The man approached. The veins on his forehead had swollen like blue cords. He did not dare look at him.
“Your surplus wages are five marks and fifty pfennigs. Here they are. In five minutes you must be gone.”
The servant gave him such a terribly sinister glance that Paul was alarmed at the thought that he had suffered this man near him so long without any foreboding; he kept his eyes fixed upon him, for he feared every moment to be attacked by him.
But the servant turned away in silence, went to the stables, where he tied up his bundle, and two minutes later walked out at the gate. During the whole terrible scene he had not uttered a single word.
“That’s done! now to father,” said Paul, firmly resolved to bear all blows and abuse calmly.
He unlocked the door, and expected that his father would rush upon him.
The old man was sitting huddled up in the corner of the sofa, staring before him. He did not move, either, when Paul came up to him and said, beseechingly,
“I did not like doing it, father, but it had to be done.”
He only gave him a shy look askance; then said, bitterly,
“You can do what you like; I am an old man, and you are the strongest.”