Thoma cast a bitter, wounded glance at Anton, who said in a soothing tone, almost gaily indeed, that Thoma's father had been so fierce with all the world because he had had to give up his daughter. A sad smile passed over Thoma's face.
"I may go home with you, may I not?" asked Anton.
Thoma stood still. She laid her hand on her heart, and said:
"I am done with this. I have settled it here. Don't say that it is pride, don't say that I did not love you;--or, if it is a comfort, you may think so. Anton, I am walking with you for the last time. I am speaking to you for the last time. Anton, it must, it must, be all over between us. I cannot, I will not----I will not go into a house where I do not bring honor. I will learn to bear my lonely life. Seek for yourself some other happiness. Farewell!"
"Thoma, you thrust from you him on whom you should lean."
"I thrust no one away from me, and I will lean on no one."
They had reached the house. She entered quickly, leaving Anton standing alone outside, but he was not long by himself, for Tobias and Peter came up to him. They welcomed him heartily; for of course he would testify, as they would, that the stone did not hit Vetturi, but that he had fallen down on the sharp-pointed paving stones in terror at Landolin's strong voice. They were very careful not to say that Vetturi had thrown a stone first.
They said how fortunate it was that a man so highly thought of as Anton had seen it all plainly; and Tobias added, smirkingly, that it was well that the engagement was broken off for the present; for, as son-in-law, his testimony would not have full weight. He further begged Anton to instruct his comrade Fidelis. "Go and call Fidelis," Tobias said to Peter, who soon returned with him. The head-servant and the son now urged Fidelis to let Anton convince him that he had been mistaken; but Fidelis remained immovable, and repeated that he had no doubts in the matter. He was sure that Anton's convictions were as honest as his own, even though they differed from them ... but for his part, he could not and would not say anything different from what he had seen. In court it would appear who was right.
Anton returned home troubled. He said to himself: "Have I let Landolin tell me what I saw? Shall I lose my heart to the daughter, and my conscience to the father? It would be better if the marriage had not been broken off, for then I could refuse to testify."