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Updated: June 15, 2025
Old Rahel, usually an early riser, was sleeping as soundly as if she had to make up the lost slumber of ten nights; but the smith's anxiety would no longer allow him to remain in the close room.
Old Rahel uttered a fresh wail of grief, when she saw this shelter; but after the men had removed the snow as well as they could, and covered the holes in the roof with pine-branches; when Adam had lighted a fire, and the sacks and coverlets were brought in from the sledge, and laid on a dry spot to furnish seats for the women, fresh courage entered their hearts, and Rahel, unasked, dragged herself to the hearth, and set the snow-filled pot on the fire.
She knew well the heart of her brother Klaus, and how vain would be Körg's last effort to save them from starvation. A step sounded on the path without. Rahel and the babes stopped to listen. It was not dull and heavy as they had expected, but blithe as the jingle of sleigh-bells, and, in a second, Körg burst in upon them, dimpling all over with merry laughter. Rahel regarded him, amazed.
Old Rahel, too, had regained her self-control, and was sound asleep. The children followed her example, and at midnight Elizabeth slept too. Marx lay beside the hearth, and from his crooked mouth came a strange, snoring noise, that sounded like the last note of an organ-pipe, from which the air is expiring.
"In the forest with Ruth. We were gathering faggots for Dr. Costa." "Until now?" "Rahel had baked some dumplings, so the doctor told me to stay." "Then go to bed now. But first take some food to the groom in the stable, and put fresh linen on my bed. Be in the workshop early to-morrow morning, there is a horse to be shod."
Was she not a friend of poets, a correspondent of philosophers, a muse, a priestess of aesthetics something in the way of a Bettina, a Rahel? My conjectures, however, were speedily merged in wonderment as to what my diffident friend was making of her.
"In the forest with Ruth. We were gathering faggots for Dr. Costa." "Until now?" "Rahel had baked some dumplings, so the doctor told me to stay." "Then go to bed now. But first take some food to the groom in the stable, and put fresh linen on my bed. Be in the workshop early to-morrow morning, there is a horse to be shod."
What indeed entitles either Madame de Sevigne or Rahel to fame, but their very nationality that intensely local style of language and feeling which clothes their genius with a living body instead of leaving it in the abstractions of a dreary cosmopolitism?
Then came the quiet, beautiful wife and Ruth in bonds, and behind them Marx and Rahel. He distinctly saw all this; it even seemed as if he heard the sobs of the women, and wailing bitterly, he thrust his hands in his floating locks and ran to and fro. Suddenly he thought that the troopers would return to seize him also.
Come, come! Oh, I am caught, I can go no farther!" Mortal terror had seized the old woman; she did not want to die. To the girl death was welcome, and she did not stir. Voices were now audible in the vestibule, but they sounded neither noisy nor threatening; yet Rahel shrieked in despair as a lansquenet, fully armed, entered the workshop with the armorer.
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