Annette blushed crimson; but she controlled herself, and said, "You are right; I spoke quite childishly."
"Oh, you angel!" cried Ludwig; "a woman who can say, 'You are right; I have been wrong,' really is a marvel."
We received permission to carry the road farther down the mountain, and in that way secured the best place to store our material.
There was another obstacle which we were obliged to overcome, and one of which we had never thought. The Englishman had leased the right to fish in the valley, from the villagers and farmers along the banks of the stream; and he now attempted, through the courts, to enjoin us from blasting the rocks; for just there was the best spot for trout.
Ludwig went before the court in person, and he succeeded in having the injunction set aside.
Before that, the Englishman had been a mere stranger to us; but now he was our enemy, and would not deign to bestow a glance on us. When any one of us walked or drove by, he would turn his back on us.
In all this trouble, Ludwig was calm and kind; but careless work made him so indignant that he characterized it as crime and villany. He was dissatisfied, because, in their own home, he found that the German workmen had two great faults--they were awkward, and wasted too much time. In the new world, these very people would act quite differently.
Annette wanted to erect kitchens down by the banks of the stream for the workmen. She had already discussed the matter with the schoolmaster's wife, and the locksmith's widow was ready to assist; but the people took no interest in the affair.
Although she had already made up her mind, the locksmith's widow considered it her duty to consult Ludwig in regard to her marrying again. She had chosen the young stone-mason, who was hardly as old as she.
The wedding took place on a Sunday; and Annette busied herself conjecturing how the three children must have felt at their mother's marriage.