"Out in the woods. I cut down a pine-tree, a splendid one that must have felt my strokes. It did me good. But, first of all, give me something to eat, for I'm hungry."
"He can still eat; thank God for that," thought Walpurga to herself, while she hurried to fetch the porridge. She sat down beside him, delighting in every spoonful which he took. She had much to tell and to ask about, but she didn't wish to disturb him while he was eating, and when the dish was half empty she held it up for him, so that he could fill his spoon.
"Now tell me," said she, when the dish was emptied, "why did you go out so early and steal away so?"
"Well, I'll tell you. When I awoke, I thought it was all a dream, and when, after that, I found the money, so much of it, I thought I'd go crazy. Hansei, the poor fellow who used to save for months at a time, and felt so happy when he could buy himself a shirt and a pair of shoes, had all at once become rich, and it seemed as if some one were turning me round and round and driving me crazy. Then I felt like waking you up, that we might consider what I'd better do with myself. But you sleep so soundly that I thought--Pshaw! is your wife to help you? Just you wait, Hansei; I'll show you--and so I got out and took my axe and went up the mountain. Day was just breaking. Although I was quite alone, I felt, all the time, as if there was a great crowd of people after me. Still I went on till I reached the pine. It was marked out to be felled long ago. I threw off my jacket and set to work, and when the chips began to fly, I felt better. Afterward, Wastl came up and helped me, but he kept saying, all the time: 'Hansei, you never worked as you do to-day'; and he spoke the truth. We felled the tree and it came down with a crash. That did me, good, and I felt better and better. We chopped off the branches and did three times as much as we generally do in the same time, and so, little by little, all the foolish notions and giddiness left my head. Now I'm here again and happy, and I'm with you, Walpurga, my old sweetheart. I've been a woodcutter again, in downright earnest, and now I'm to become a farmer--that is, if all goes right."
And it all came to pass.
The mother had a wonderful way of disappearing when she knew that Hansei and Walpurga had anything to settle between themselves. One could almost have fancied that the cottage was provided with secret doors and subterranean passages, so suddenly would she vanish. She would reappear just as suddenly, and no one would know where she had been or how she had returned.
According to her wont, she had disappeared. Walpurga and Hansei searched through the house for her, but found her nowhere. When they returned to the room, she was there.
"Mother, we've good news for you," said Walpurga.
"I see what's best of all, already," she replied, "and that is that your hearts are truly united. I don't care to know any more."
"No, mother, you must know this. Did you ever imagine that you might be mistress of the freehold at which you once were a servant?"