"Well, that is not a person, as you think," Kaetheli explained. "Do you see, there is a money box with money in it for the people who are poor and miserable and homeless."

Erick grew purple.

"I am not going to be auctioned," he said defiantly.

"Yes, indeed, Erick, that cannot be helped. One has to obey before one is confirmed. If you do not obey, then someone just puts you on his shoulder and takes you to the auction room."

After Kaetheli had instructed Erick in what was coming to him, she bade him good-night and went her way. Erick stayed on the same spot and did not move. He had become deathly pale and his blue eyes flashed defiance and indignation, which had never been seen in this sunny face. Thus Erick stood on the same spot when Churi came by on his way home.

"Have they made you angry, velvet panty? I never have seen you so mad,"

he exclaimed and stopped near the hedge.

He received no answer.

"You join us in the fight and strike hard; that will relieve your feelings."

Erick shook his head.

"Don't be such a sneak, and say something. The fellow who has made you wrathful will no doubt be there, then you can get at him."

"It is no boy," grumbled Erick.

"So, who then, perhaps Kaetheli?"

"I will not go to be auctioned," Erick burst out and his anger flashed as never before.

"Well, well, is that all. That is nothing," Churi thought. "You just come with us and you will forget the auction on the spot. Or are you afraid of the thrashing, you fine velvet pants? Do you know what? I could tell you something that would suit you?"

Churi had caught an idea: he had heard something of some danger that was lurking among the Mayor's grapes, and the others too knew something about it; so he reckoned that none of the others would go first and he himself would prefer to have some other fellow first find out whether a trap was laid somewhere, in which the first one would fall, while the rest would be warned. For this post of inspection Erick fitted splendidly.

"Well, will you?" he urged the silent Erick.

But the latter shook his head negatively.

"And if I help you so that you need not be auctioned, will you then?"

"How can you do that?" Erick asked doubtingly.

"As soon as I want to," boasted Churi. "Don't you know that my father is the sergeant here? He goes into every house along the whole mountain, far beyond Lower Wood, and he knows all the people and can place you where he likes. You only need to say what you want to do: take care of the cows, deliver letters, push little children along in their carriages--whatever you like best."

Erick had never heard lying, he did not know what it was. He believed word for word what the swaggering Churi told him. He considered a moment and then he asked: "What shall I have to do for that?"

"Something which you yourself will find more merry than anything you ever did. You can go with me and the officers in the morning. You are the scout and always go first to see whether the land is clear and safe for us and where we can best pitch our tents and give battle. But one thing I have to tell you: you have to obey me. I am the general, and if you do not do at once what I tell you, you suffer for it. First we go through a vineyard--"

"One cannot give battle there, nor camp," Erick interrupted.

"That makes no difference," Churi continued, "you listen to what I tell you. You have to go through the vineyard and not make a bit of noise, do you hear? And not run away, else--" Churi lifted his fist threateningly.

"You must not tell anyone where we are going, do you hear?"

"I am not going," said Erick.

"Then go to the auction--that is the best thing for you; I am going now, good night."

But Churi nevertheless remained. The blood again rushed into Erick's cheeks. He hesitated a moment, then he asked: "If I go with you, are you sure that I can get there, where I deliver letters?"

"Of course you can," Churi grumbled.

"Then I will go."

"Give me your hand on it!"

Churi held out his hand and Erick laid his in it. Churi kept hold of the hand. "Promise that you will be there under the apple tree on the meadow at seven o'clock Sunday morning."

"I promise," said Erick.

Churi let go of his hand, said "Good night," and disappeared behind the cottage.

The news of the day spread with wonderful rapidity through the schools of the three parishes. The next evening, the evening before Organ-Sunday, every child in Upper and Lower Wood, and above all, in Middle Lot, knew that the quiet Erick all at once belonged to the rowdies; that he was not only going to fight with them in the Sunday battle, but that he was going with the worst rowdy, with Churi and his companions, early in the morning before church.

Sally came with swollen eyes to supper, for Kaetheli had informed her of everything: how the fine Erick, whom she would so gladly have taken into her home and her friendship, had fallen into the hands of the coa.r.s.e and wicked Churi and would be ruined and led to do all kinds of wicked things by the bad boy. All this made her tender heart ache. She had gone, in the afternoon, to the solitary bench under the apple tree and had wept until supper time; for, in spite of deep thinking, she had not been able to find a way by which she could s.n.a.t.c.h Erick away from the bad companions.

Edi, too, wore a drawn face as though he lived on trouble and annoyance only, and his inner wrath goaded him to unpleasant speeches, for he hardly had taken his seat at table, when he looked across at Sally and said: "You can count to-morrow the blue b.u.mps which your friend Erick will carry home with him, when he begins in the morning before church and serves under Churi."

Not much was needed to make Sally break out. "Yes, I know, Edi, that you would prefer to begin this evening and fight through the whole day to-morrow," she cried, half sobbing, half defiant, looking across the table, "if Papa had not forbidden it."

Edi became flushed, for it came into his mind how long he had searched for an example after which he might take part and yet hold his own before his father.

The latter looked earnestly at him and said: "Edi, Edi, I hope you will try not to be a Pharisee. It is a bad sign for the boy Erick that he has joined the fighters, moreover, and that he has made friends with the very worst rowdy. But, dear Sally, you need not knock your potatoes so roughly about your plate as if they were to blame for all the unpleasant things; eat them peacefully."

But Sally could not swallow anything more. When soon after Edi lay in his bed, he heaved a deep sigh and said: "Everything is over for me, but I will be glad for one thing, that tomorrow comes, because to-morrow is Sunday. You know what we get to-morrow, Ritz?"

"Sunday school."

"No, I don't mean that, I mean something nice."

"But Sunday school is nice."

"No, I don't mean that either, I mean something which one can use very well, when no other pleasure comes along."

"An oracle," Ritz said quickly, much contented with the delightful prospect.

"Ritz, you do guess such ridiculous things. I have told you that there are no more oracles. There will be apple-cake, that is what I meant,"

Edi said with a sigh, for now he saw again all the things for which he had wished so much more than apple-cake.

"And do you know, Edi," said Ritz, following his own train of thought, "to-morrow Sally will not be able to eat again because Erick gets his b.u.mps; then we will also get her share, and that will make three pieces for each." With these words Ritz turned happily on his side and went to sleep.