"That is nothing but water! But never mind; you're right. You're sharp."

For the first time in many days, father and daughter laughed together, but their laughter soon died away.

CHAPTER LIV.

"The farmer works like a hired man," said the servants and day-laborers on Landolin's farm.

It was true that Landolin was the first up in the morning, and the last abed at night; and that he took hold of the work in the field he had never done before. His appet.i.te was good, and he slept all night without tossing about. He never left the farm, neither week-days nor Sunday; and he did what cost him a great effort: he said in the presence of the servants that Peter should now have the control of everything; for in the few years he had left, he wanted to see with his own eyes how Peter would carry things on after they should be closed forever.

His speech was milder, and his manner less haughty.

He seemed grateful that a heavy storm had pa.s.sed over his house without breaking; for his wife was out of danger. To be sure, she was yet ailing, and had to keep her room; but she seemed to revive when she saw that her husband had discovered the best mode of living; that is--to be independent of the world's opinion, and to keep his own life straight.

She did not know that he had discovered what a treasure he had in his wife, and he did not tell her; for he could not express himself on the subject.

There were but two persons in the house whom he shunned. One of them noticed it, and the other did not. Landolin avoided being in the same field, or at the same work anywhere, with Thoma; for he felt as though he were under a ban whenever she looked at him: and even when he was not looking at her, he thought he could feel her eyes following every motion he made. He could not imagine what more she wanted of him, since she had forbidden his making any effort to arrange matters with Anton.

Since his coming home, and especially since the celebration, Landolin was in the habit of shutting his eyes when he thought he was unnoticed; and even when looking at anyone they winked incessantly, as though they were tired and only kept open by force. A glance that Thoma gave him made him conscious of this habit for the first time, and also apprised him that she knew its cause.

The other person whom Landolin avoided was Tobias; for Peter persisted in saying that Tobias must be sent away. And although Landolin was by no means soft-hearted, especially toward servants, whom, at the best, he considered rascals; yet the thought of this dismissal was painful to him. He could not forget how much Tobias had helped him to his acquittal.

Outside of the house there were two persons whom they would all have been glad to forget entirely. One was Anton. They heard nothing from him directly; for he had gone, with a large raft, down the Rhine to Holland. But all the people who came to the house--and gradually many began coming--expressed their regret that Anton was not to be his son-in-law; and their inquiries as to the cause were unceasing.

Whoever could have observed her closely must have seen that Thoma's eyebrows had sunk a degree lower since Anton went away. He had once told her that his father had often urged him to go to Rotterdam with a raft some time, and get acquainted with the daughters of his business friends there, and look around for a wife. There was already a Dutch woman in the neighborhood--a comfortable, clear-complexioned, good woman, also married to a miller; and Thoma fancied that Anton could be happy with such an honest, careful wife.

The second person whom they would have liked to forget was Cushion-Kate. She lived quietly, and scarcely spoke with any one; but every night she might have been seen with her lantern, at her son's grave. Whenever she met one of Landolin's family, she stopped and stared at them. She never returned their greeting, and always went out of her way to avoid Landolin himself.

Landolin's wife and Thoma had both taken great pains, personally and through friends, to help Cushion-Kate, but she refused everything.

"I will not be bought off by the murderer Landolin," was her invariable answer. She gathered grain in every field except Landolin's. Once, when crossing the bridge, on her way to the mill with her gleanings, she met him on horseback. She sprang before the horse, and cried: "Get off and drown yourself, you murderer! Ride on! Drive on! Whether you ride or drive, you carry your h.e.l.l around with you! Get off and drown yourself!"

"Are you done? Then step out of my way," said Landolin, calmly. But as the old woman still clung to the horse's bridle, he cried angrily:

"Let go, or I'll let you feel my whip or set Racker at you!"

The dog understood his master's words. He set his paws on the woman's shoulders, and snapped at her red kerchief. She stepped back. Landolin made Racker drop the kerchief, and then rode on without a look at the old woman, who picked up her sack of wheat again. At home he did not mention the occurrence.

CHAPTER LV.

