"Dietrich from Tannenegg," said the servant.

"He back again? No, I'm too old and too tired for that. They ought to give him a good beating if they can catch him; it would serve him right."

Dietrich stepped up to the door himself.

"It is not for me, doctor," said he humbly, "it is for my mother; she is very ill indeed. For G.o.d's sake, doctor, come and help her!"

"That's another thing altogether; she is a brave woman, who has been doing your work for you," said the voice from within the room. Pretty soon the doctor came out, and when Dietrich described his mother's condition, he took some medicines with him and started out.

"I have no horse to use to-night; mine has done a hard day's work and must have his rest. We shall have to go up the hill afoot."

As they crossed the open s.p.a.ce in front of the house, he continued,

"I remember once how on this very spot once a little boy stood up in front of me, and when I asked him if he would like some day to take care of a horse, answered, 'No, I want a horse of my own.' I thought he had a good purpose in view if he would only pursue it the right way. But it does not do to want to begin by being a gentleman. First come work, and service for us all, then mastership may follow. Whoever tries to begin at the end, will end at the beginning; which is not a good nor an agreeable method. Am I right or wrong, Dietrich?"

"You are right, doctor. If one could only look ahead!" answered Dietrich.

"Yes, that would help; but as we cannot, we must trust those who are our friends, and who have gone before us in the right way, and can show us the road; like that n.o.ble woman to whom we are now going."

When they entered Gertrude's room they found her asleep. The doctor sat down by the bedside, watched her awhile, and felt her pulse from time to time. Then he arose and turning to Veronica, he said,

"I can do no good here; take care of her; she deserves all you can do, but the lamp of life burns low, and will soon go out altogether. She has had a hard lot; trouble wears faster than years."

With these words the doctor went to the door. He did not even glance towards Dietrich, who threw himself on his knees by the bedside of his dying mother, sobbing out:

"O G.o.d in Heaven, do not let her die! Let her come back! Let her have a little comfort in this world! Punish me as I deserve, but oh! let my mother live!"

Gertrude opened her eyes. She grasped the hand of her sobbing son, which lay upon hers, and held it tightly clasped; while she whispered softly:

"Yes, my Dieterli, pray, pray; if you can pray, all will come right again."

She closed her eyes and never spoke again. The hand that held Dietrich's grew cold. Veronica, who had been standing behind Dietrich weeping silently approached the bedside, took Gertrude's other hand in hers, and said between her sobs:

"Sleep well, dear, good mother! Yes, for you 'tomorrow will be fine';" and she left the room.

Two days later Dietrich followed his mother to her last resting place.

There was no need to avoid meeting people now, for every one knew that the true thief had been discovered. But no hope was left to him in his home. When he returned from the funeral, and went into the house, he knew that he had no right there, for it no longer belonged to him. He went to his room, strapped on his heavy knap-sack, and came down stairs. Veronica was alone in the sitting-room. She stood leaning against the window, her eyes fixed on the church-yard beyond, where the mother lay sleeping.

He entered the room. "Veronica, give me your hand once more. I am going,"

he said, coming towards her.

"Where are you going, Dietrich?" she asked in a voice that was wholly without feeling; and the cold tone seemed to stab the young man's heart as with a knife. "It is all one to her;" he thought.

"I am going out into the world. I am going to work to pay my debts. I have no home; and as there is no one on earth who cares for me, I can bear my burden better anywhere than here."

"Then go, in G.o.d's name," said Veronica, and she held out her hand to him.

This was too much for Dietrich. He made one struggle for self-control and then broke down completely.

"Can you let me go so coolly, Veronica? not one kindly word for me? If I might stay here with you, I would work day and night like the meanest servant; I would do anything and everything for you. But no! I must go! I could not bear it! How could I stay and see you give yourself to some one else--I who have lost you,--lost you forever!"

The young man threw himself into a chair, buried his face in his hands, and cried like a child.

Veronica was as white as snow. She went to his side, and laid her hand upon his shoulder.

"Dietrich," she said softly, "if you feel in this way, why don't you ask me how I feel, when I think of living on here alone when you have gone; when you have left me perhaps forever?"

