The traveler had listened in silence to the whole relation, but a happy smile upon his lips, and a mild lustre in his moistened eye, showed how much his heart was moved. The wife had ceased to speak, and occupied herself again with her wheel. The traveler remained awhile sunk in deep thought, when, setting the boy hastily down, he advanced toward the husband, and said in a commanding tone:
“Have done with your work.”
The besom-maker did not comprehend his meaning, and was startled at his unusual tone.
“Give over your work, and give me your hand, farmer Nelis.”
“Farmer?” said the besom-maker, astonished.
“Yes,” exclaimed the traveler; “fling the besoms out of the door; I will give you a farm, four milch cows, a calf, two horses, and all that is necessary for housekeeping. You do not believe me,” continued he, and showed the besom-maker a handful of money. “I tell you the truth, I could at once give you the necessary sum; but I respect and esteem you too much to offer you money. But I will make you the proprietor of a farm, and protect your children both before and after my death.”
The good people looked at each other with the tears streaming from their eyes, and did not seem rightly to comprehend what was passing. While the traveler was about to make them fresh promises, Peterken pulled him by the hand as if he had something to communicate.
“What wilt thou, dear child?”
“Herr Jan,” answered the boy, “see, the peasants are coming home from the field; I know now where I shall find Rosa. Shall I run and tell her that you are come?”
The traveler seized Peterken’s hand, and drew him with impatience toward the door, as he said, “Come, come, lead me to her!” And while he made his adieu to the people of the house with his hand, he followed the child, who went with rapid pace through the midst of the village. So soon as they came to the first house, the people ran in wonder from shop and yard to look after them, as if they were something extraordinary. And truly, they presented a singular spectacle; the child with his little shirt and bare feet, who laughing and playful skipped along holding by the hand of the unknown one. The astonished people could not comprehend what the rich gentleman, who at least seemed to be a baron, had to do with the besom-binder’s Peterken. Their astonishment still increased as they saw the stranger stoop down and kiss the child. The only thought which occurred to some of them, and over which they now gossiped at every door, was that the rich gentleman had purchased the child of his parents to bring him up as his own son. People from the city who have no child of their own are often wont to do so; and the besom-maker’s Peterken was the handsomest child in the village, with his large, blue eyes and his light, curly hair. At the same time it was extraordinary that the rich gentleman took the child with him in his bare shirt.