The Freedomseeker, page 18, Chapter Two

   HE WAS STILL A CHILD, THE LITTLE ERNST, and did not know what life and death were.
   He felt only that life was warm like the sun outside; the cold breath of death had not yet touched him, even from afar.
   Very soon he was to feel its icy nearness.
   — He was not yet twelve years old when he lost the one who had been the centre of his World and without whom this World could no longer exist.
   His mother's health was indeed undermined, and she died one winter after a long and serious illness. She died resisting and fighting for life to the last breath. She knew that her husband would demand the return of the child and that he would try to bend and mould this child who so far had grown so beautiful and upright; and she saw no possibility of averting this.
   When she realized that death was the stronger she called the boy to her side and spoke to him. She told him everything and would have gone on to exhort him to be good and obedient. But when she saw him standing there, still so small but with understanding already dawning in the childish face, she only said: "You will find things very different there . . . people are not always as they seem, nor as we would like them to be. Always do what your heart tells you is the right thing to do . . .".
   He was stupified. He wandered around as if in search of something which he had lost and which he must find again. He fled from the people who came to the house and would speak to no-one. He had lost not only his mother but his only friend, the only one with whom he could talk as he wished.
   As he at last realized what had happened he was seized with a great fear — the first fear of his life. What were they going to do with him now? . . .

   "I WANT TO STAY HERE!" he cried, when they came to take him away.
   He shouted it over and over again and was still shouting it as they dragged him into the carriage.