"What is going on here?" asked the little man.
"We are looking for a child—Joseph—he has disappeared."
"How old is the child?"
"Six years old."
"I met a fine boy with a rosy face, and fair curly hair."
"Yes, yes, that must have been Joseph; for God's sake tell me where he is," said Martina, rushing up to the man so eagerly, that all his hats tumbled down into the snow.
"Gently, gently! I have not got him in my bundles. Below there, in the wood, I all at once met a boy; I asked him: 'What are you doing here alone, and night beginning to fall? where are you going to?' 'To meet my father, who is coming up this road; did you not see him?' 'What is your father like?' 'Big and strong.' 'I have not seen him—come home with me, child.' 'No, I am coming home with my father.' I took hold of the child, and tried to bring him with me by force, but he being wild and obstinate, gave me the slip, and darted off like a deer, and I heard him still calling, far into the wood, 'Father! father!'"
"That was certainly Joseph; for God's sake let us go after him."
"We will all go—all!"
"Stop!" said Schilder-David, coming forward; "hatter, will you go with us?"