“You might get Eva to look after you, perhaps. It's a pity though, that she's married.” “Eva! Eva married, did you say?” “Yes, married!” “Why, who is her husband?” “Surely you know that. She is the blacksmith's wife.” “I thought she was his daughter.” “No, she is his wife. Do you think I am lying to you?” I had not thought about it at all; I was simply astonished. I just stood there thinking: Is Eva married? “So you have made a happy choice,” says Edwarda. Well, there seemed no end to the business. I was trembling with indignation, and I said: “But you had better take the Doctor, as I said. Take a friend's advice; that prince of yours is an old fool.” And in my excitement I lied about him, exaggerated his age, declared he was bald, that he was almost totally blind; I asserted, moreover, that he wore that coronet thing in his shirt front wholly and solely to show off his nobility. “As for me, I have not cared to make his acquaintance, there is nothing in him of mark at all; he lacks the first principles; he is nothing.” “But he is something, he is something,” she cried, and her voice broke with anger. “He is far more than you think, you thing of the woods. You wait. Oh, he shall talk to you--I will ask him myself. You don't believe I love him, but you shall see you are mistaken. I will marry him; I will think of him night and day. Mark what I say: I love him. Let Eva come if she likes--hahaha! Heavens, let her come--it is less than nothing to me. And now let me get away from here...” She began walking down the path from the hut; she took a few small hurried steps, turned round, her face still pale as death, and moaned: “And let me never see your face again.” XXIII Leaves were yellowing; the potato-plants had grown to full height and stood in flower; the shooting season came round again; I shot hare and ptarmigan and grouse; one day I shot an eagle. Calm, open sky, cool nights, many clear, clear tones and dear sounds in the woods and fields. The earth was resting, vast and peaceful... “I have not heard anything from Herr Mack about the two guillemots I shot,” I said to the Doctor. “You can thank Edwarda for that,” he said. “I know. I heard that she set herself against it.” “I do not thank her for it,” said I... Indian summer--Indian summer. The stars lay like belts in through the yellowing woods; a new star came every day. The moon showed like a shadow; a shadow of gold dipped in silver... “Heaven help you, Eva, are you married?” “Didn't you know that?” “No, I didn't know.” She pressed my hand silently. “God help you, child, what are we to do now?” “What _you_ will. Perhaps you are not going away just yet; I will be happy as long as you are here.” “No, Eva.” “Yes, yes--only as long as you are here.” She looked forsaken, kept pressing my hand. “No, Eva. Go--never any more!” * * * * *