the Sunday afternoon following the murder, and which had remained upon the ground in the fields and woods until this time, when the March rains and warm sunshine had caused all traces of it to disappear, leaving the ground uncovered to the bright sunlight of a Spring morning.

On the morning previous to this visit, a farmer engaged in the fields adjoining the farm formerly occupied by Henry Schulte, had discovered a watch lying upon the ground, which had evidently been hidden from view by the snow. This watch had been immediately identified as belonging to the murdered man.

It will be remembered that at the inquest it had been discovered that the watch usually worn by Henry Schulte, had been torn forcibly from the guard around his neck, and from that time all traces of it had disappeared, until this unexpected resurrection from under its covering of snow.

What made this discovery of more importance was the fact that the watch was found, not far from a fence bordering a road along which Bucholz was known to have traveled on the night of the murder while on his way to the village to give the alarm. It verily seemed as though another link had been forged in the chain of evidence that was being drawn around him, and Bucholz realizing this felt his heart sink within him, as he listened to the loquacious visitor who seemed to be very well pleased in having something to tell.

Maintaining his composure, however, he listened to the recital without any evidence of emotion, and not one would have imagined that it had the slightest effect upon him other than that of curiosity, but after Paul Herscher had departed he threw himself upon his bed and sobbed bitterly.

In this condition he was found by Edward Sommers a few minutes afterwards, and almost immediately thereafter he was followed by the stealthy-moving Brown, who, passing the door of the cell occupied by Bucholz, and looking in, had discovered the strange proceedings that were taking place.

Posting himself upon the outside of the cell door Brown endeavored to listen to what ensued between the two men inside, but to his intense chagrin and disappointment he discovered that they were talking in German and he could not understand a word.

Sommers seated himself upon the bed beside his companion, and placing his hand upon his shoulder endeavored to solace him in his apparent distress.

“My dear fellow,” said he, after Bucholz had told him the cause of his tears, “do not be so discouraged.”

“Ah, how can I help it,” replied Bucholz, “when everything seems to be turning against me?”

“Never mind, Bucholz; you have good lawyers, and they will tell you what to do,” said his companion, soothingly. “Now, tell me, my friend, how many people ever saw this watch of Mr. Schulte? If he made no friends, he could not have shown his watch to many people.”

“That is so,” replied Bucholz, eagerly catching at the suggestion, and his face brightened at once. “There is only one person who can identify it the old man’s former servant, Frank Bruner, and he must be got out of the way.”

Sommers gazed at his companion in astonishment. The change in him was wonderful the depression of spirits had disappeared entirely, and this effect had been produced by a proposition to dispose of one who might prove a damaging witness against him. Rather a strange suggestion to come from one who was entirely guiltless of crime!

“You are a great fellow, Sommers,” continued Bucholz, with glee, “and after we get out of this we will have a good time together.”

“What will we do to have a good time?” asked Sommers, rather doubtfully.

“We will go to Australia,” replied the other, in great good humor, “and we will enjoy ourselves there, I can tell you.”

“Yes, but that will take a great deal of money, and where is that to come from?”

“Never you mind about the money; I will fix that all right. I do not intend to work, and you need not do so either.”

Sommers looked up at his friend, who smiled in a peculiar manner, and was about to question him further upon the subject, but at that moment the conversation for that day was interrupted by the announcement of a visit from Mr. Bollman, one of the counsel Bucholz had employed to conduct his case, and who was the only one of the attorneys who made frequent visits to their client.

Sommers bade his friend good morning, and, as he left the cell, he ran forcibly against the listening Brown, who had ensconced himself near the door. The two men glared at each other for a moment, and then, without speaking, each went their separate ways. Sommers determined to keep his eye on this fellow, and dispose of him in a very decisive way should he prove further troublesome.

Thus day by day did the intimacy between Bucholz and Sommers increase, while the watchfulness of Brown had not diminished in the least. He seemed to keep his searching eyes upon the pair, and scarcely any movement was made that escaped his notice.