Then came Phillipping, and tugged at his blue dress-coat,--for out of spite to his Häuning, he had kept it on, against all law and order,--and said the Herr von Rambow was there, and wished to speak to him.
The Herr von Rambow? Come, wait! now he had one whom he could torment in turn, upon whom he could avenge the sufferings his family had caused him; the Herr von Rambow? wait! he was going in, but there he came himself, towards him.
"Good morning, my respected Herr neighbor, how are you? I wanted to learn how it has gone about the pastor's acre."
So? Pastor's acre? No, wait, don't let him see it! Pomuchelskopp looked down at the little bit of a nose which nature had given him, and said not a word.
"Now, how has it been?" asked Axel. But Pomuchelskopp said neither good nor bad, and looked along his nose, as if it extended for miles.
"My dear Herr Neighbor, what is the matter? It is all right, I hope?"
"I hope so," said Muchel, stooping to pull a weed out of the potatoes; "at least your note for the two thousand thalers is all right."
"What?" asked Axel, astonished, "what has that to do with it?"
Wait, Axel! that is all coming right; keep still! he only wants to tease you a little. What must be, must.
"You, Herr von Rambow," said Muchel, still plucking weeds, and turning a red face up to the young Herr, "you have the two thousand thalers, and I the Pastor's acre,--that is to say, I haven't it."