"Quiet, Frau Pastorin! and they were not sitting in a ditch, they were standing among the pole-beans, so that the woman must have got into the garden from over the fence, in the rear, since she had not gone through the house. Kählertsch in her wicked jealousy, called Frau Kräuger, the butcher's wife, to come and look also, and they two watched the other two, till they disappeared among the beans, and after a little the woman got over the fence, and the weaver busied himself in the garden, whereupon the two women quietly retired. So far we had got, and this was true, for the butcher's wife swore to it.
"Then the Herr Burgomeister says, if Kählertsch would only speak out, we might learn more. Then I say, 'Herr Burgomeister, woman's jealousy!' then he says, 'But how?' Then I say, 'Herr Burgomeister, I knew something about it, when I had three sweethearts at once,--jealousy is a terrible passion, and it knows neither mercy nor pity. Let me try her.' and when Kählertsch came again I said, in an off-hand way, 'Well, if the weaver had not married any body else, meantime, I suppose he could marry his divorced wife again.' And the Herr Burgomeister took my hint, and said yes, if he wanted to, the clerical consistory could give him a desperation. You see, that put the woman, herself into a desperation, and she burst out, if it was coming to that, she would tell something, the weaver had brought money with him out of the garden, for before that he had had no money in his cupboard, but afterwards she had looked, and had found money there, several double louis-d'ors. You see, she had trapped herself, showing that she had been, with a night-key, into other people's cupboards. The Herr Burgomeister had her arrested and put in prison, so we now had the three rogues fast.
"When the weaver came in again, and lied again, as to how he had come by the money, and lied to the very face of the butcher's wife, that he had not been with his wife in the garden, you see, the butcher's wife got angry too, and said she had seen the calves of her legs, as she was climbing over the fence,--don't take it amiss, Frau Pastorin,--but she said so. And then the weaver was sentenced to have ten on his jacket, for our laws,--thank God!--still have penalties for infamous lying, and the Herr Burgomeister talked to him very solemnly, and told him he was a master weaver, and he should be degraded from his trade; but would he confess? not a bit of it. But so soon as he had had his first three on the jacket, he fell on his knees,--which was a dreadful sight to me, so that I turned away,--and said he would confess everything, and he did so, since he had not stolen it himself, but his wife. The woman had stolen the money from the day-laborer, Regel, taking the black packet from his waistcoat pocket, when he was intoxicated, and hid it in the woods, under the moss and bushes, and there it had lain for two years, and whenever she went to get wood, she would take out a couple of pieces, which she would get changed by the help of some of the old Jew women,--she has been to Kurz, also. And then, perhaps a year and a half ago, she met the weaver, and asked him if he would not marry her again, for she was no longer poor, she had something now, and she gave him a double louis-d'or; he would'nt listen to her then, however, because at that time he was in love with Kählertsch,--I beg you, Frau Pastorin, with Kählertsch! They might offer me Kählertsch on a silver salver, I should never fall in love with her. But he took the louis-d'or, and she teased him again, and made him other presents, till at last his inclination began to return to her, and he wanted nothing more to do with Kählertsch. And she showed him all her treasure, and they changed it about, now here and now there, to keep it concealed, and finally, this spring, they locked it up in a box, and he threw the black cloth into the butcher's compost heap, and they buried the treasure in the garden. And we went there with the weaver, and found fourteen hundred thalers, among the potatoes. Just think of it--fourteen hundred thalers among the potatoes! They had spent the rest of it."
"Good heavens!" cried the Frau Pastorin, "how clever you and the Herr Burgomeister must have been, to get so much out of them."
"So we are, Frau Pastorin," said Uncle Bräsig, quietly.
"But the woman?" cried the little Frau. "She was the nearest to it."
"Yes, Frau Pastorin, that was an exciting moment, for the Herr Burgomeister had concealed the indicium of the box and the gold, under his every-day hat, and when the weaver's wife was confronted with her husband, and once more admonished to tell the truth, and persisted in lying, then the Herr Burgomeister lifted his hat, and said, 'It is no matter. We have the money already.' You see, when she saw the box, she flew at the weaver, like a fury, and in a moment she had torn his whole face, just with her nails, and screamed, 'Cursed wretch! I would have made him happy, and he has made me unhappy!' Frau Pastorin, love is madder than jealousy. Kählertsch never would have done that! But, Frau Pastorin, our fish must be quite cold."
"Ah, Bräsig, how can you think of anything like that. But I must go to Habermann, I must tell him--"
"That you are very glad he is so triumphantly cleared." said Bräsig, drawing her down on the sofa again; "so you shall, but not yet. For, you see, I believe Habermann has something to tell the Lord, and Louise will help him, and that is right too, but she is enough; for, Frau Pastorin,--as Pastorin you should know,--our Lord is a jealous God, and when He communes with a thankful soul he does not suffer that others should approach, but draws back, and, where the presence of God has shone, human sympathy must wait till afterwards."
The little Frau Pastorin looked at him in astonishment, and finally broke out: