CHAPTER LI.
At this table, which was spread with a white linen cloth, and decorated with vases of flowers, the school-teacher was just saying:
"Yes, Madam Pfann, that is the hardest riddle hidden in the whole history of man. Why can nothing but a myth or a people's war move the souls of the masses? In a war the souls of nations see one another, if one may say so, face to face."
He paused in the midst of his dissertation; for the lieutenant said in a clear voice:
"The Frenchmen literally took us for cannibals. In a village near Orleans, I went to a house and called; there was no answer. Presently I saw a woman, sitting on top of the brick oven; I spoke to her pleasantly, but she remained dumb, until, at last, I asked where the children were. She looked at me in terror; and I said, laughing: 'Bring me one, and roast it well. I want to eat it.' Then the woman laughed too, and let the children out of the oven, where she had really hidden them."
It was at this they had laughed so loud, at the great folk's table. They were all pleased with the lieutenant, whose former wild boyishness had changed to dignified composure. The eyes of the judge's wife danced with a mother's pride; and if she was always thoughtful of comforting and helping others, to-day she would have been glad to have poured joy upon every one. But to-day no one needed her, for there was joy and happiness everywhere. Just then she saw Landolin, and said:
"There sits the farmer of Reutershöfen all alone."
"It is well," said the district forester, "that the people are still strong-hearted and straight-forward enough to cast out a man who was unjustly acquitted."
"Wolfgang, come with me," said the judge's wife, rising; and taking her son's arm, she went to Landolin's table. She said to her son that she would remain there, and that he might join his comrades; and giving her hand to Landolin, she sat down beside him, asked after his wife and daughter--people never asked after Peter--and promised to visit them soon. She also intimated that she hoped to be able to straighten out the difficulty with Anton. Landolin told her, composedly, that Anton had visited them the evening before, but that Thoma had refused him, and that was probably the cause of his staying away from the celebration.
"Had I known that, I should not have come either," he concluded; and the lady discovered what suffering he must that day have undergone; and with the most sympathetic expression of voice and countenance, she said: