The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries Volume Viii Part 21

"That is the greatest praise that anybody in the world could give me!"

Barefoot declared. "I still have a keepsake from your mother." And then she related the incident of their meeting his mother, and both laughed when Barefoot told how Damie could not forget that Dame Landfried owed him a pair of leather-breeches.

"And he shall have them," John declared.

They then walked back together as far as the village, and John gave her his hand when he bade her "Good night." Barefoot wanted to tell him that he had shaken hands with her once before, but, as if frightened by the thought, she fled away from him and ran into the house; she did not even return his "Good night." John, puzzled and thoughtful, returned to his room at the "Heathc.o.c.k."

The next morning Barefoot found that the swelling in her face had vanished as if by magic. And never had she caroled more gaily through the house and yard, through the stable and barn, than she did today. And yet today was the day when it was to be decided, the day that John was to declare himself. Farmer Rodel did not want to have his sister talked about by any one, in case it should all come to nothing after all.

Nearly the whole day John sat in the room with Rose, who was making a man's shirt. Toward evening Mistress Rodel's parents came, along with other relatives. It must be decided one way or the other today.

The roast was sputtering in the kitchen, the pine wood cracking and snapping, and Barefoot's cheeks were glowing, heated by the fire on the hearth and the fire that was burning within her. c.r.a.ppy Zachy walked back and forth and up and down with an air of great importance, and made himself very much at home--he even smoked Farmer Rodel's pipe.

"Then it is settled after all," said Barefoot to herself, mournfully.

Night had come. Many lights were burning in the house, and Rose, in festive attire, was hurrying back and forth between the room and the kitchen, though she did not know how to give any help. Everything was ready.

And now the young farmer's wife said to Barefoot:

"Go upstairs and put on your Sunday dress."

"Why?"

"You must wait on the table today, and you'll get a better present."

"I would rather stay in the kitchen."

"No, do as I tell you--and make haste."

Amrei went up to her room and sat down for a moment on her box in order to get her breath. She was dead tired. If she could only go to sleep now and never wake up again! But duty called. Hardly had she taken the first piece of her Sunday dress in her hand, when a feeling of joy came over her; and the evening sun, sending a red beam into the little attic, shone upon a pair of glowing cheeks.

"Put on your Sunday dress!" She had but one Sunday dress, and that was the one she had worn that day at the wedding in Endringen. Every flutter, every rustle of the dress reminded her of the happiness she had experienced, and of the waltz she had danced on that eventful day. But as darkness followed the setting of the sun, so did sorrow follow gladness; and she said to herself that she was thus adorning herself only to do honor to John, and to show how much she valued whatever came from his family, she at last put on the necklace.

Thus, adorned as she had been on the day of the wedding at Endringen, Amrei came down from her room.

"What is this? What did you dress yourself up like that for?" cried Rose angrily. She was already anxious and impatient because the visitor was so long in making his appearance. "Why do you put all your possessions on? Is that a fit necklace for a servant, with a coin hanging to it? You take that off directly!"

"No, I shall not do that; for his mother gave it to me when I was a little child, and I had it on when we danced together at Endringen."

Something was heard to fall on the staircase; but n.o.body heeded it, for Rose screamed out:

"What! You good-for-nothing, horrible witch! You would have perished in rags if we had not taken you up! And now you want to take my betrothed from me!"

"Don't call him that until he is your betrothed," replied Amrei, with a strange mixture of feelings in her voice.

"Wait! I'll show you what you've got to do!" shrieked Rose. "Take that!" and she dragged Barefoot down to the ground and struck her in the face.

"I'll take my things off! Let me go!" screamed Barefoot.

But Rose let go before she had finished saying it; for, as if he had risen out of the ground, John was standing before her! He was as pale as death, and his lips were quivering. He could not speak, but merely raised his hand to protect Barefoot, who was still kneeling on the floor.

Barefoot was the first to speak; she cried out:

"Believe me, John, I have never seen her like that before, never in my whole life! And it was my fault."

"Yes, it was your fault. And, now, come; you shall go with me and be mine. Will you? I have found you, and I did not seek you. But now you shall live with me and be my wife. It is G.o.d's will."

If any one could have seen Barefoot's eyes then! But no mortal eye has ever fully seen a flash of lightning in the heavens, for no matter how firmly we look, our eyes are sure to be dazzled. And there are also flashes in the human eye which are never fully seen, just as there are workings in the human heart which are never fully understood. A momentary flash of joy, such as may brighten the face when the heavens are opened, darted from Amrei's eyes. She covered her face with both hands, and the tears ran forth from between her fingers.

John stood with his hand upon her. All the relatives had gathered around, and were gazing with astonishment at the strange scene.

"What's all this with Barefoot? What's all this?" bl.u.s.tered Farmer Rodel.

"So, your name is Barefoot?" cried John. He laughed loud and heartily, and added: "Come, now, will you have me? Say so now, for here we have witnesses to confirm it. Say 'Yes,' and nothing but death shall part us!"

"Yes!--and nothing but death shall part us!" cried Barefoot, throwing herself on his neck.

"Very well--then take her out of this house at once!" roared Farmer Rodel, foaming with rage.

"Yes, you need not tell me to do that. I thank you for your good reception, cousin. When you come to us some day, we'll make it quits,"

replied John. He put both hands up to his head, and cried: "Good heavens! Mother, mother, how glad you will be!"

"Go up, Barefoot, and take your box away at once; for nothing belonging to you shall remain in my house!" commanded Farmer Rodel.

"Very well," replied John; "but that can be done with less noise. Come, Barefoot, I'll go with you. But tell me what your real name is."

"Amrei."

"I was once to have married an Amrei--she is the 'b.u.t.ter Countess!'--you are my Salt Countess! Hurrah! Now come; I should like to see your room, where you have lived so long. Now you shall have a large house!"

The dog, with the hairs on his back standing up like bristles, kept walking around Farmer Rodel; he saw that the latter would have been glad to choke John. Only when John and Barefoot were at the top of the stairs did the dog come running after them.

John let the box stand, because he could not take it on his horse. But they packed Barefoot's possessions into the sack which she had inherited from her father.

As they were descending the stairs together on their way out, Barefoot felt somebody quietly press her hand in the dark--it was her mistress who was thus taking leave of her. At the threshold, with her hand upon the door-post against which she had so often leaned, she said sadly:

"May G.o.d reward this house for all good, and forgive it for all evil!"

They had gone but a few paces when Barefoot called out: "Good heavens! I have forgotten all my shoes! They are upstairs on the shelf!"

Scarcely had she spoken the words, when the shoes, as if they were running after their owner, came flying out of the window and down into the street.

"Run to the devil in them!" cried a voice from the garret window. The voice sounded masculine, and yet it belonged to Rose.

Barefoot collected the shoes and took them to the tavern with John, who carried the sack on his back.

The moon was shining brightly, and the whole village was already asleep.

Barefoot would not stay at the tavern.