"Who?" asked Johannes, all at sea, and turning pale.
"Well, that furious aunt of yours, of course."
Johannes heard his name called, and he was requested to go with them. While he was hesitating, in miserable silence, Marjon's sister began scolding, in a sharp voice.
But the policemen acted as if they did not hear her, and the chief began, in a kindly, admonitory tone: "Young man, you are a minor—you must obey the orders of your family. Here you are not in your own station. Your aunt is a very nice and excellent lady. You will be much better off with her than you are here. Your aunt is influential, and you must do what she says. That is the wisest way."
In his uncertainty, Johannes looked round at Markus and asked:
"What shall I do?"
Gravely, without any consolation in the look he gave him, Markus said: "Do you think, Johannes, that I shall tell you every time what you ought to do? That would not make you any wiser. Do what seems to you best, and do not be afraid."
"Come, boy, this isn't a matter of choice," said the gentleman with the cane. "You can't stay, and that's the end of it."
And when Johannes started to follow, Marjon threw herself upon his shoulder, and began to cry. The Fair-people drew together in groups, muttering.
But Johannes did not cry. He was thinking of his Aunt Seréna's tidy house, and of the fresh, spacious chamber with its large bed curtained with green serge, and of the big bed-tassel.