"It is always late when I come, and then I have to go right, back. And you are never here. I run home every day to Lindenhof, and if no one is there to see, I go into the barn and look down through the feed holes at the cows. And Brindle always knows me, and says 'Moo' when she sees me. Oh, I can't endure it! I can't endure it!" groaned Renti, pressing his face against the cold stones as though to wring pity from them.
Gretchen's eyes filled with tears.
"If you run away every day, Renti, don't they whip you?"
"Of course they do. They'll whip me to-day, too."
"O Renti! then go home as fast as you can, or they will be more and more severe with you. And don't run away to-morrow, nor the next day, nor any more, so that they won't whip you," entreated Gretchen.
"I don't mind it very much," said Renti. "It isn't so bad as not running away."
He was still pressing his face against the stones, but at length Gretchen drew him away and entreated him to go. It made her heart ache to think that they would beat him, and she hoped he might be spared if he ran very fast.
So Renti turned and darted off down the road.
Gretchen went in and told her mother all about it,—how sorry she felt for Renti and how dreadful it was that they should whip him. The mother was sorry for the boy, too; but she said that he must learn to reconcile himself to the change and not run away any more. And she told Gretchen to tell him, if she saw him again, that he would be welcome on Sundays at The Alders, if they allowed him to come, but that he would certainly not be welcome if he ran away.