Читать книгу Landolin - Auerbach Berthold - Страница 9

The hostess of the "Sword" – it so happens that every one speaks of the hostess and not of the host, and her husband seems to be quite satisfied with it-this wise woman, according to a plan of her own, had changed and enlarged the old inn until it was twice as large as before. For, as soon as a spot had been fixed upon for a railway station, she had a new building added on the side toward the river, with a large summer hall and verandas, where the people of rank in the village could hold their summer gatherings in the open air. The corner room of the house, on the town side, she arranged especially for betrothal festivities. There was a great mirror, in which people could survey themselves at full length-to be sure not always an advantage. There were colored prints of young lovers, of marriages, of christenings, and of golden weddings.

At the table sat the miller and Landolin's wife, and waited long for the farmer. The miller was annoyed, and Landolin's wife did not know what to say, for she could not deny that her husband probably kept the miller waiting intentionally, in order to show him who was the more important.

The miller had an earnest, good-natured face, and a thoughtfulness in every word and gesture. He had a high regard for the farmer's wife, and expressed it to her. She looked down, abashed, for she was not used to being praised, and became silent. The miller, too, ceased talking, and whistled gently to himself.

At length Landolin's step was heard, and following him came Thoma and Anton. Landolin shook hands with the miller.

"I have been waiting a long time," the miller said.

Landolin did not consider it necessary to excuse himself; he thought people must be satisfied with all he did, and the way in which he did it.

The miller poured out some of the wine which stood on the table, and, after touching glasses, Landolin said:

"We have really nothing more to arrange. You know what division Peter must make when he takes the estate. The money I have promised I will pay down the day before the wedding. The five acres of forest which I have bought, which border on your land, and are properly no part of my farm, I now give to Thoma to be hers in her own right. You have no one but your son, so there is nothing more to be said. Of course, you will not marry again?"

The miller smiled sadly, and said at length:

"Then give your hands to one another in God's name, and may happiness and blessing be yours for all time."

The lovers clasped each other's hands firmly, and so did the fathers and mother.

The betrothed drank from the same glass; and it was a good omen that Thoma did not take from his hand the glass, which Anton held out to her, but drank whilst he held it.

Landolin might have spoken, but he remained silent. It is not necessary for him to speak. Is he not Landolin? He even looked suspiciously at the miller. He did not esteem him highly, for every one praised his good nature, and Landolin was inclined to consider good nature as one kind of rascality.

"Father-in-law," said Anton, "whenever you come to our house you will find joy there, for as surely as our brook will never flow up the mountain side, so surely will Thoma's thoughts never turn toward her old home in discontent."

Landolin opened his eyes at this speech; but his only answer was a tap on the shoulder. The miller said, with a trembling voice:

"Yes, yes; 'twill be beautiful to have a young woman in our house once more."

"Thoma will hold you in all honor," said the farmer's wife. "She honors her parents, and that makes sound housewives."

Landolin shrugged his shoulders slightly, when the miller continued:

"I'm very sure, Landolin, that your daughter is not so hot-tempered as you and your side of the house have always been."

Landolin smiled, well pleased that people should think him hot-tempered, for this made them fear and respect him.