"What's the matter with him?" inquired the clerk.
"Oh, God knows," she replied; "he came home with the cows as early as four o'clock because he felt sick." "Frederick, Frederick, answer me! Shall I go for the doctor?"
"No, no," he groaned; "it is only the colic; I'll be better soon." He lay down again; his face twitched convulsively with pain; then his color returned. "Go," he said, feebly; "I must sleep; then it will pass away."
"Mistress Mergel," asked the clerk earnestly, "are you sure that
Frederick came home at four and did not go away again?"
She stared in his face. "Ask any child on the street. And go away?—I wish to God he could!"
"Didn't he tell you anything about Brandes?"
"In the name of God, yes—that Brandes had reviled him in the woods and reproached him with our poverty, the rascal! But God forgive me, he is dead! Go!" she continued; "have you come to insult honest people? Go!"
She turned to her son again, as the clerk went out. "Frederick, how do you feel?" asked his mother. "Did you hear? Terrible, terrible—without confession or absolution!"
"Mother, mother, for God's sake, let me sleep. I can stand no more!"
At this moment John Nobody entered the room; tall and thin like a bean-pole, but ragged and shy, as we had seen him five years before. His face was even paler than usual. "Frederick," he stuttered, "you are to come to your Uncle immediately; he has work for you; without delay, now!"