"Not if you could gain a good many francs by going?"
"It would not be right to say to you that I knew the way, if I did not."
The boy's face was attractive, his voice gentle, and his blue eyes full of tenderness. His look and his answer delighted me.
"No, it would not be right, Erwald; and because you love the right and feel sure that you can serve us, I will take you in your father's place."
"I am glad, very glad; and now I must see my mother. Vesta is sick and she will be glad to see any one from home."
Erwald's face was glowing; I turned to the father.
"Erwald is a good child," he said. "At first we felt vexed with him and Vesta for leaving the church, and not a few times did we punish them. But they were so good and patient that it troubled us; and now their mother is a Protestant, and I never go to mass."
It was explained, the serene calm of the earnest blue eyes: Erwald was a Christian.
Early in the morning our guide made his appearance. His countenance sweet and pleasing as it was the night previous. He was accompanied by a little woman in a black gown and bodice, with a high cap and the whitest of kerchiefs—a mild sweet-faced woman, whom we knew at once as his mother.
"You'll tell Vesta mother thinks of her all the time, and prays the Father every hour to make her well again."