CHAPTER L.
Landolin was suddenly in the midst of the crowded meadow, and the first person that he hit against was the one-handed man who had been his substitute in the army.
"Come here, I'll give you something," said Landolin, putting his hand into his pocket. The one-handed man hesitated to reach out his left hand, but at length he did it; for he couldn't bear to refuse a gift, although he was earning good wages, especially just now; for Anton had bought him some pictures of the heroes of our day, which he was hawking about, and he well understood the art of praising his wares. Titus watched Landolin as he gave the man something, and their eyes met, but neither greeted the other. Titus was of the opinion that Landolin should speak to him first in a very humble manner; and Landolin expected the man of unsullied honor to make the first advances.
Landolin saw Fidelis. The servant who had formerly been in his employ, passed by as though he didn't know him; perhaps he was annoyed that his master had been acquitted notwithstanding his damaging testimony. Landolin was inclined to speak to him and be friendly, but he heard Titus call him (for Fidelis was now in his service) and say: "Enjoy yourself as much as you can--your honor is without a stain--and I will pay for what you eat."
The maids of honor with wreaths on their heads went past, walking arm in arm. Their number had evidently been increased. They were the daughters of the district forester, of Titus, and of another farmer; but what would they all have been beside Thoma, had she been there?
The men shook hands and congratulated one another upon the pleasant day and the fine celebration. Landolin rubbed his cold hands--no one had touched his hand--was there blood sticking on it? Had he not been acquitted?
"What can be the matter with Anton Armbruster? What has kept him from coming?... The best part is wanting when he is away.... Thoma wouldn't let him come to the celebration.... No, their engagement is broken off.... I'll tell you; Anton is ashamed of Landolin, whose acquittal was such an atrocity. Look! There he goes now."
Such, and still more biting words Landolin heard from every group, as he went around like one risen from the dead, with whom no one would have anything to do. "I have not deserved this, not this----" said Landolin, angry and at the same time sad. His eyes burned as they sought a friendly glance. He not only felt that all the people at the celebration disliked him because of what he had done, and delighted to wound him by ignoring his presence, but he also saw plainly that they were particularly angry at him, because on his account Anton was absent. Here, at the very place where, on the day of the fair, he had vaingloriously boasted that he considered Anton of lower station than himself--here he was made to hear how universally the man whom he might have called son was beloved and honored.
Landolin turned to go. Why should he stay? But "Hush! Stand still!" was heard from all sides; for a trumpet sounded, and the district forester mounted the platform. He said that Anton Armbruster had been selected to welcome their friends and comrades.
Cries of "Hurrah for Anton!" arose here and there; but silence was commanded, and the forester, in simple words, welcomed the guests, and explained the significance of the celebration. He said he intended to be brief, for hungry stomachs do not like to be fed with words; and he concluded with a cheer for the Fatherland.
"To dinner! To dinner!" was now the cry. The tables were soon crowded, while the band played lively airs. Titus sat at a table with the other rich farmers. Landolin took a chair, and saying, "With your leave," sat down with them.
"So, Mr. Ex-bailiff, you here too?" Landolin heard himself addressed, and turning around, saw Engelbert, the shepherd of Gerlachseck, who had wanted to hire out to him. He now wore a large white apron, for the hostess of the Sword had engaged him as an assistant for the day. Landolin did not answer.
His companions at table ate and drank heartily, and talked loudly, but no one spoke a word to Landolin, until at length Titus said: "Well, how is it, Landolin? I hear you're going to sell your farm. If that's so, I'm a purchaser. I'll pay a good price. You can have a valuation put on it."
"Who said that I was going to sell?"
"Oh, it's generally reported that you're going to leave the neighborhood."
"If I knew who started that story, I'd pull his tongue out of his throat."
"I wouldn't do that," laughed Titus; "you certainly ought to know that that isn't a good plan."
"'Twas you," cried Landolin, "that started it--you!"
Titus gave no answer, but got up and walked away; the others soon followed him, and Landolin was left alone at the table.
Music filled the air. There was dancing; and during the intervals people laughed and sang, and made merry, while Landolin struggled with rage and sorrow. Are these people here all snow-white innocents? Are there not dozens of them who have much worse things on their conscience?
He wished that he had power to rush in and crush everything under foot.
At other times a sadness came over him, and he thought: "Were I only in prison, or, better still, not in the world at all."
But lest he should show his emotion, he leaned back, lighted his pipe, and smoked with a defiant look on his face. "They shall not succeed in making me eat humble pie."
At that moment merry laughter arose from the table where the people of rank were sitting. "What does that mean? Are the great folks rejoicing over my misfortune? No, that cannot be, for there sits the judge's wife, with her son, the lieutenant."