"I have done what I could; I am powerless in this respect," replied Anton, gloomily.
"Then, my son, allow me to tell you that your warlike apparatus is not very encouraging. With the dozen or two that you can collect, you will hardly keep off an invasion of rascals. You can not even defend the premises with that handful, to say nothing of covering the ladies' escape. Have you no prospect of procuring any soldiers?"
"None," replied Anton.
"A thoroughly comfortable, cheerful prospect!" cried Fink. "And, in spite of it, you have sown your fields, and the little farm works on. I have heard from Karl how it looked when you came, and what improvements you have made; you have managed capitally. No American, no man of any other country, would have done the same; in a desperate case, commend me to the German. But the ladies and your infant establishment must be better protected. Hire twenty able-bodied men; they will guard the house."
"You forget that we are as little able to feed twenty idle mouths as is the owl on the tower."
"Let them work!" cried Fink; "you have here land enough to employ a hundred hands. Have you no swamps to drain, or ditches to dig? There is a row of wretched puddles yonder."
"That is work for another season," replied Anton, "the ground is too wet now."
"Have a hundred acres of forest sown or planted. Does the brook hold out in the summer?"
"I hear that it does," replied Anton.
"Then turn it to some account."