ce--I think."

At that Simmen laughed: "Only not for my girl--not for Vincenza! She
can take her choice by and by--Smith--I tell you, down in Italy as well
as on our side." His laugh turned into a smile. It had done him good to
boast of his own property, while speaking of his daughter's prospects.

The smith looked about him almost timidly. It was strange to see such a
self-willed man stand there helpless and confused. He laid one hand on
the landlord's arm, and his hand was trembling. "I will give the boy up
to you," said he. "If I go away from him altogether, it will soon be
forgotten, what he was, and how it was when we were together. Believe
me, Simmen. And then when I am gone you could lead him just as you want
to. And by and by no one would ask any more what his name was, or where
he came from--and if he does not turn out as you expect--you could send
him away any time--you could--"

He stopped suddenly. Then he reached out his hand, because he could not
find the right words, and his face blazed scarlet. It came over him
that he was like a beggar. Simmen looked silently at the floor. He was
a reasonable man, and he saw what his words cost the smith, indeed he
hardly recognized him. And the boy was a good boy, one in whom you
could take some pleasure--and--Simmen could not help it, that
Vincenza's face seemed to come before his eyes. The girl's behavior did
not seem as if the smith's boy meant merely a passing fancy to her.

"You'll never repent it," Fausch forced the words out.

Thereupon the landlord replied thoughtfully: "So let it be then. I will
give him employment, Franz, and--he will stay here alone, as I said!
Time will show what comes of it--not that he is to think--that he is
going to get the girl--But he will do well enough for me so far!"

The last few words Simmen said for his own satisfaction, meaning to
cloak his own yielding disposition.

"Good!" said Fausch, and no more, not one unnecessary word. The way in
which he now spared his words, showed how hard it must have been to
bring them out before. His awkwardness slowly changed back again into
moroseness. Once, when he was already on the threshold, it seemed as if
something more had occurred to him. He half turned back toward Simmen,
but changed his mind. With his brow thrust forward, he tramped heavily
out of the house. "Good-by!" he said.

Simmen looked for some time at the door through which the smith had
passed. Only now did he become fu