“That’s a mistake. It is not hard after the first” said Friedel. “I only waited to watch the old birds out again.”
“Robbed the eagles! And the young ones?”
“Well,” said Friedmund, as if half ashamed, “they were twin eaglets, and their mother had left them, and I felt as though I could not harm them; so I only bore off their provisions, and stuck some feathers in my cap. But by that time the sun was down, and soon I could not see my footing; and, when I found that I had missed the path, I thought I had best nestle in the nook where I was, and wait for day. I grieved for my mother’s fear; but oh, to see her here!”
“Ah, Friedel! didst do it to prove my words false?” interposed Ebbo, eagerly.
“What words?”
“Thou knowest. Make me not speak them again.”
“Oh, those!” said Friedel, only now recalling them. “No, verily; they were but a moment’s anger. I wanted to save the kid. I think it is old mother Rika’s white kid. But oh, motherling! I grieve to have thus frightened you.”
Not a single word passed between them upon Ebbo’s exploits. Whether Friedel had seen all from the heights, or whether he intuitively perceived that his brother preferred silence, he held his peace, and both were solely occupied in assisting their mother down the pass, the difficulties of which were far more felt now than in the excitement of the ascent; only when they were near home, and the boys were walking in the darkness with arms round one another’s necks, Christina heard Friedel say low and rather sadly, “I think I shall be a priest, Ebbo.”
To which Ebbo only answered, “Pfui!”
Christina understood that Friedel meant that robbery must be a severance between the brothers. Alas! had the moment come when their paths must diverge? Could Ebbo’s step not be redeemed?