And so thinking, he paused at the door, and called through it, "Who knocks? Who is there?"
"Open to us; we would speak with thee," said a gruff voice, which Tonie did not recognise.
"That may not be," replied the boy. "My father is from home, and we are only children here; go your way, I cannot open to you."
"Alas!" said another voice, shrill and sharp, which Tonie thought sounded like that of Hervitz Valden. "My companion here hath cut himself grievously with an axe, and is faint with loss of blood. He would fain lie down for an hour or two. Let us in, and suffer him to rest on a bed for a while, and after that we will go on our way."
Just at that moment, Blonda came down, roused by the noise, and stood at her brother's elbow, wrapped in an old dark cloak.
"A man wounded with an axe; shall I let him and the other in? How thinkest thou, Blonda?" said Tonie.
"No, brother, we can but obey the commands given to us by those who are wiser than we," replied the little girl. "If harm should come of our opening, we should be blamed, and rightly. If what the man says is true, that his fellow is wounded, and would fain lie down, that what doth hinder him from lying on the moss under the trees? It is warm weather, and the ground is not damp."
"Ay, Blonda, thou art right," said Tonie.
Then he called through the door once more—"Pass on, travellers; we cannot open to you."
"Now listen, thou young imp," said another voice, which Tonie knew could belong to none other than Dorlat Valden. "We have lately been robbed of a bag of coin, and we would get back our own. We have some reason to think that the money has found its way to this cottage. Let us in quietly, and we will take our own and depart. Refuse to admit us, and thou must take the consequences. We know that thy father is disabled and in the hospital at Klingengolf. There is not a soul within miles of this place, and therefore think not that you children will have help. And, moreover, we have an old grudge against thy father, Tonie, seeing that he is a friend of that meddling old pastor, Bertholm Oshart, and if thou do not our bidding, we are ready for revenge. But I waste time in parleying with thee. Once more, wilt thou open to us?"