An Old Story of My Farming Days Vol. 1 (of 3).: (Ut Mine Stromtid)Reuter, Fritz
General
An Old Story of My Farming Days Vol. 1 (of 3).: (Ut Mine Stromtid)
Reuter, Fritz
Farm life -- Fiction
matter I assure you, and no one has anything to do with it but we
two. But now, come away, my boy, we'll tell my pastor all about it.
Good-night, Mr. von Rambow. Good-night, Hawermann, Fred will soon
follow you. Come away, Bräsig, you must go to bed at once."
And so she managed to disperse the assembly. The two who were left in
ignorance of what had happened, went home separately, shaking their
heads over the affair. Hawermann was indignant with his two young
people, and put out because he was to have no explanation of their
conduct. Frank was mistrustful of everyone; he had recognised Louisa's
hat and shawl in spite of the darkness, and thought that the mystery
must have something to do with her, though how, he was unable to
conjecture.
Fred was much cast down in spirit. The clergyman and his wife went on
in front of him, and the latter told her husband the whole story from
beginning to end, scolding her hopeful nephew roundly the whole time.
The procession moved on towards the parsonage, and as the evil-doer
guessed that a bad half-hour awaited him there, he had serious thoughts
of making his escape while it was possible, but Bräsig came as close up
to him as if he had known what he was thinking of, and that only made
him rage and chafe the more inwardly. When Bräsig asked Mrs. Behrens
who it was that had come up in the nick of time, and she had answered
that it was Frank, Triddelfitz stood still and shaking his fist in the
direction of Pümpelhagen, said fiercely: "I am betrayed, and _she_ will
be sold, sold to that man because of his rank and position!"--"Boy!"
cried Mrs. Behrens, "will you hold your tongue!"--"Hush, Regina," said
her husband, who had now a pretty good idea of what had taken place,
"now please go in and see that Bräsig's room is prepared, and get him
sent to bed as quickly as you can. I will remain here and speak to
Fred."
This was done. The parson appealed to Fred's common sense, but his
sense of injury far exceeded that other, and his spirit seethed and
boiled like wine in the process of fermentation. He put aside all the
clergyman's gentle arguments, and declared passionately that his own
aunt had determined to destroy the whole happiness of his life, and
that she cared more for the rich aristocrat than for her sister's son.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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