aid she.

He took her hand in his, and as Cain came forward just then, he took
the boy's right hand too, and laid it beside Vincenza's. The two hands
had plenty of room in one of his. The smith laughed to see them there.
But it was such a strange, uncanny laugh, that it entirely changed the
expression of his face. It was neither merry nor scornful. Perhaps all
the kindliness that Stephen Fausch had to give lay in that one laugh.
His solitary eye looked larger and more quiet than usual. And as his
gaze rested thus on them both at once, they felt as if he were trying
to say: "So--you--you belong together, you two!" And then, with his
free hand he stroked their two hands a moment, and that was perhaps,
together with the laugh, the first outward sign of love that Stephen
Fausch had shown to anybody, since Maria's death. It was a poor,
thirsty, dried-up love, and far from tender; but as his hand touched
Cain's, something happened that no one saw; the smith's thick lips
trembled for a brief moment, in the midst of his black, woolly beard.
It seemed improbable and yet--perhaps Fausch had stifled a sigh. Then
he looked away from the two young people, and as he turned about, his
eye wandered once more slowly, and as if reluctant to lose the sight,
over the Alpine meadows, to the hospice, and over the dark and rugged
mountains and over the dazzling heavens above.

"Well, good-by!" said Fausch to Cain and the girl, letting their hands
go. And he walked heavily away, with head bowed down, showing in his
bearing the old churlishness. He did not look back again.

Cain and Vincenza looked after him for a long time. They could see him
plainly. If he sometimes disappeared around a bend of the road, he
would reappear far below, and they would soon see him again, walking
behind the wagon, dark and heavy and big.

Cain was very still. He had taken off his hat and held it in both
hands. He did not really know why he did so. He looked after his father
in amazement, and it was on his account that he had involuntarily taken
off his hat.

Vincenza now turned to him. She was breathing fast, as if she were only
now beginning to recover from her quick run. "Do you know why I ran
after you, Franz?" she asked. Her eyes were shining.

Cain shook his head.

"It came over me suddenly that your father might take you with him."

The fear that had driven her to follow him, still showed in her words
and in her eyes. Cain laid his hand thankfully o