“I know something I’d like much better,” replied Vinzi with hesitation. Then he was silent.
In surprise the farmer gazed at his son.
“Listen to me, Vinzi. I don’t mind if you enjoyed the mountain so much, and I won’t say a word against it. Only I don’t understand what you should have found up there better than we have. What is it? Tell me!”
“Oh, the most beautiful thing I know is Pater Silvanus’ harmonium in the hospice. My dearest wish would be to learn to play it as well as he does,” answered Vinzi.
Vinzenz Lesa directed a searching glance at his son. After a pause he said, “Do you mean that seriously, Vinzi, or is it meant to be a joke?”
“Oh, no, I mean it,” answered Vinzi.
“So,” said the father abruptly. “Now I’ll tell you something, too, for you ought to know what I think. I sent you away because I wanted you to learn all about farming in company with those jolly boys. You simply have to learn to enjoy it sooner or later. I thought that your eyes had been opened and you had matured and come back more sensible. Now I find you just as childish as when you started, with nothing in your head but nonsense and foolish music. But I’ll find other ways and means to teach you sense. After all there must be some way for a person to see how lucky he is. I should never have thought that you could have started such rubbish up there, too. Well, that settles it! You shall never go back! I’ll still find a way.”
Vinzi had listened calmly to everything the father had said. But the last words seemed to crush him like a thunderbolt. The moment his father turned and went towards the house, he threw himself on the ground. By pressing his face into the grass he tried to stifle his violent sobs. He had secretly feared that his father would not want to hear anything about his longing to study music, and he had not dared to have any hope in that respect. All his finest anticipations, however, had been built upon returning to the mountain. Everything was now at an end and the terrible words, “You shall never go back,” resounded over and over again.
“Vinzi, you are to”—cried Stefeli now, but she stopped suddenly and ran over to him. “What is it, Vinzi?” she asked, terribly frightened on hearing his sobs and groans.
