Trude is nowhere to be seen.
"She has been in the garden since five o'clock," says Martin with a pleased smile. "Everything goes like clock-work since she's at the head of affairs. As quick as a weasel, up at peep of day and always merry, always ready with a song and a laugh."
On their way to the mill a young turnip whizzes past the brothers', heads. Martin turns round and laughingly threatens with his finger.
"Who was that?" asks Johannes, peering in bewilderment round the empty yard.
"Who but she?"
"But can you see her anywhere?"
"Not a trace of her! Oh, she's a teasing elf who can become invisible at will." And with a beaming face he follows his brother to the mill.
The hours pass by. Johannes wants to show what he can do and works with twofold energy.
While he is superintending the storing of the grain on the gallery, some one from below gently pulls his coat-tail. He looks down;--Trude, with sun-heated face and sparkling eyes, stands on the steps and invites him to come to breakfast. "In a minute," he says, finishes his task and jumps down.
"Brr!" she says, shaking herself, "how you look!