"So?" said Bräsig, pressing his hand, "if that is it, then I am not at all offended, and I always said also, to the Frau Pastorin and the little Louise, that you were an educated farmer, like the man in the book, since you keep kind feelings in your heart, and can look out for the good-for-nothing farm-boys; and I have always told Rudolph he should take you for a model. Do you know Rudolph?" And he began to tell about Rudolph and Mining, and Gottlieb and Lining, and brought the whole region into the story, and Franz compelled himself to listen attentively, so that before he reached Pumpelhagen, he knew all about everybody, even about Pomuchelskopp and his Häuning. "So," said Bräsig, when they reached the court-yard, "you go now to your gracious Herr Cousin, and I to Habermann, and what I have said to you about Pomuchelskopp, and his secret projects must remain _præter propter_ between us, and you may rely upon it, I will keep watch of him, and if he attempts any more scurvy tricks I will let you know." But Franz did not go into the manor house, he ran before Bräsig into the farmhouse, into the room where he had spent so many quiet, happy hours with his good old instructor, and he fell upon the old man's neck, and old and young lay in each other's arms, as if the time and the years between the two had been blotted out, and the old eyes grew moist, and the young cheeks took a fresher color, as if age were giving its dew and its blessing that youth might grow fresher and brighter. So it was, and so shall it ever be! Then Franz went up to Fritz Triddelsitz, and offered his hand: "Good-day, Fritz!" But Fritz had his pride, also, his burgher-pride, and he had also his revenge, the revenge which he had stamped into the pease-field, after the ditch-rendezvous, so he said, coldly, "How do you find yourself, Herr von Rambow?" "Fritz, have you no sense?" said Franz, and turned away and left him, as if Fritz were an inexplicable riddle, and he would turn to something else; he shook hands with the two old men, and went to his cousin. "Karl," said Bräsig, sitting down to the table, where the dinner stood ready, "an excellent young man, this Herr Von! And what a beautiful piece of roast pork you have here! I have seen no such roast pork, in seven cold winters."