Problematic Characters: A NovelSpielhagen, Friedrich
General
Problematic Characters: A Novel
Spielhagen, Friedrich
Fiction
The two men were on an open field between the forest and the tenants'
cottages belonging to Grenwitz. Albert's prophecy seemed to be on the
point of being fulfilled. The dark heavy masses sank lower and lower,
so that it looked almost like night at the early afternoon hour; a few
big drops came pattering down.
"_Sauve qui peut_," cried Albert. "What do you say, dottore, shall we
have a little race to that cottage?"
"Well!" said Oswald.
"Ah! That was in the nick of time," said Albert, when they were safe
under the projecting roof of the hut, and shook himself like a dog. "My
coat might have been benefited by the washing, but I prefer being here.
How it rains! Shall we go in and see the interior of this palazzo,
dottore, or do you think the old woman there, who is looking at us from
the little window, is the same old witch who has conjured up this
abominable weather?"
"Good-day, Mother Claus," said Oswald, recognizing his old friend whom
he had met on his way to church.
"Many thanks, young master," said Mother Claus, and nodded kindly. "I
expected you. Just come in, and the other one too, if he is your
friend."
"Well, now--what does that mean?" asked Albert, surprised.
"Just follow me," replied Oswald. "You shall make the acquaintance of a
remarkable old woman."
And, not without stooping low, they entered through the door into the
hut.
CHAPTER VII.
"Walk in here," said Mother Claus, seizing Oswald by the hand and
drawing him from the dark passage into a little room with one window,
opposite to the larger room on the other side, into which Oswald, aided
by the steward, had carried the sick servant the other day. She did not
trouble herself about Albert, as if she knew that the young man
possessed a talent for finding his way in the dark. "I have looked for
you; for I know from of old that you love to run about in such weather,
to cool your hot youthful blood. Are you quite wet through again, as
usually? Well, not so badly this time! There, sit down in the
easy-chair. None of you have ever sat there since the day on which
Baron Oscar died in it, forty-three years ago."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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