Landolin drew back and shut the window. He probably did not want to show the people how this news of Peter's willfulness and indiscretion surprised him. He sat down on the bench, and pressing his hands between his knees, and biting his lips, he thought: "Now they are laughing at me; now they can rejoice in my trouble, and the more because it is plain to be seen that I am of no consequence in my own house."
He went into the yard, and asked for Peter. He was told that he had gone into the forest with the horses. He said to himself: "It is well that my anger has time to cool; there shall be no quarrel. They shan't have the satisfaction of rejoicing at our misunderstanding, but Peter must be made to own that he has been thoughtless."
Landolin seemed to have conquered his uneasiness; and again looked out of the window, and saw Peter coming with a great load of wood. He called to him to come into the living-room, after he had unhitched and unloaded, for he had something to say to him. It was long before Peter obeyed, and Landolin, whose anger was ready to boil over again, preached composure to himself. At length he came, and asked what his father wanted.
Landolin took a chair and said: "Sit down."
"I can stand."
"Don't speak so loud. Your mother is sick in the bedroom."
"I'm not speaking loud."
"Very well, then; come away with me to the porch."
They went out together, and Landolin said that he was only going to speak in kindness, and Peter must understand it so; that he had made a mistake in discontinuing the hail insurance, and it should be a warning to him. He should see that his father had, after all, done some things better than he, and that he ought to confess his mistake.
"Confession is not to be spoken of between us," replied Peter, defiantly.