CHAPTER LXIV.
Not long after Thoma had gone, her mother called Landolin and said:
"Put your mind at ease and be cheerful again. You may be sure that Thoma will come home with pure happiness and blessing. Everything will be right again. She will come holding Anton's hand."
Landolin was silent. He was struck by his wife's glorified expression, and changed voice. She closed her eyes, but after a while she said, laughing:
"Walderjörgli! Nothing has pleased me so much for a long time as his greeting. When I am well again you must take me up to see him."
Landolin nodded. He could not tell his wife that the news had just come that Walderjörgli was dying.
Landolin went into the living-room and looked out of the window. He saw the agent of the Hail Insurance Company come out of the field with the bailiff and several of the town council. The agent was putting his note-book into his pocket. The men had evidently been looking at and estimating the damages done by the hail. They drew nearer to Landolin's house, and he greeted them pleasantly, but the agent nodded, and was passing by.
"Well! How is it?" asked Landolin. "Have you not looked at my fields and valued the damages? And why without me?"
The agent replied that Landolin was no longer insured; that Peter had discontinued in the spring.
Landolin drew back and shut the window. He probably did not want to show the people how this news of Peter's willfulness and indiscretion surprised him. He sat down on the bench, and pressing his hands between his knees, and biting his lips, he thought: "Now they are laughing at me; now they can rejoice in my trouble, and the more because it is plain to be seen that I am of no consequence in my own house."
He went into the yard, and asked for Peter. He was told that he had gone into the forest with the horses. He said to himself: "It is well that my anger has time to cool; there shall be no quarrel. They shan't have the satisfaction of rejoicing at our misunderstanding, but Peter must be made to own that he has been thoughtless."
Landolin seemed to have conquered his uneasiness; and again looked out of the window, and saw Peter coming with a great load of wood. He called to him to come into the living-room, after he had unhitched and unloaded, for he had something to say to him. It was long before Peter obeyed, and Landolin, whose anger was ready to boil over again, preached composure to himself. At length he came, and asked what his father wanted.
Landolin took a chair and said: "Sit down."
"I can stand."
"Don't speak so loud. Your mother is sick in the bedroom."
"I'm not speaking loud."
"Very well, then; come away with me to the porch."
They went out together, and Landolin said that he was only going to speak in kindness, and Peter must understand it so; that he had made a mistake in discontinuing the hail insurance, and it should be a warning to him. He should see that his father had, after all, done some things better than he, and that he ought to confess his mistake.
"Confession is not to be spoken of between us," replied Peter, defiantly.
Landolin felt a pain in his breast, as though he had been stabbed with a dagger. He groaned, and said:
"Only think how the people will ridicule us!"
"It would be well if that were all the ground they had. They do it at many other things. That's enough! I won't be found fault with."
"I didn't find fault with you."
"Very well. You can deny that too if you like. There are no witnesses."
"Peter, don't provoke me. I was only speaking to you in kindness."
"I didn't see any."
"Peter, don't force me to lay hands on you."
"Do it. Kill me, as you did Vetturi, and then deny it."
A cry sounded from the porch; but another, much shriller, rang from the living-room. Landolin rushed in. On the threshold of the chamber door lay his wife, a corpse.
She had evidently heard the quarrel; had wanted to make peace; and had dropped dead.
Peter too had come into the living-room; but Landolin motioned him away, and he obeyed.
They laid his wife on the bed again. Landolin sat beside her a long time; then he went out and said they must send a messenger for Thoma.
It was not long before Thoma came into the room. She sank down beside the body, and cried:
"O mother, mother! Now, I am all alone in the world--all alone!"
When she looked around for her father, he was no longer there.