As Bräsig came to the parsonage, the young Frau Pastorin met him at the door; "God bless you, Uncle Bräsig, I am glad you have come here,--no, not here, in Pumpelhagen there are dreadful stories. Dr. Strump has been here,--our Jürn was taken sick suddenly, last night, he was delirious,--and I ran for the doctor, who had been at Pumpelhagen, to speak to him as he passed through the village,--and he told me dreadful things,--not he, properly speaking, he only let himself be questioned, but his coachman told me that--ah, come in, it blows so out here!" and she drew him into the house. Here she told him all that the people said, that her dear Uncle Habermann had shot Axel, and had gone off, nobody knew where, but probably to take his own life. Bräsig comforted her with news that Habermann was alive, and told her about the shooting, then inquired how it was with the young Herr, and learned that Dr. Strump did not think it a dangerous case. He then went to see Jürn, who apparently had an attack of pneumonia. By this time, it was noon, and he must pursue his journey to Pumpelhagen, to attend to Habermann's affairs, and must also look out for another coachman. He inquired about in the village, but nobody would go to drive, and help him to load the goods; one had this, another that excuse, and finally he resolved to play coachman himself, when old Ruhrdanz, the weaver, said, "Well, it is all one to me, what he says to it; if he wants to chicane me, he may. I will drive you, Herr Inspector."
Bräsig made no objections, being very glad to find some one to help him with the loading, and they drove off.
"Ruhrdanz," asked Bräsig, "what did you mean by chicaning?"
"Why, Herr, he has forbidden us all to do anything for the folks at the parsonage; we must not even take a step for them."
"Who has forbidden you?"
"Eh, he, our Herr Pomuchelskopp."
"Infamous Jesuit!" said Bräsig to himself.
"If we did so, he told us, we might fodder our cows next winter on sawdust, he wouldn't give us a handful of hay or straw, and we might build with bricks, for he would give us no wood or turf."
Bräsig turned dark with anger, but the old man was fairly launched, and went on, under full sail:
"And we must be always ready for him, night or day. I was out for him, the whole holiday, and got home last night, at ten o'clock."