Forgiveness -- Fiction; Guilt -- Fiction; Love -- Fiction
"Oh, don't think hard of me. I can't think of anything but our child.
If we traveled as fast as my thoughts, we'd be home in a twinkling, as
tailor Schneck says."
She smiled and checked herself and, soon after, continued: "Oh, how
could I ever have stayed away from you so long? It isn't true. I've
always been at home and now I'm coming. I'm coming to you, my child.
Didn't you hear some one cry, Hansei?" said she, looking round. "I hear
some one crying; it sounds like a child."
"Do be quiet. You're enough to frighten one out of his senses."
Walpurga would often look back, for it seemed to her as if she could
hear a child crying.
In the city a child _was_ crying, and those who were about it could not
quiet it. Their diamonds, their gold, their soldiers, were all of no
avail. Behind her and before her, Walpurga heard nothing but the crying
of a child.
"Why do you shut your eyes?" asked Hansei.
"Oh," replied Walpurga, "I feel like the father of Wastl the weaver.
When he was cured of his blindness, he used to say that the trees came
toward him, and that everything blinded him. I too, feel as if I had
seen nothing during this whole time. Look! there's the first man with a
green hat, and he has his game-bag on his back; and the trees have kept
on growing of themselves, while I was away. I don't know how I'll go
through it all and not die, for I shouldn't like to die just now. I
want to walk about with my child. Oh dear, good Hansei, don't give her
a stepmother."
"Wife, wife," said Hansei, quieting her, "you're making fools of both
of us. I'm quite sure that comes of your not having eaten a thing all
day."
He insisted upon stopping at the next inn, where Walpurga was obliged
to drink some wine. There was, indeed, wine in her chest, that is, the
six bottles with silver foil, which the doctor had sent. But she wished
to take that to her mother.
Although it was in broad daylight, Walpurga fell asleep in the wagon.
When she awoke, she silently took her husband's hand in hers and held
it for a long while. In the last little town this side of their
village, they stopped again, in spite of Walpurga's protests. Hansei
asserted that the grandmother did not expect them before the next day,
and that they would find nothing to eat at home. He ordered a bounteous
meal, as if he were laying in a supply for several days. Walpurga fell
to heartily, and at last they quite forgot themselves, for Doctor
Kumpan entered the inn. He was quite affable toward Walpurga and drank
heartily with Hansei. He then called him aside and enjoined him to
treat his wife considerately.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account