Volume Ii Part 10 (2/2)

”So thou art grandfather, who lives up in the northern mountains? G.o.d be with thee, grandfather! But why didst thou not tell me at once? And why didst thou not come through the gate, like other honest folk?”

The old man held his daughter by both hands, and looked inquiringly into her eyes.

”She looks happy and blooming,” he murmured to himself.

Rauthgundis composed herself. She cast a quick look round the hall.

All the spindles had ceased whirling--except Liuta's--all eyes were curiously fixed upon the old man.

”Will you spin directly, curious girls!” cried Rauthgundis reprovingly.

”Thou, Marcia, hast let the flax fell with thy staring; thou knowest the custom--thou wilt spin another spoolful. You others can leave your work. Come, father! Liuta, prepare a tepid bath, and meat and wine----”

”No,” said the old man; ”the old peasant in the mountains has only the waterfall for bath and drink. And as to eating--outside the fence, near the boundary-stone, lies my knapsack; fetch it for me. There I have my wheaten bread and my sheep's-milk cheese.--What cattle hast thou in the stall, and horses in the pasture?”

It was his first question.

An hour after--it was already dark, and little Athalwin had gone to bed, shaking his head over his grandfather--father and daughter wandered into the open air in the light of the rising moon.

”I have not air enough inside,” the old man had said.

They spoke much and earnestly as they walked up and down the court-yard and garden. Between whiles, the old man put questions about the household, such as were suggested by the implements or buildings near him; and in his tone lay no tenderness; only sometimes he secretly examined the countenance of his child with a loving look.

”Do cease talking about rye and horses,” at last said Rauthgundis, ”and tell me how it has gone with thee these long years? And what has at last brought thee down from the mountains to thy children?”

”How has it gone with me? pretty lonely! lonely! and cold winters! Yes, it is not so pleasant and warm up there as here in the Italian valley.”

He spoke as if in reproach.

”Why did I come down? Well, last year the breeding-bull fell down from the _Firn-joch_, and so I wanted to buy another here.”

Rauthgundis could no longer contain herself; she affectionately embraced the old man and cried:

”And no bull was to be found nearer than here? Do not lie, father, to thine own heart and to thine own child. Thou art come because thou couldst not help it, because thou couldst no more endure thy longing for thy child!”

The old man stroked her hair.

”How dost thou know that? Well, yes, I wanted to see how it went with thee, and how _he_ keeps thee--the Gothic Earl!”

”Like the apple of his eye!” cried Rauthgundis joyfully.

”Indeed? Why, then, is he not at home with wife and child in his house and farm?”

”He serves in the King's army.”

”Yes, that is just it! What has he to do with service and a king? But, tell me, why dost not wear a golden bracelet? A Gothic woman once came our way from the Italian valleys, five years ago; she had gold a hand broad. Then I thought, such thy daughter wears. And I was pleased, and now----”

Rauthgundis smiled.

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