Can there be such a thing as a holy feast for a woman like the Röttmännin? Can there exist a human being doomed one day to leave this world, without ever having felt the joyful sensation of being happy, or of having contributed to the happiness of others? That there are such persons, cannot fail to cast a dark shadow on the earth, and must prevent anyone feeling unalloyed gladness of heart.
These were the reflections floating in the mind of the Pastorin, as she sat at the window. Soon, however, she chased away all such shadows, and her soul became as bright as the morning of this joyous and holy festival, which is a ray emanating from eternity.
She arose and went through the house, like a gentle hushed spirit. The approaching feast day, and also the thought that her brother was with her, shed such lustre and gladness on her whole being, that everything seemed to smile on her; and while she prepared a good breakfast for her brother, who was sure to return very hungry from shooting, she looked at the ham, the butter, and eggs, with considerable complacency, as if grateful to them for possessing the excellent property of nourishing and strengthening man.
These articles of food could not speak, or make any observations in return; but the maid being pretty well aware that her mistress liked to talk of her brother, said, "What a handsome, grand gentleman your brother is, ma'am. When he arrived yesterday evening I really thought he was the Prince who drove through here last winter, on his way to shoot;" and the maid gave her own face a good rub with her apron, to make it look as well as possible. "I was so glad we happened to have killed a goose," added she, giving an affectionate look at the slaughtered victim, hanging outside the kitchen window.
Brother Edward returned home about ten o'clock. The Pastorin warned him that her husband was still asleep, and he placed his gun as gently in the corner as if it had been made of cotton. Her brother's good appetite pleased the Pastorin, who seated herself with her embroidery beside Edward, and told him the Pastor's adventures. He, in return, said he had shot nothing, for he felt quite sure he had got on the track of the wolf; but he lost all traces of the animal in a ravine, as he was afraid of venturing to descend into it alone. He had gone as far as the forest mill, and described with much enthusiasm the grand and striking aspect of the landscape, the waterfalls all frozen, and the rocks glittering like finely cut crystal. The more awe inspiring and imposing the young man delineated the scene without, the more snug and comfortable did the room appear within. And the brother and sister talked to each other with the same quiet ease with which the heat diffused itself through the room: the pendulum of the clock and the crackling of the wood in the stove were more audible than their voices. Gentle flakes of snow were falling slowly and quietly outside, fluttering in the air as if in play, making the room within seem even more comfortable than usual.
"I have still an adventure to relate to you," recommenced Edward.
"Won't you wait till my husband is awake, so that you may not have to tell it twice over?"
"No; I wish you alone to hear it, and you must promise me secresy. I was standing behind a bush, not far from the forest mill, on the watch, for I thought the wolf would be sure to appear again, when I saw two girls coming along the path. They stood still not far from my hiding-place, and one girl said, 'I will say good bye to you here; thank you for your kindness, my mother in Heaven will reward you for it. But it is all over; I cannot help myself. Oh! why are those days gone by, when a wicked woman could transform you into a raven? I wish I were that raven in the sky above our heads; then I could fly far away, then my misery would be over. See! the snow is melting where my tears fall on it; but nothing can melt a hard heart, and my father is entirely changed.' Her tears prevented her saying more, and her companion left her. The weeping girl turned back towards the mill; I could not resist advancing to meet her, but I almost regretted it when I saw such sorrow overclouding the young, fresh, blooming face. I would gladly have tried to console her, but I really did not know what to say; so I simply wished her good day. She looked at me, startled, and stood still for a moment in surprise, and then went on her way."
"That must have been the Forest Miller's Tony," said the Pastorin; "a good-hearted girl, as ever lived. She is to be betrothed to Adam, I hear."
"That would be too shameful!" exclaimed Edward, indignantly.