and Katharine did not find out about his plans until Hallheimer
had come again and again, when at last, one evening, Fausch signed the
lease which the trader brought him for the blacksmith shop on the
mountain. He returned after dark that evening from Waltheim, where he
had gone with Hallheimer to settle the transaction. He found Cain with
Katharine in the kitchen. The boy was freshly washed and had on clean
clothes; with bare feet and his sleeves rolled up, he was sitting on
the chopping block which Katharine used for chopping kindling wood,
watching her peel potatoes. He was attached to the worn old woman, who
had cherished and protected him when no one else troubled about him. A
small lamp hung from the ceiling, the fire on the hearth was burning
brightly, and threw its flickering light over his figure and his blond
hair. The conversation had languished, and Cain was singing softly to
himself in his beautiful deep voice. When he stopped, Katharine said:
"Sing some more!" Above the bubbling of the kettle she heard Fausch's
step. Then he entered the room. He had on his coat and his blacksmith's
cap, he bid them good evening and came over to the table where the maid
was sitting. "Well," said he, "next month we shall be moving."

The two looked at him and did not know what to say. It was almost a new
thing to them that he should come and speak a word to them of his own
accord.

"Where are we going?" asked Cain. His bearing toward Fausch was
peculiar. Ever since he had known of the stain that clung to him, a
sort of lost, uncertain feeling had come over him, which led him to
behave with blind obedience and quiet patience to his father. Without a
word he had submitted when Fausch started to teach him his own trade.
Without a word he had seen the change that was taking place in
Stephen's behavior, and that the smith was trying more and more to
protect him from the contempt with which he met everywhere; but he felt
his father's friendship as something undeserved, and accordingly still
more painful than his former harshness. Therefore there was a
distressed expression on his face, as he now raised it to Fausch; he
suspected what had led Stephen to decide on going away.

"I am sick and tired of this place," said Fausch.

Cain got off the chopping block. Leaning against it, he stood up and
looked his father in the face. "Are you--are you going away on my
account?" said he.

Fausch turned to the door, as if he took no inte