"No, I think not. I'll not come back again. I've laid by something, and perhaps I can get another place. I won't go to Titus, but perhaps Anton will take me when he comes home. So again farewell." "Farewell, and keep up a brave heart." The farmer's wife looked through the window as Tobias, with his brother's help, lifted his great chest into the wagon. It looked almost like a coffin. She stepped back from the window, and called a maid to help her to her bed. Landolin and Thoma were frightened when they were summoned to her bedside. She lay with her back to them, and without turning around she said, "Don't be frightened; I'll soon be all right again." Landolin knew in a moment that Tobias had been doing mischief here, so he said: "I shouldn't have let the rascally fellow come up to see you alone. Before my eyes he wouldn't have dared to pour his stupid spite into your--into your good heart." Such an affectionate word caused his wife to turn over and grasp her husband's hand. Holding her hand in one of his, and stroking it gently with the other, Landolin continued: "Yes, one only finds an unfaithful man out when it's too late. When a servant is discharged, his hidden meanness shows itself. Tobias has the impudence to say that he invented a lie for my sake. It's infamous how malicious the greatest simpleton can yet be. But, thank God, what he says won't make any difference with you." His wife looked at him with glistening eyes; and casting a sidelong glance at Thoma, Landolin continued: "I must beg Peter's pardon; I didn't know him. He's smart; smarter than--than I knew. We send Tobias away, and that is the best proof that we, thank God, have nothing to hide. But I've talked enough. Not another angry word shall escape my lips. You know I'm going to confession to-day?" The farmer's wife lay perfectly quiet. She felt chilly, but she begged the family to go to church; for the bells were just ringing. Landolin went, and not without great self-satisfaction. To be sure, it was not a difficult matter to deceive his confiding wife; but Thoma had received a hit at the same time. She deserved it for her obstinate hard-heartedness; for of course she must know in what direction the praise of Peter led. Thoma stayed with her mother, who prayed quietly. CHAPTER LVII. Up the same road over which Landolin had passed the night after the celebration, now came, on this clear autumn Sunday, the judge's wife. A scoffer, who knew her thoughts, might have said to her: Not the intoxication of wine alone makes a man talk to himself, and changes his view of everything; and, worse still, the recovery from an over-indulgence in exciting thought is, perhaps, even bitterer.