Dietrich raised his eyes to hers. A look lay there, a look such as he had dreamed of in his banishment. He sprang to his feet, and seized her hand.

"Veronica, can you love me? can you trust me?"

She did not withdraw her hand, and looked him full in the eyes.

"I have always loved you, Dietrich," she said, "and if I know that you can pray again to G.o.d, and promise to live a life acceptable to Him, I can trust you too."

The young man pressed her to his heart. "Is it true, is it possible?" he cried. "Oh Veronica, can it be true?"

But suddenly he started back, and said in a frightened tone,

"No, I dare not. I cannot. Who am I? I am nothing; I have nothing, less than nothing; and I know what you are and how far above me. Jost wrote me that there was no hope for me. I wanted to make you so happy--I meant to get money and provide all sorts of beautiful things for you and to make you the happiest woman in the world. And now! now I am a beggar, and a miserable creature into the bargain."

Veronica shook her head.

"You do not understand what happiness really is, Dietrich. I have been searching for it longer than you have, and you may believe me that it is not what you think. It is not something at a distance, far beyond our reach; we may find it while we are at work. We are not beggars; this house is ours, and we can still live in it. But, Dietrich, we will try to find the way that our mother went; that is the true way to happiness and peace in life and death."

"We will," cried Dietrich, with solemn joy; and as he clasped Veronica again to his heart, there was that in his face and in his voice which a.s.sured her that he would never leave her again, and that they would walk in that true way of happiness and peace together.

At this moment Judith burst into the room. When she saw the faces of the two who stood before her, she stood stock still with surprise! She immediately took in the situation.

"So! So! this is something that delights one's very heart!" she cried, and her face beamed with satisfaction. "But look out of the window! I came to tell you! You can say good-bye to that rascal forever."

They stepped together to the window which looked out upon the road. Jost was just going by. His hands were bound together, and he was followed by the Constable, who hurried him along. Jost looked up at the window and shrank back at what he saw; but the man drove him on.

"What does it mean?" asked Dietrich and Veronica in the same breath, turning to Judith.

"It is what was bound to come," she explained. "Everything is found out.

They seized the red fellow first, after I succeeded in getting it through the cattle-dealer's thick head that he was the man to get hold of. When they had driven the red man into a corner, so that he couldn't lie himself out of it, he turned against Jost, and declared that Jost had planned the whole thing and that he himself had only played second-fiddle. Which can lie the worst, no one can tell, but that they are both reaping what they have sown, is certain enough. And now we're to have a wedding, are we? and our Dietrich is going to settle down into regular home life again.

Welcome, neighbors; we will live in friendship together all our days." And Judith shook hands cordially with them both, and hastened away to spread through the neighborhood the good news of the coming marriage.

It is now ten years since Dietrich and Veronica left the church of Tannenegg where they had been made one, and the blessing had been p.r.o.nounced upon their united lives. They went first to the little church yard and knelt by the new made grave covered with flowers. With tearful eyes, and with sad regrets in their happy hearts, they said,

"If she could only have lived to see us now!"

Today there is no more beautiful flower-garden in all Tannenegg, than that about Dietrich's pretty white house. Within the house all is so fresh and charming from top to bottom, that one who enters it finds it difficult to get away again from its hospitable shelter.

Dietrich has built a fine large work-room; and there he sits and works, industrious and happy, or he goes about his outside affairs in a steady business-like manner. Often he has to go to Fohrensee and even farther; for his trade is prosperous beyond compet.i.tion and his work is recognized far and wide as of unrivalled excellence.

On Veronica's face lies such a sunshine of constant happiness as is good to look upon. She has given up her position in the school at Fohrensee; her place is with her husband and children; but she does not for all that sit with her hands in her lap; her orderly well-kept house, and her blooming well-behaved children bear witness to her faultless management as well as to her care and industry, and at the great annual Fair in the city, if any one inquires about some wonderfully fine and beautiful embroidery on exhibition, the answer invariably is, "that is the work of Veronica of Tannenegg."