"Heaven forbid!" replied Jochen.
The gentleman nodded and was about to continue his walk, but paused again as if struck by the troubled expression of Jochen's face, and added: "You needn't take it to heart, Prebrow; it serves the Rahnk right; their conduct is a disgrace to Wiessow and the whole region, and after all there is no one who would not be glad to have you get rid of the rascals. And when I come back next time, Prebrow, I shall of course lodge with you; this time I must keep out of the way."
The gentleman nodded, walked lightly away, and after casting a rapid glance around him, entered the pilot's house.
"A damned miserable business," muttered Jochen, without exactly knowing which of the two he meant, the one going on in his own house, or the other of which the Herr steuer-inspector had just spoken. It was probably the former; the second certainly did not concern him at all, but it was a secret the more, and he already had far too much trouble with one.
"Good-morning, Jochen."
This time Jochen was actually frightened. There was his brother Clas in the very spot where the Herr inspector had just been standing.
"Why, good Heavens, Clas, what brings you here?" he exclaimed.
"Ah! you may well say that, Jochen," answered Clas.
"Is the smithy burned?"
"Why, Jochen, how can you ask such stupid questions?"