It is unfortunate, as every one knows, when two horses. .h.i.tched to the same wagon fail to pull evenly together. But no one can suppose that it is from malicious intention, and either horse might complain that it was all the fault of the other, and that it was only from a surly delight in obstinacy that he didn't put himself to the harness, and so pull the wagon along. But with two persons it is quite different; especially with those who have before pulled so well together as Peter and Tobias. The latter had of course noticed Peter's imperiousness and malignity; but he did not understand it, nor ask the reason for it, for he really gave the matter very little thought. This was no time for bickering and contentions as to which should outrank the other. Tobias thought to himself, "Only wait till after the harvest; then we'll have threshing-time." Peter likewise thought, "Only wait till the harvest is over; then I'll draw my hand over the measure and level it off." Tobias smilingly allowed Peter to give orders; he even scarcely looked up when Peter countermanded those which he had himself given to the servants and day-laborers. It is harvest-time; stormy weather would be injurious now, but a storm between people working together would be still worse.

Tobias gave the servants to understand that he was glad to let the little boy Peter sit in the saddle and manage the whip; for, thanks to his care, the wagon would move on safely.

Matters continued in this way during the whole harvest-time. Peter and Tobias stood opposite one another like two men that, with axes raised, ready to strike each other, wait a moment to draw their breath. When will the blow fall?

Landolin pretended to see or hear nothing that was taking place between the head-servant and his son. He had not had a confidential talk with Tobias since the evening after the trial. But Tobias was not concerned about it. A man does not say to the forest behind his house, "It's right for you to stay there and keep on growing;" and it was just as easy to imagine the mountains moving away with the forest as to think of Tobias leaving the farm, especially since he had helped, so cleverly and well, to have his master acquitted.

But Tobias often looked at his master to see if he would not say a word of reproof to Peter for his overbearing manner.

When Landolin could no longer avoid doing so, he said, shaking his finger and winking confidentially: "Let him alone. A horse that pulls so hard at first will soon let up."

But Peter did not let up. The princ.i.p.al part of the harvest was over.

They were about to take the grain that had been threshed out on rainy days to market. This had been for many years Tobias's undisputed right, but Peter now declared that he would do it alone.

"It's not necessary for me to answer you," replied Tobias. "You are not the master. The farmer and I will show you who is master."

He called Landolin, and made his complaint to him. Landolin took a grain of wheat out of a sack that had just been filled; bit it in two; looked at the white meal, and nodded without giving a reply. But Tobias pressed him for an answer, and demanded to know whether he was in the farmer's service or in Peter's.

"Peter and I are now one and the same," said Landolin, at length, swallowing the grain of wheat, the first that had ripened since spring.

He decided that it would be wisest to side with his son. Tobias could do him no more harm, and one need not be better than all the rest of the world; ingrat.i.tude is the world's wages. But still he did not want to appear ungrateful; so he said, when he had swallowed the wheat, "Be wise, Tobias."

"Wise? Who is master--you or Peter?"

"Peter," Landolin forced himself to say; and then turned away. It may be that Tobias is treated unjustly; it may be. But Landolin must look out for himself first. He thought he had burden enough of his own, without bearing other people's.

He went up the steps and stood on the porch.

Peter was triumphant.

"Did you hear that? Now listen to something more. You may go to-day, or to-morrow, or at this minute; the sooner you go, the better."

Tobias looked toward the stables, toward the barns, and toward the mountains to see if they were not shaking. "So I'm sent away--dismissed? I--by you?"

"Yes, yes, by the little boy you so willingly let play at being master, just for fun. I've calculated what is still coming to you."

"What is coming to me? And what price have you set on what I have done for you? For you, you acquitted man up there!--and for you, you----"

"If you want a witness fee, I'll give you four marks more," said Peter, with a sneer. "We're not afraid of you. Go and say that you gave false testimony, and see what you'll get by that. Father! don't speak--not a word; he has to deal with me."

"Well, it serves me right: I might have known it would be so. The stones that lay here then are now firmly bedded in the pavement; but, Peter, mark my words: Stones will fly through the air at you, till you are dead and buried. I am an innocent child in comparison with you. You will suffer for this."

"Prophesy, if you like. You know from experience what a good prophet you are. You understand what I mean."

Tobias groaned like a goaded bull; he pulled at his clothes; he evidently wanted to rush upon Peter: but Peter stood still and lit a fresh pipe. Tobias clenched his hands upon his breast, and, without another word, went to his room.

CHAPTER LVI.

The wind whistled over the stubble, and when they awoke in the morning, the first snow lay high upon the crest of the mountain. The powerful autumn sun soon melted it, and laughing rills ran down through all the little channels to the river in the valley.