Part 100 (1/2)

Although she had not intended it, Irma's praise was, to a certain extent, patronizing, and Hansei had observed this. He would have confirmed her opinion by his answer, and would have liked to ask: ”Have you known her long?” but he remembered that he had promised to ask no questions. Walpurga was right; it was a hard task. He rolled his tongue about in his mouth, and felt as if the one-half of it were tied.

”The country's pretty rough hereabouts; further up, when you reach our new home, it's much better,” said he, at last. It was long before he could say that. He had intended to ask whether the stranger had ever been in that neighborhood before; but he had promised to ask no questions, and to transpose one's questions is not so easy a task.

Irma felt that she must say something that would put the man at his ease, and she began: ”Hansei!”--his face brightened when he heard her calling him by name--”Hansei, try to think that you've known me for ever so long; don't look at me as a stranger. I don't like to ask anything of others; but I do ask this of you. I know you'll do it; for you've a good, kind face. And it couldn't be otherwise; Walpurga's husband, with whom she is so happy, must be a good man. I beg of you, therefore, don't be concerned; I'll not be a burden to you.”

”Oh, there's no idea of such a thing. We've enough, thank G.o.d. One cow more in the stable, or one person more in the house, won't make any difference; so you needn't worry about that.--And we've also taken charge of an old pensioner on the estate and--I don't want to know what you don't want to tell, and if any one in this world offers to harm you, call me, and I'll defend you with my life. But it seems you haven't been much among the mountains; so let me give you a piece of advice. In climbing mountains, the rule is: Go right on, and never stop.”

They waited for the wagon. Hansei drew a long breath after his long speech. He felt satisfied with himself, and looked about him with a self-complacent air.

Irma sat down by the wayside. She was now on the heights which, on the evening before, she had seen all aglow with the rosy sunset, and then fading away in the pale mists. The giant peaks that she had beheld from afar were now near, and seemed still vaster than before. Here and there in the woods, there was a clearing of meadow and field, and now and then, a house was visible. Looking down, she caught glimpses of the foaming, sparkling forest stream, so far below them that they could scarcely hear its roar.

Hansei walked at Irma's side without uttering a word.

The wagon overtook them. Irma got in again, Hansei a.s.sisting her quite politely. He was about to lift his hat to her, when, with cheerful word and glance, she thanked him.

”She's a very decent person,” said Hansei to his wife, ”and we've a nice little room for her, too, if she isn't afraid of the old pensioner.”

Walpurga felt happy that the great point was gained.

As Hansei had talked with the stranger, the little pitchman thought himself ent.i.tled to say something, too; and, as the first sign of his resolve, he cracked his whip so loudly that the sound was echoed back from the valley and the mountains.

”Didn't I tell you to be quiet?” said the old woman.

”She--she's well again,” replied the little pitchman. ”Isn't it so?”

said he, addressing Irma. ”The noise don't hurt you?”

Irma told him not to put himself out on her account, and, emboldened by her answer, he inquired:

”What's your name?”

”Irmgard.”

”Indeed! why, that was my wife's name, and, if you've no objection, I'll marry an Irmgard again. I've got half of a house and a whole goat.

I owe something on the house, but the goat's paid for. Say! will you have me?”

”Don't make such jokes, Peter,” cried Beate, nothing loth, however, to hear pleasantry from some quarter.

The little pitchman laughed heartily, and was well pleased with himself. Yes, Hansei was now the freehold farmer, but still he couldn't talk to people the way he could. The little pitchman was quite entertaining. When he had nothing more to say, he would gather strawberries, which grew by the wayside and, in this high region, did not ripen until late. He laid them on a hazel leaf and offered them to Irma. Yes, Peter has good manners; he could tell that by his sister's face, for she smiled her approval.

The journey to their new home proceeded without further adventure. When they came in sight of their native village, and before they had had reached the boundary line, the grandmother requested them to stop. She alighted, went into the woods, knelt down until her face touched the ground, and exclaimed:

”G.o.d be praised, I'm with thee again! Keep me well, let me and mine pa.s.s many peaceful, happy days on thee, and, when my last hour comes, receive me kindly.”

She went back to the wagon, and said: ”G.o.d be with you all! now we're at home. Do you see that house up there, with the big linden tree?

That's the freehold farm, where we're to live.”

Gundel and the child alighted, Irma alone remaining in the wagon. All the others walked the rest of the way.