In the summer garden of the Sword Inn, the linden trees were in full
bloom. The bees came, sipped, and flew away without asking for the
reckoning. But to make up for this, the finches sang without pay; and
the swallows circled round, as though dancing a figure in the air, and
sometimes shot after a honey-laden bee.
Everything rejoiced in its own way. It was a morning so full of
freshness, so full of enjoyment and exuberant life, one could hardly
believe that misery still existed in the world.
A horseman trotted up to the garden fence, stopped, dismounted, and
gave his horse to the servant, telling him to take it home and say to
his wife that if any one asked for him she might send him here; that he
would, however, soon be at home.
"Good morning, doctor," called the hostess, from the veranda. "You have
come just at the right time. We have this moment tapped a keg of beer."
The physician had already heard that refreshing, enticing sound, that
deep thud when the spigot is driven into the keg, and that clear sound
when the bung is drawn.
The hostess brought him the first glass. He held it up to let the sun
shine through the clear amber liquid, and then drank it with evident
enjoyment.
"I had to go out before day this morning, all the way to Hochenbraud,"
said the doctor, as he drained the glass; then said, "Give me another,
for my twins." As he drank the second glass, he told the hostess that
he had that morning assisted at the advent of a pair of twins into the
world; two fine, healthy boys.
"It is curious that something very extraordinary is always happening
to Walderjoergli. His first great grandchildren are twins. It is a
blessing that this strong, upright race should go on growing. They are
honest-hearted men of the old primitive German type."
"They are shrewd, too," interposed the hostess. The physician went on
to say that the primitive Germans must have been crafty rascals, for
savages are always cunning.
"But where is our host?"
"Of course he has gone to the trial. There is an actual pilgrimage
to-day. As early as half-past three this morning we had sold a whole
keg of beer. The witnesses went on the express-train. There were men
and women from Berstingen, from Bieringen, from Zusmarsleiten, from
everywhere, who had nothing to do with the trial, but went from
curiosity. They wanted to see Landolin brought before the court. The
station-master says that when a man is on trial for his life the people
throng to see his distress. He thinks that people will spare neither
pains nor money to gratify their desire to see the misfortunes of
others. But the district-forester says that the people go more because
they long for something new to break in upon the monotony of every-day
life."
The cautious hostess gave this as a report, and not as an opinion of
her own.
As soon as the physician said: "Both are true," she cried:
"I am glad to hear you say so. It is pleasant when one gives medicine
to have the doctor come and say: 'that was right. I should have
prescribed that myself.' But I should like to ask you----"
"What is it?"
"Do you think it possible for Landolin to be acquitted?"
"With God and a jury all things are possible."
"Yes; but then, who killed Vetturi? For he is dead!"
"That question is not on the list."
The hostess went on to tell how Landolin's head-servant, Tobias, had
been talking that morning with every one, and cunningly instructing
them what to say. How he had said, with a laugh, that the life of such
a person as Vetturi was not of enough value to have a man like the
ex-bailiff imprisoned an hour for it. Tobias wanted to pay for what
they all drank; but--and as she told the story, the hostess' face
became a flaming red--she had declared that each person must order her
to take pay from Tobias for him; then it would be known what was to be
thought of him and what might follow later. Some of them seemed to be
frightened at this hint.
The doctor laughed and replied that the rich farmer thought money would
do everything; and his son Peter, instigated by his father of course,
had offered to sell him their fine horse at a third of its value. They
wanted him to testify that Vetturi, who had suffered from severe
illness ever since his childhood, was weak and easily injured; so that
a fall on level ground might have killed him.
"I am sorry for Thoma," began the hostess. "She was such a stately,
fresh-hearted girl; and how well she and the miller, Anton, were suited
to one another. He, too, was here this morning. He is one of the
witnesses, but he staid in the garden, and kept looking at the medal of
honor on his breast. Do you think the trial will be finished in one
day?"
The physician could give no opinion, and the hostess continued:
"Our dear good Madame Pfann was going to Landolin's house to spend this
sad day with his wife and Thoma. I advised her not to go now. They will
need her soon enough.
"I don't believe there is another pure soul like hers in the world.
Why, she finds something pure hidden even in a man like Landolin. Our
Madame Pfann is a woman such as they had in the time of the Apostles."
"Bravo!" cried the doctor, "I have seen a rare wonder: one woman
unreservedly praising another."
"Yes; who can know the judge's wife and not praise her? But she seeks
neither praise nor thanks from anybody."
"She needs none. He to whom nature has given the blessing of such a
good heart is the possessor of all human good."
The telegraph messenger came into the garden, and handed the physician
a dispatch.
"I've got it now," cried the physician, when he had read it. "When does
the next express train leave?"
"In seven minutes."
The physician explained to her that the defendant had called for his
oral opinion. He left word for his wife that he was called away, and
hastened to the station, where he met Thoma, just coming in.
"Are you going too?" asked he.
"No; I just want to send word to my brother to telegraph me the
decision as soon as it is announced."
"I will attend to that for you."
The train sped away. Thoma asked the telegraph messenger, who was a
brother of the "Galloping Cooper," to wait all night and bring her the
dispatch as soon as received.
Thoma walked homeward. From the hill she could see the train in the
distance. It sped by hamlets and villages, through newly-mown meadows,
past fields where potatoes were being gathered in little heaps. The
passengers talked together about the flood which had done such great
damage in Switzerland; of the political questions of the day; of the
conflict with Rome. The physician heard it all as in a dream. It
troubled him that he had after all to testify in Landolin's case. How
could the defence hope for any advantage from his testimony?
The train stopped at the county-town. One of the court officers was
waiting for him with a carriage, and took him to the court-house. The
air within was damp and sultry.