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Updated: May 7, 2025
He was longing for his supper, for which he felt an aching void. But there was another kind of void which tortured him still more. Now Sophia had even taken the child away with her. It was fortunate that Mikolai was coming home in the autumn, then he would have more company. Mr. Tiralla had never liked being alone, and now he liked it less than ever.
Mikolai had not written for a long time, he did not care for writing. But now he wrote: "Dear Parents, Your son, Mikolai, sends you his love, and he is very well. I can tell you I am pleased to get away from the army. It is not the work for me, I prefer to till the ground.
So he finished his coffee and let her pour out some more, and when he had finished that he let her fill the cup again. He was trying to make up his mind to get up, make her a bow, and go after Mikolai, whom that nice girl was showing about. The daylight began to wane.
Had they not spent a merry hour, disporting themselves at love's fair game? She looked round; where was Martin Becker? Had he not returned from the fields with Mikolai? "Heigh!" Her voice sounded shrill as she called to her stepson. "Where are the others? Your friend and Rosa?"
Martin was nowhere to be seen, and this was not his bedroom door; this was Mr. Tiralla's, on which Mikolai was thumping, and before which he now stooped down and tried to look through the chinks. "I don't know, I don't know," cried Mikolai, shaking the handle once more. "There's a light burning in the room; but everything is so quiet, and father isn't snoring." "Oh, leave him!"
He felt so sorry for his father that he thought he must speak to him about it. But Mr. Tiralla listened to his son's stammering excuses without understanding them. "Schoolmaster schoolmaster?" He shook his head. "I don't know any schoolmaster. Friend friend? Have no friend." Mikolai shuddered when he looked at his father.
And then she said resolutely and courageously what was the good of hesitating? Had she not promised Mikolai to do it and also prayed about it? "What you've been saying is not true, daddy. You're not kind to mother. You're talking nonsense. Look, here is your Röschen, feel my hands." She put her dry, burning hands round his wrists.
But that could not be arranged so quickly, said Mikolai, who began to stand up for his rights as master, after he had caught an imploring look from his stepmother. He could not get away from his engagement in that cool way, although they were friends and had always agreed. Was he going to leave him in the lurch just when he had the autumn sowing to do?
It seemed to Mikolai as though his friend's pale face had suddenly flushed. At last Mikolai could no longer restrain himself. Why this dissimulation? He put his arm round the other's shoulders and said in a low, cordial voice, "Marry my sister, do. She's good and pretty and has also expectations. We three will be very happy together. Take her, Martin, I beg of you."
She had flushed when he mentioned his friend's name, and a restless look had come into her eyes, but she soon grew calm again. She gazed at her brother with eyes full of love as she said, "You'll miss me, Mikolai, I know that very well. And I shall miss you too. But I'll pray for you.
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