"Mr. Ex-Bailiff," began the lady.
"Please say simply Landolin, without the Mr. or ex-bailiff."
"Well then, Landolin, a while ago you said a word which I will not
repeat. You said it in derision, in anger and vexation. Landolin, you
are acquitted, but I wish that you would acquit yourself, and that you
can do to-day, to me, by my help."
"Madam, I went to confession to-day, to the priest, at church."
"Very well. I don't mix myself in church affairs; but I see in your
eyes, I see in your heart, that you have a feeling like one who strives
to hide a secret sorrow, and thinks that it is not seen. You do not
feel yourself free, and clear, and at ease."
The veins in Landolin's forehead swelled in anger, but the lady looked
steadily into his face as though he were a wild animal that could be
tamed by a firm, unwavering look. His eyelids rose and fell quickly,
his tightly compressed lips quivered, and his hand that lay on the
table clenched nervously.
"I know what you want to say," said the lady, quickly; "you have a
right to do so: only say right out that I must leave your house; that I
had no right to force myself into your home, or into your heart. Only
say it, and I will go."
"No, stay. You are a brave woman, I must say. I should not have thought
it possible, never,--a woman! Speak without fear. From such a woman as
you I will hear anything. I think there can be but one such as you in
the world."
The lady blushed, and for hardly longer than a thought takes the
flattery disconcerted her, and seemed to turn her from her course.
Landolin perceived this momentary confusion, and smiled triumphantly.
"After all, she's only a woman, and, like every woman, can be bought
with dress and praise!"
Controlling herself quickly, the lady resumed, with a tone that came
from her inmost soul:
"Landolin, men are put in the world together that one may help
another----"
"I see nothing of it. Nobody troubles himself about his neighbors,"
interrupted Landolin.
Did you ever do otherwise yourself? Did you formerly concern yourself
about others? the lady wanted to say; but she was quick-witted enough
to suppress that, and replied instead:
"You have a right to be bitter against the world."
Landolin looked at her in astonishment. He felt something of that mild
art of healing which does not try to soften sorrow by denying it and
covering it over, but by recognizing it in its reality and importance.
"Thank you," said Landolin, "but I have taken advantage of that right.
The world is nothing to me, and I am nothing to the world."
"May I ask a question?"
"Why not?"
"Then tell me if the misfortune, or accident, in this poor fellow's
case had happened, not to you, but to Titus, to the Oberbauer, or to
Tobelurban, would Landolin of Reutershoefen have acted differently
toward him?"
Landolin shrugged his shoulders and whistled softly. He followed her
through the first, second, even the third thought, but at the fourth he
stopped, and, like a balking horse, was not to be moved from the spot.
With an encouraging smile the lady said:
"I will answer for you. 'Yes, Madam Pfann; I should have acted toward
the others just as they have acted toward me.'"
Landolin nodded.
"You are sharp; you cut one through and through."
"Very well; then do not be so timid and afraid."
"I afraid? Of what?"
"Of your own thoughts. Within Landolin there are two Landolins, and one
of them wants to cast out the other. And now I want to say, don't turn
away the only one who can help you."
"Nobody can help me."
"Yes, yes, there is one, and he is a strong man; only he does not know
it now. And do you know what his name is? Landolin of Reutershoefen. You
alone can help yourself, and then you will have no one else to thank."
"Yes; but how?"
"Take a drink first, and give me one, and then listen."