schoolhouse, which stood in an open square in the middle of the
village, as if some errand took him further, but he stopped in a side
street or behind a neighboring house and waited, with his bare arms
folded across his chest.

An acquaintance asked him what he was doing.

"Waiting, if you want to know," he answered.

When the school children suddenly came streaming out of the
schoolhouse, he watched for Cain, and when he had spied him, looked
after him for a while, until the boy had left the village behind, and
was walking toward the wood that separated the smithy from the village.
Then indeed, he stepped into one of the ale houses, which are numerous
in Waltheim, as in every village, took his morning drink, but said
nothing here, either, about what had brought him to town, and then took
himself off homeward, as surly as he had come.

"He's watching his boy," said the Waltheimers, and thought themselves
very clever to have found this out. "He seems to have some kind of
suspicion about the boy. The poor fellow must have a pretty hard time
at home with a harsh, bristly chap like Fausch."

When the smith stood on guard for the third time, the villagers found
out their mistake. This time he had slipped into the village unnoticed,
from somewhere in the environs, and had taken his stand in a narrow
space between some houses, that was not really a street, directly
opposite the schoolhouse. Just as the clock had struck eleven, a great
noise was heard from the schoolhouse, as usual, the door flew open and
the children rushed out. The smallest and most turbulent came first.
The older girls and boys, among whom Cain belonged, came out of the
building more slowly and gently, with a sort of dignity. Cain Fausch
was alone, as always. The smith had for some time noticed that
something was wrong with the children, because Cain was always alone
and the others seemed to avoid him. Today he was among the first of the
older ones to leave the building. He walked slowly across the open
space, looking neat and slender; he had been for a good while carrying
his books under his arm instead of in a hempen satchel. He carried his
head not merely erect, but slightly thrown backward, perhaps he
involuntarily carried it higher since he had realized that there was
ill-will against him in the village and that people stared at him. As
the little crowd of smaller children began to scatter, a few looked
after him. Two little scamps were standing cl