Ridding himself of his load as quickly as possible, Renti was off and away into the sunny afternoon. He would go and visit the pasture once more, and the little stone wall, and the alder trees. While he was yet at a distance he saw that Gretchen was sitting on the wall. As soon as she saw him she came running eagerly toward him.
"How nice that you have come once again!" she called to him. "It is so long since I have heard anything of you! It is Sunday, and you could come to-day without running away, so we will be happy all the afternoon."
They had reached the wall; Gretchen seated herself upon it, and Renti stood before her.
"No, I did not run away," he said sullenly; "but at five I am to be back. I won't do it, though; the dog isn't here, and I won't go home until dark; I don't care what happens."
"O Renti! are you beginning your bad ways again?" wailed Gretchen. "They said that at Stony Acre you might be made to behave; but now you mean to disobey your mistress, and you will get a whipping, and everything will be as bad as before."
"It has been all the time," Renti replied, casting wild looks about, and growing more and more violent in his speech as he proceeded. "If she wants to thrash me, I don't care; and if she wants to pound me to death, so much the better. It's all over with me anyway. If I could only chop down every tree on her whole farm!"
"O Renti, Renti! do not say such things!" cried Gretchen in terror; for she saw in imagination the hideous wish fulfilled, and all the beautiful trees lying prone upon the ground. "If you yield to your temper in this way, you will grow worse and worse, and finally—yes, Renti, father said that if you did not mend your ways it would go hard with you. Oh, if you could only be good again, as you used to be!" And Gretchen covered her face with both hands and broke out into bitter weeping.
Renti threw himself on the ground, moaning: "I can't be good any more; I don't know how, and there isn't any hope for me, and I'd like to die this minute!"