She drew a deep breath, tore the door open, took a run and rushed downstairs. Where was he lying? Where should she find him?
"Good morning," said Mr. Tiralla. He was in a good humour and was just coming out of his room. His eyes were still full of sleep and he was rubbing them.
But his eyes were quite clear, they still saw the light of day. The woman started back as though she had seen a ghost.
"Why are you so frightened, eh?" he cried, laughing. "You've slept too long, I suppose? Ha, ha."
She did not answer. Even if her life had depended upon it, she could not have uttered a single word. It was too terrible, too terrible!
He did not pay any attention to her silence nor to her disturbed looks. He was in a very happy frame of mind and was waving a letter in his hand, a letter from his soldier son.
Mikolai had not written for a long time, he did not care for writing. But now he wrote:
"Dear Parents,--Your son, Mikolai, sends you his love, and he is very well. I can tell you I am pleased to get away from the army. It is not the work for me, I prefer to till the ground. And my friend, Martin Becker, who is a miller by profession, but has not got a mill at present, because, although he has some money, it is not enough to buy a big mill, and he won't have a small one, will come home with me. He will help to manage the farm. Dear father, you will not want so many hands then; we will do everything, and you will like Martin. He has no parents, and hails from Klein-Hauland, near Opalenitza. I will let you know the day we are coming. Dear mother, if you will be kind to Becker I shall be grateful to you, for he is a good fellow. Dear sister, I kiss you in my thoughts; our Rosa has, no doubt, grown into a pretty girl. We shall come, all being well, in seven weeks' time. With a kiss to you all,
"Your affectionate Son."
That was his son, just as he was in reality, his dear, good son. A sudden affection for the boy who had been away from home so long awoke in Mr. Tiralla's heart. It was such a long time since he had seen anything of him. He had been away almost three years, and although he had twice driven to Breslau during that time and had looked him up at the barracks, still it was very different from having him at home. It was a good thing that the boy was coming.