"Herr von Rambow, it cannot be possible----"
"Did you hear me? I shall not rent it again!"
"But Herr, I beg of you, reflect----"
"Eh, what!" exclaimed Axel, and closed the window. "A tedious old fellow!" he exclaimed, "an old fogy!" and he went back to his chair, and thought about his paddocks; but the fine pictures which his fancy had painted would not return, he must first get rid of the thought that he had again committed an injustice.
And the old man? How deeply grieved he went back to the meadow! How his attachment and gratitude to the late Kammerrath struggled against the mortification he had so often endured from the only son of his old master! And of what use was this struggle? Of what use was he to the young Herr? None at all! Step by step, the young man went forward to his destruction, and his hand which could save him, and so gladly would, was thrust aside, and his heart which was brimful of love and friendliness to the young Herr, and his whole household, was treated as if it beat in the breast of an unfaithful servant, who thought merely of his own reward.
"Triddelsitz," said he, when he came to the meadow, "this corner, between the brook and the hill, the Herr will have sowed with grass; he will come out himself, and show you about it; let them sow the barley a little thinner."
"What is he going to do with it?" asked Fritz.
"He will tell you himself, when he sees fit. There he comes, from the garden," said the old man, and went out of his master's way.
"Triddelsitz," said Herr von Rambow, "this piece of ground, up to the hill, is to be sowed with grass; you shall get the seed from David to-morrow; I am going to have paddocks here."
"Famous!" cried Fritz. "I have always thought of that, whether we couldn't have paddocks, or something of the kind."