Oswald felt deep pity for the lonely, helpless old age of the woman. He said, merely in order to say something which he thought might be of some little comfort to the poor old soul:
"Well, you will see all your dear ones again in the other world."
"In the other world?" said the old woman, glancing up at the blue sky. "I believe in no other world."
"What! You do not believe in it?" asked Oswald, astonished.
The old woman shook her head.
"You are quite young yet, Mr.--how was your name? Stein--yes--you are quite young yet, Mr. Stein; but when you have seen as many people die as I have, you too will no longer believe in it. When a man dies, he is dead--really dead. And then, at the resurrection, as they call it, what would become of all the people? In our village there is not a soul left of all who lived when I was young. And the others, who were born after me, they have grown old and they are dead too. And thus new ones are coming all the time, and more new ones. No; the whole earth would not have room enough for all these people."
"But perhaps in other stars?" suggested Oswald.
"How could they get there? No; no one gets away from the earth, but they all get under the earth--all--all;" and the old woman again smoothed the folds of her dress on her knees.
"The body, yes; but not the soul."
"Well, I don't know," said the matron, shaking her head; "but I know this much, that when any one dies he is really dead, and we say, Now the poor soul is at rest. And what better can we wish one another than rest, whether we are noblemen or peasants, young folks or old?"