"Of course."
The countenance of the youth seemed illumined with joy.
We seated ourselves on a bench, and silently gazed at the distant prospect.
At last Wolfgang spoke. "Grandfather, now I have it. In your forest garden are your grandson trees. The seed comes from the trees that you planted. And now I know something. I know it quite positively, but I can keep it to myself. Father always says that one should not be too hasty in talking of important things that one intends to do; it is best to sleep on them first. If one is of the same mind the next morning, it is all right. I shall tell it you tomorrow, but not to-day. My idea is a good one, and I think it will please you as much as it does me."
We took up our path, and stopped where some woodcutters were rolling the trunk of a tree down the mountainside; it bounded over young trees in its way, and Wolfgang said. "Won't it crush them?"
"Oh, pshaw!" said a wood-cutter, "They'll straighten themselves again. We have to do the same thing ourselves."
We reached the spot where my woodmen were at work. Wolfgang at once took hold of an axe and helped them lustily. But here, too, he showed his good judgment. He was not hasty, as novices usually are, and soon succeeded in copying the manner of the workmen.
We kept up our walk until we reached the mountain lake. The last time I had been in this spot was twenty years ago, with Gustava; and now it seemed as if I were there for the first time in my life.
There lay the lake, surrounded by steep, pine-covered walls; not a sound was heard, save at times the roaring of the trees, and the solemn beating of the waves against the shore. The sun shone on the water, and its ripples sparkled like so many glittering diamonds.
"Do you come here often?" asked Wolfgang.