Tony, rather astonished, watched Adam wrapping himself in his grey cloak, and putting on his fur cap; then seizing his thick knotted stick with its long sharp point, he swung it in the air. He looked very handsome, but a formidable fellow. He left the room hurriedly, and the bride remained quietly seated by the fire. After a time Speidel Roettmann came into the kitchen, and said, "What is going on here? The dogs are so restless, and are whining beside us. Where is Adam?" "He is gone." "Where?" "I don't mean to tell you; but he is soon coming back." "Really? I know well enough where he is gone. But not a word to my wife of this, nor to your father. Has he been long gone?" "Only a few minutes." "Slip into the next room, and fetch me my hat; but take care that nobody sees you, and on no account let the dogs out. But no--yes; go get my hat. Adam is a fool, and you are the best girl in the world." The bride, glad to get away from Speidel Roettmann's hints, went and fetched his hat and stick; and the old man enjoined on her to say that he meant to return immediately. So away he went, placing his stick firmly on the ground each step he took, as he strode along. He takes good care of himself. CHAPTER X. A FATHER IN SEARCH OF HIS SON. When Adam got into the open air, he felt as if he had suddenly awoke. "What has happened? Unless I choose, nothing has happened." He shivered, and the hand which had clasped Tony's was now so cold that he tried to warm it on the head of his pipe. There was no possibility of missing the way to the village, but attention was necessary; for there was a steep precipice overhanging the valley below, close to the road; the snow was rapidly falling in thick flakes, and Adam had not gone twenty paces when he looked like a moving snow man. He was obliged to keep a sharp look out, for he could see no path before him; but he was so well acquainted with every tree, and every rock hereabouts, that he had no difficulty in finding them out even in the snow. When he reached the rising ground whence the descent into the valley commences, and looking back, saw the lights shining so cheerily in the Forest Mill, he felt a strong inclination to go back there. "She is a very pretty creature, and hundreds have done the same, and yet have lived gaily and happily with their wives:--turn back!" But, in spite of these tempting thoughts, he went straight on down the hill, so the lights in the mill soon disappeared from his view; and now his heart felt lighter, and in the thickly falling snow he lifted his hand to Heaven and vowed--"I will go home no more. I would rather be a poor labourer, and earn my daily bread, than desert my Martina, and my child, my Joseph; it is two years since I have heard his voice--he must be very much grown, and able now to say 'Father, father'!"