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And then, "Farewell home," she said, "for we are strangers even here where we were born." The one protector the two orphans had had on the Village Council was now powerless to do anything for them; old Farmer Rodel was taken seriously ill, and in the night following the stormy meeting he died. Barefoot and Black Marianne were the two people who wept the most at his burial in the churchyard.
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.
A feeling of estrangement made her tremble, when her own uncle thus called her by a wrong name; she very likely felt that there could be no real affection for her in anybody who did not know her name. "If you are my uncle, why don't you know my name?" asked Amrei. "You are a stupid child! Go and offer him your hand immediately!" commanded Farmer Rodel.
"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!"
"Very well," said Amrei, "tomorrow I will bring my bundle. But now I should like to take my bundle with me; give me a bottle of wine, and this meat I will wrap up and take to Marianne and my Damie." They let Amrei have her way; but old Farmer Rodel said to her secretly: "Give me back my sixpence I thought you were going to give it up."
Old Farmer Rodel declared that her laughter sounded like the song of a quail, and because she was always serviceable and respectful to him, he gave her to understand that he would remember her in his will.
But young Farmer Rodel objected to this, alleging, not without reason, that it would result in his having to feed the big boy; for in a large house like his one could not see whether a servant was not giving him all kinds of things to eat. He therefore forbade Damie to come to the house, except on Sunday afternoons.
First of all she went to old Farmer Rodel, and in plain words asked him to let her have at once the legacy that he had promised her long ago. The old man replied: "Why do you press it so? Can't you wait? What's the matter with you?" "Nothing's the matter with me, but I can't wait." Then she told him that she was fitting out her brother who was going to emigrate to America.
Don't let him notice that you know anything about it either." Crappy Zachy went away, and Farmer Rodel called his sister and his wife into the little back room. After exacting a promise of secrecy, he imparted to them that a suitor for Rose was coming the next day, a prince of a man, who had a first-rate farm in fact, it was none other than John, the son of Farmer Landfried of Zumarshofen.
Madame Rodel is to keep careful record of all its American occupants, just as she has done in the past. She is pledged not to repair it beyond the bare necessity which its uses as a bed may require, an injunction which it was hardly necessary to lay upon her, judging by the other furniture in our apartment.
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