Landolin

"Mother, I'm a burden to you. It makes me ashamed."

"You're not a burden to me, and you shouldn't be ashamed to stay with your mother. What have I left in the world if you go away? I shall never want to get up again. I shall never want to make the fire. If you go away you must take me along."

"We'll see, mother. But first, I will have my pay from Landolin; this very day I will have it."

With these words he tore himself away, and hurried to the farm-house.

CHAPTER XV

Just as the farmer's wife had expected, many people returning from the fair, and many too who had not been there, came to offer their good wishes upon Thoma's betrothal. She made them welcome, and invited them to eat and drink.

When Landolin reached home his greeting to the guests was cool and careless, and he did not look at all like the father of a girl who had just been happily betrothed to her lover.

People said afterward that they knew then from his manner what he was likely to do. But who knows whether they were really so wise?

Landolin said to his wife:

"Stop feeding these people. Start them off. Don't be so friendly and talkative with the herd. It's impudence for them to come to me with good wishes. I don't want their good wishes."

He then went across the yard and stood awhile by the dog. Yes, he even spoke to him. "You're right, you should have been with me. Such fellows don't deserve a word. They ought to have a dog set on them."

Then Vetturi rushed into the yard, bareheaded, and called out: "Farmer! for the last time I say, I want my pay, my money."

"What? You want anything from me! March out of this yard at once. Off with you! What? You're standing there yet? Once for all, go, or I'll make you!"

"I won't go."

"Shall I untie the dog and set him on you?"

"You needn't untie the dog. You're a dog yourself."

"I'm what?"

"What I just said."

"Vetturi, you know I have a hand like iron. Go! Go, or I'll knock you down so you'll never move again."

"Do it! Kill me! You man-skinner, you-"

A stone was thrown; there was a shriek; a moan was heard that even hushed the barking of the dog. Vetturi fell down, groaned once, and then lay motionless.

Anton and Thoma had come to the open gate. They stood there as if rooted to the spot.

"For God's sake! What has happened?" Anton cried, and hastened to the prostrate form. But Thoma stood still, and fixed her gaze on her father, who was tearing open his vest, and loosening his collar.

Controlling herself with a violent effort, Thoma went up to her father, who was staring into his open hands.

"Father! What have you done?" cried she. He looked at her. There was a terrible change in his face. Is this the look of a man at the moment that he has killed another?

Thoma laid her hand on his shoulder. He shook it off and said: "Let me alone." He was afraid of her, and she of him.

At this moment it came to pass that father and daughter lost each other.

"He's dead! His skull is broken!" called the hostler, Fidelis, who, with Anton, had lifted Vetturi up.

With eyes cast on the ground, Thoma went to the house. Landolin left the yard, and went to the spring on the other side of the road.

The people in the house, who had come to give their congratulations, hastened out. With lamentation and mourning they carried Vetturi home to his mother.

Landolin's yard was suddenly still and forsaken; only a little pool of blood, near the heap of paving-stones, showed what had happened there. The sparrows and chickens had gathered round. The head-servant Tobias drove them off, and quickly swept everything away. He then threw the stone and the broom into the drain.

CHAPTER XVI

When Anton returned Landolin was still at the spring, holding his hands under its broad stream of water.

"How is it?" he asked, turning round.

"He is dead; he gives no sign of life," replied Anton.

Landolin shook the water from his hands fiercely, and shaking his head slowly, said:

"You saw it, Anton? You had just come up. The stone didn't touch him; he fell down at the sound of my voice."

Before Anton could reply, Landolin asked: "Was his mother at home?"

"Yes, she had just come in, and it was terrible when she threw herself on her son's body and cried out: 'Vetturi! open your eyes, Vetturi! Open your mouth, here is some brandy! Drink, do drink!'"

"I, too, must drink something," replied Landolin; and placing his lips to the trough, he drank long. Indeed, it was plain that he purposely allowed the water to splash into his face, and as he slowly wiped it dry, he said:

"Go to Thoma, now! I'll soon follow you."

Anton obeyed. He found Thoma standing near the porch by the flowers, picking off the dead leaves of the rosemary, the yellow jessamine, and the carnations. She did not look round.

"Thoma, here I am; don't you see me?" cried he.

"Yes, I see you," answered Thoma. Her voice and her face, which she now turned toward Anton, were changed; and her eyes, which before had been so fearless, now wandered uneasily here and there.

"I see you," she continued, "I see the flowers, I see the trees and the sky. Everything pretends to be alive, but everything is dead."

"Thoma, you are always so strong and resolute. Control yourself. I know it is sad and distressing, but for the sake of a person who is dead-"

"It is not only that a person has been killed; he, you, I, my father, all, all have received a deathblow."

"Thoma, don't excite yourself so, you are always so sensible. You know I have been in the war, and have seen many-"

"Yes, yes, it is true; you too have killed men. When he was still alive you were so tender-hearted toward him, and now that he is dead you are so hard. Say, am I still in my right mind?"

"You are, if you will only control yourself."