Adam pursued the angels, and was lucky enough to catch hold of one by the wing, but it came off in his hand; he followed them; and the flying angels were not quick enough to escape a man like Adam. He clutched one of the angels tight, and asked him about Joseph; then he brought him to Martina, who was waiting above; but the boy was in such mortal terror, that they could not get a word out of him; above all he refused to say who his companions were, and when he was asked if he had not met a fine tall boy, seven years old, in the wood, the angel first said yes, and then no; it was impossible to make sense of what he said. In the midst of this judicial examination, Haespele appeared: "He is there! he is there!" "Who is there?" "Joseph," said Haespele, quite hoarse. "Where? where? where?" cried Martina, rushing up to him. "Where is he? for God's sake tell me! dead or living?" "He is sitting in the mill below, drinking mulled wine." "My child! my child!" cried Martina, in so shrill a tone that it vibrated through the valley, and running down the hill, as fast ever she could; Adam could scarcely keep up with her; she rushed up the steps and dashed open the door, crying out, "Joseph! Joseph! where is my Joseph?" "You and your Joseph may go the devil," answered a voice: well did she know it; it was the voice of the Roettmaennin. Neither fear, nor anxiety, nor peril of death, nor intense happiness could have overcome Martina, but this voice had such an overwhelming effect on her, that, with a loud scream, she sank to the ground in a swoon; even Adam, who was standing close behind her, was so terrified, that he let her fall, without trying to support her. "Mother! mother!" said he: he could not utter another syllable. "Do not call her mother," said Tony; "go away, Adam; leave us; I will raise Martina myself: but first give me that warm mulled wine, and sprinkle some drops of snow water from your cloak on her face. So, so! she breathes!" "Capital!" said the old Roettmannin, with a harsh laugh, "if the whole world go crazy, I won't. If they all fall down dead around me, like so many cockchafers, I will still say _no_!" Speidel-Roettmann, however, instead of replying to his wife, went up to Martina, saying, "Come, Martina, try to be composed and to command your feelings--there, I have lifted you up, sit down here." "My Joseph! where is my Joseph?" "In the warm stable below, sound asleep," said Tony; "let him sleep on quietly, your father is with him; we laid him in warm, dry hay; and I'll tell you what we will do--we will carry him upstairs immediately, and lay him in my bed, in the next room. You can go down to fetch him: Adam, you need not be afraid about your Martina; go at once, and I will stay with her."