As Landolin still remained silent, the miller felt called upon to
speak.
"I can well understand that it must be hard for you to let your
daughter leave your house; we found it so when our only daughter was
married. My wife--it is from her that Anton gets his ready speech--said
that when the daughter who sang as she went up and down the stairs is
gone, then it seems that all the cheerfulness of the house has flown
away like a bird."
At these stupid, soft-hearted words, Landolin gave the miller a
disdainful look. But he did not notice this, and went on in a voice too
low for the lovers to hear:
"I needn't praise Anton to you any more. He belongs to you as well as
to me. He is well educated; the military authorities wished to keep him
in the army. They said he would be made an officer, but that is not for
one of us. It will not be long before your daughter is the wife of the
bailiff. My wife, thank God, lived to see him come home from the war
with the great medal of honor. I'm sure you are glad of it too. A man
with that medal is worth much, I do not mean in money, but wherever he
goes he is esteemed and respected, and needn't stand back for anybody,
no matter who he is."
"We needn't do that, either," said Landolin, looking at the miller
arrogantly. He laughed aloud when the miller added:
"The judge's wife put it well when she said, 'Wherever he goes he has
the honorable recognition of the highest rank in the whole kingdom.'"
"Hoho!" cried Landolin, so loudly that even the lovers started. There
was nothing more said; for, as the fair was over, the miller's
relatives and the brother of Landolin's wife came in. The farmer's wife
greeted her brother affectionately; and Landolin shook hands with him,
and bade him welcome. He and his brother-in-law were enemies, as the
brother-in-law sided with Titus; but to-day it was only proper that he
should be invited to the family festival.
They sat down together to the feast, when the miller remarked that next
Sunday he would go with the lovers to visit the patriarch Walderjoergli,
in the forest, and announce to him their betrothal. Landolin's face
reddened to the roots of his hair, and he exclaimed:
"I don't care anything for the patriarch. I don't care anything for old
customs; and, as for me, Walderjoergli, with his long beard, is no
saint; he's not down in my calendar."
"He is a relative of my wife," replied the miller, "and you know very
well of how much importance he is."
"Just as much as there is in my glass," answered Landolin, after he had
drained it.
His wife, fearing a quarrel, declared she had great respect for
Walderjoergli, and begged her husband to say nothing against him. Thoma
joined her, and laid her hand on her father's shoulder, imploring him
not to stir up a dispute unnecessarily.
Landolin smiled on his child; poured a fresh glass of wine, and drank
to the lovers' health.
Anton and Thoma now started to go, but Landolin cried excitedly:
"Hold on! Wait a moment, Anton! You mustn't ask for the marriage to
take place before Candlemas. Give me your hand on it."
"I have no hand to give. I have already given it to Thoma," replied
Anton, laughing, as he went away with his betrothed.