A young stone-cutter who lived at a village in our neighborhood, and was employed in the shops at the depot, greeted the locksmith's widow in the most friendly manner. He held her hand in his for some time, and she seemed pleased thereat. How strange that at such moments one can see more than is transpiring about him! It suddenly occurred to me, "Who knows--they may yet be a couple."
The Inspector invited me to his dwelling; I accompanied him. A short time afterward, he returned and told me that the train had been signalled. He led me down the steps and remained at my side. Now we hear the whistle;--now the train is coming round the curve; now it is slacking its speed. No one is beckoning to me from the car windows. Can he have failed to come? Many passengers alight; but I see no sign of my son.
Suddenly a guard calls out to me, "Herr Waldfried, you are to come this way!" He opens the door of the car and I am lifted up into it.
I hear a voice exclaim, "Father!" and I know nothing of what happened for some time afterward.
"Grandfather, give me your hand," says another voice. But, before that, I am embraced by a lovely woman, who sheds tears of joy.
Leading my son with my right hand and my grandson with the left, I walked out as if marching in triumph. My daughter-in-law was escorted by Johanna and her daughter.
Suddenly Ludwig dropped my hand and called out, "You here, Ernst?"
"I am not your brother Ernst; I am Julius, the son of your sister Martina."
"Where is Rothfuss?" inquired Joseph, who had also come on the train with Ludwig.
I had already seen him. He stood aside, lighting one match after another, and seemed to be waiting for Ludwig to come to him to get a light for his cigar.