Martha, when she heard of this, thought that his love for his meadows might excuse this wickedness; but my daughter-in-law reproved her with a severity which I had never observed before. She looked upon such trespassing as being a most serious matter; for the growth of all that belongs to us out of doors depends on public confidence.
Alas! how we cared for such little matters, while such great affairs were being settled yonder. The French might come upon us at any moment. But it is always thus. You stoop to pick a strawberry, and do not notice the mountain range. Why, as I was walking through the woods I was delighted at the prospect of a good crop of huckleberries. This is of importance to the poor people; for the productions which those who are better off do not care to cultivate, furnish food for the poor.
On the evening of the 1st of August, I was again on top of the Hochspitz Mountain, where Wolfgang had been with me the last time. The whole valley of the Rhine was bathed in the glow of the setting sun, which filled the air like a golden stream, and beyond lay the blue Vosges Mountains.
What is going on there? Will the French soon be here, killing and burning as they go?
To protect the pine-tree seeds against the birds, Wolfgang had placed brushwood over the spot on which he had sowed them. This had already become dry, and the leaves, therefore, covered the ground from which the young plants were starting.
On my way home I could hear the murmur of the brook below; and everything was so still, that I could even hear the noise made by the fountain in front of my house. Sometimes the shrill sound of the saw-mill would be carried up to me by the breeze. The grain-fields were in bloom; a nourishing haze lay upon them; the forest-trees were silently growing; the sun shone so clear by day; the moon was so bright by night. We seemed to be separated from that world in which a dreadful slaughter was just beginning.
The next morning I looked from out my quiet home, into the far distance. It had rained during the night. Everything was cooled off, the sun shone brightly, and the air from the fields was most refreshing. We had brought in our hay the day before, and the thunder-storm during the night had nourished the meadows. It seemed as if the myriads of refreshed plants joyfully gave token of new vigor. I said to myself: Thus may it be with our country and our people; perhaps, while you slept, a dreadful storm--and, let us hope, a beneficent one--may have passed over us.
Just then Joseph brought the news: "Fighting has begun. We have been beaten at Saarbrücken."
"None of our people are there: only Prussians are there," cried Rothfuss.
Joseph saw how angry these words made me, and, to turn away my wrath, he begun to tell about Funk, who was down in the tavern boasting of his knowledge of French, and saying that he would get along with the Frenchmen. He also had several little books for sale, from which the ordinary French phrases could be learnt.