Lorenz could say nothing, he was so dumbfounded at the thought that Vinzi must go.
"Well, Lesa, good-bye until Thursday. I may be here as early as eight o'clock in the morning," and the man looked questioningly at his silent host. "You understand me, don't you?"
"Yes, yes, only too well!" answered Lorenz. "The boy shall be ready; you will not have to wait for him, you may depend upon that."
He accompanied the man out to where his great wagon stood, loaded with sacks and drawn by four strong horses. Just as it drove off with a loud tinkling of bells, the boys came driving their herd, singing and shouting at the cattle. Should he tell those merry boys the distressing news? It would put an end to their happiness, he knew that. He had a soft heart, and could not bring himself to do it, so he greeted the boys cheerfully and things went along just as usual.
After supper came the time for singing, for this had grown to be a custom in the house. They sang as happily as birds in spring, all but the father, for tonight there was a heavy load on his heart. He kept thinking, "I must tell them tonight. The time is too short to wait any longer."
At last came the moment for the mother to say, as she did every evening, "Now we must stop; it has struck nine."
Then he broke the news hurriedly in a few unmistakable words, and they all received it silently, with surprise and sorrow. The mother was the first to find her tongue.
"Of course you told him it was out of the question to let Vinzi go day after tomorrow?" she said with an emotion altogether unusual with her. "I can't understand what he means, to come and take the boy away, as though his leaving didn't amount to anything, the way one might tear a switch out of a hedge. Surely, you told him so?"
"The man did not come to do us any harm," said her husband. "You must not forget that Vinzi's parents have the right to summon him home, and one cannot deny that this was a good opportunity."
By this time the boys had recovered sufficiently to express their feelings, and they raised such an outcry that their father declared the best thing for them was to go to bed; things would look brighter after a night's rest.