His wife looked at him in astonishment, and her careworn face shone in the clear moonlight. She was not used to such affection from Landolin, and she had never known that he felt any need of sympathy. "Is Thoma ill?" he asked, after a little while. "No, only frightened, and angry about Anton. She goes around for days without speaking a word; but she works busily, and eats and drinks as usual. To be sure, she doesn't sleep as she should. I made her sleep with me; but she would not lie in your bed, and I had to give her mine." "Everything will come around all right now," said Landolin. For his part, he thought it strange that his wife, contrary to her usual habit, had so much to say; but he wanted to hear more, so he asked: "Has the prize cow a bull calf?" "Yes; coal black, with a white star on its forehead, and stout hoofs. Didn't Peter tell you that we were going to raise it?" As for Peter, who sat on the front seat driving, his sides shook. He was evidently laughing. Landolin, who had striven against the temptation, at last yielded, and asked: "How does Cushion-Kate get along?" His wife did not answer, and Landolin repeated impatiently, "Don't you hear me? Didn't you hear what I said? I asked how Cushion-Kate was getting along." "Don't scream so! You have changed very much." "It's you, not I, that have changed. Why don't you give me an answer?" "Because I have none to give. Last night Cushion-Kate was not at home. Early this morning she came back, and lit a fire for the first time in many days. She must have been at the grave yesterday, for the pastor found her red kerchief there, and sent it to her. Since then she has disappeared again; and her goat cries terribly, for it has had no fodder. The poor animal----" "What do I care for the goat! I don't know how it is--either everybody is crazy or I am crazy myself. Is this my forest? Are those my fields? To whom do these horses and this wagon belong? Say, am I crazy?" "If you go on in this way, you'll make both me and yourself so. For God's sake, don't torment us both! What do you want with Cushion-Kate just now?" His wife had scarcely uttered these words, when Cushion-Kate rushed out of the forest, and grasped the horse's reins. "Let go!" cried Peter. "Let go! or I'll drive over you." "Hold still!" said Landolin. "Kate! I mean well by you." "But I don't mean well by you. They didn't cut off your head. They didn't hang you. You shall hang yourself. There is your forest, with thousands and thousands of trees. They all wait for you to hang yourself on them." "Oh, Kate! come here to me," besought his wife. But Kate continued to pour terrible execrations. "Give her a cut with the whip," cried Landolin; "give it to me; I'll strike her." "No, father, I'll fix it," said Peter; and springing down quickly, he pushed Kate to one side; then, mounting again, he drove rapidly up the hill.