"Father!" cried Rauthgundis, and threw herself into the stranger's arms.
Puzzled, and not without displeasure, Athalwin looked on at this meeting.
"So thou art grandfather, who lives up in the northern mountains? God be with thee, grandfather! But why didst thou not tell me at once? And why didst thou not come through the gate, like other honest folk?"
The old man held his daughter by both hands, and looked inquiringly into her eyes.
"She looks happy and blooming," he murmured to himself.
Rauthgundis composed herself. She cast a quick look round the hall.
All the spindles had ceased whirling--except Liuta's--all eyes were curiously fixed upon the old man.
"Will you spin directly, curious girls!" cried Rauthgundis reprovingly. "Thou, Marcia, hast let the flax fell with thy staring; thou knowest the custom--thou wilt spin another spoolful. You others can leave your work. Come, father! Liuta, prepare a tepid bath, and meat and wine----"
"No," said the old man; "the old peasant in the mountains has only the waterfall for bath and drink. And as to eating--outside the fence, near the boundary-stone, lies my knapsack; fetch it for me. There I have my wheaten bread and my sheep's-milk cheese.--What cattle hast thou in the stall, and horses in the pasture?"
It was his first question.