Dazed, almost unconscious, George picked himself up and went on to his place of work; mechanically he emptied the wheelbarrow; then he sat down on a stone and stared into space, unable to think. The clouds that had covered the sky early in the morning had become darker and heavier; a cold autumn wind blew through the trees and a penetrating rain began to fall. George did not feel the drops that beat into his face; sparks of fire danced before his eyes and hot and cold shudders shook him from head to foot. Gradually a realization of the insult to himself mingled with the burning sense of the injustice that was being done to both him and Tertschka. He was to be driven away from one who belonged to him by right of sacred bond! who had a right to do that? No one! And the longer he thought of it, the more his timid, long suffering heart rebelled, and a wonderful strength, a holy courage, began to kindle in him, ready to face and fight any power on earth that dared to take his loved one from him. His insignificant features took on an expression of firm resolve, and his eyes shone with a strange fire. At last he arose and walked up to the place where he knew he would find Tertschka; the others looked at him in wonder. The girl sat and wept. “Do not cry, Resi,” he said; and there was a new and strong ring in his voice. She did not answer. He gently lifted her head, but she only began to weep the more passionately. “Do not cry,” he repeated, “It had to be, I suppose. But it is all right, and we know now what to do.” She looked straight before her. “He has sent me away--and you will go with me!” She did not seem to hear him. “Down there, somewhere in Carniola, they are building a railway; we can easily find work there.” She shook her head slowly. “You won’t, Resi? And see, one more thing. I have been told that soldiers who have served their time and have gone through the war may claim a position as watchman on a railway track. I shall send in a petition, and perhaps if I succeed we shall have one of those little houses by the tracks and live in it as husband and wife. And even if that should fail,” he added quickly--for she had not yet given a sign of consent, only kept on weeping more than ever--“well, then, we shall have to submit and work hard for a few years and save as much as possible. But just say one word, Resi!” “Oh,” she moaned, “what you say is all beautiful and right, but you forget that the man will never let me go!” “He _must_ let you go. You are no longer a child. You don’t belong to him. You are a laborer here, like all the rest of them, and can go when and wherever you please!”