What was the matter, then?
And while his eye was still fastened on the bush behind which the constable disappeared, he became, as it were, clairvoyant, his sight reaching out to all things instinctively. His thought stretched away to Clodwig, to the Doctor, to the Major, to the Huntsman. What are they all saying? Profoundly it came upon him: Man does not live for himself alone. There is an invisible and inseparable community, whose bond is respect and honor. He could bear no longer to sit alone with his confused thoughts; he said to himself almost aloud;—
"To the Huntsman's."
With nimble foot and beating heart, as if he expected to find something there, he knew not what, he ascended the mountain. Before reaching the town he was met by the second son of the Huntsman; he too was slowly plodding: he was carrying a heavy tub of young wine. The lad was of the same age with Roland, and while still at some distance, he cried out:—
"Father said that you would come. Just go right in, he is expecting you."
Roland thanked him and went on. As he entered the Huntsman's house, the latter cried out to him:—
"Knew you were coming. Have a salve for you. Needn't tell me anything, know everything this long while. Can give you something."
"What?"
"Boy, there are two things in the world that help; praying and drinking. If you can't pray, drink till you have enough. Come, that's the best thing."
"Shame on you," rejoined Roland, "shame on you, there is another thing."