"Well: now I believe it, Herr Pastor. Before you came we had a Pastor who disliked us, and whom we equally disliked—can anything be more dreadful? How can Christian love, faith, and piety flourish, when he who preaches the word of God, and he who hears it, have no mutually kind feeling? It would be sad indeed if this were to be once more the case; we know that there are some in the parish who vex the good heart of our Pastor; but Herr Pastor, the gracious Lord would have spared Sodom if even two just men had been found there, and you, Herr Pastor, persist in leaving us because there are two or three wicked men among us." Here Schilder-David paused, but as the Pastor made no reply, he continued:—
"Herr Pastor, it is no use our telling you how you have grown into all our hearts. If it is better for you to go elsewhere, we can but wish you happy wherever you may be; but every man, woman, and child, in this village, who ever met their Herr Pastor, feel as if they must give him some proof of gratitude and love; as if they could not let him pass with a simple good morning, or good evening: we heartily wish, Herr Pastor, that there may be the same kindly feeling towards you in the new place you are going to, and also that, if you persist in leaving us, you will at least endeavour to provide us with—I don't say such a man as yourself, for that we cannot hope for—but at all events with a good man."
"Thank you, thank you," said the Pastor, "I will do what lies in my power."
"No, no," said Herzbauer, "David has by no means said all we wanted: our greatest wish is that the Herr Pastor should stay among us, and not leave our village church deserted."
"I could not recall my application for another Cure, even if I wished to do so."
"Then we hope the Herr Pastor will excuse us for having troubled him," said Wagner, with a certain feeling of pride, that he also had made a little speech, and one by no means the least to the point.
The men left the room; the Pastorin however went down stairs with them, and comforted them by saying, that their persuasions might perhaps not be quite unavailing, and that she had nothing to do with her husband's resolution, which she thought he now regretted; perhaps to-morrow what they said might be more effectual, for he was very weary to day, having been summoned to Röttmanshof during the night, for nothing, and less than nothing.
"I did hear," said Schilder-David, "that they are all assembled at the Forest Mill this very day to betroth Adam to Tony. I was unwilling to believe it, but I do now, every word of it; the betrothal however they shall find of no use, for we are resolved never to give up our just claim."
The Pastorin returned into the room, where she found her husband and her brother still sitting together in silence: none of them spoke a single word. The evening bells rung out clear; indeed all the three bells, for the Holy Festival was being rung in, and there was a singular vibration too in the hearts of these three persons, though inaudible to any human ear. At length the Pastorin said: "I shall grieve when the time comes that I no longer hear these bells; what a multiplicity of events they have rung forth for us!"
The Pastor still sat in silence at the window, and at last said, as if speaking to himself: "The most trying thing is to resolve to leave what we are accustomed to; as I have at last made up my mind to do so, both in my own thoughts, and also to the knowledge of others, it would not do for me now to retract my determination: I will see you again shortly Edward."