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Updated: June 22, 2025
Something seemed to be seething in his mind, and it often seemed as if he was so busy with his own thoughts, that he could scarcely take heed of what the landlord wanted him for. "You've got to send that boy away," began Simmen in an excited tone. "My my daughter has seen too much of him, as young as she is, the child!
The host thought how nicely Franz had served in the guests' room, and what a favorite he had been with the travelers, and he, Simmen, was not a narrow minded man: A serious and hardworking man stood higher in his esteem than a rich or well born man of whose character one could not feel so sure. So it did not seem so impossible to him, about Vincenza and the boy.
She is locked in, upstairs now, until she grows tamer but you must send the boy away, and soon too." Simmen's anger was evident in his hasty, broken speech. He and Vincenza must have had a stormy time together. Fausch looked down and made no answer. His thoughts held full sway over him. Simmen thought that he was considering what had just been said to him.
Hand in hand, singing lightheartedly in the pure, early morning they would climb some green slope, or clamber over rocks and boulders to the snow near by, or they would wander to a dark valley not far away, where a third lake lay quite inclosed by steep rocky walls, and known to very few people in all the world. Simmen kept a boat on this lake, a homely old thing with only one oar.
The host might take it for assent if he chose. When he had forced out these few words in answer to Simmen, Fausch shifted from one foot to the other a few times, as if the ground were hot beneath his feet, then suddenly he walked out exactly as he had come in, with clumsy, almost groping steps, as if he were blindly following his own thoughts.
Fausch did not pause in his work. Only once he looked quickly, almost secretly at the lad who was approaching. "That's a fine looking boy of yours, Fausch," Simmen went on. The smith muttered something or other.
Simmen, in spite of his rather unwieldy figure, was active and quick, and took hold himself, when there was too much for the maids to do, and helped to bring in the food and drink. But Vincenza and Cain moved swiftly and easily among the guests who crowded the rooms, were now here, now there, and their work and their pleasure in their work gave them rosy cheeks and brightly flashing eyes.
Then he reached out his hand, because he could not find the right words, and his face blazed scarlet. It came over him that he was like a beggar. Simmen looked silently at the floor. He was a reasonable man, and he saw what his words cost the smith, indeed he hardly recognized him.
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