til
then that she perceived how kindly and faithfully he had helped her,
and, with a bright voice, she said: "Yes, so I can; you've helped me,
and now I feel that I can walk."

Hansei had the meal brought in and, after placing his mountain staff,
his hunting-bag and his hat in readiness, he sat down to eat. Walpurga
was also obliged to sit down, although she ate but little. One of
Hansei's great virtues was that he could eat heartily at any time. He
did full justice to the meal, and his manner seemed to say that when
one has satisfied his hunger, he is better prepared for any
undertaking.

Before leaving, he cut off a large piece of bread and put it in his
pocket.

The children were consigned to the care of the upper servant, and one
of the laboring women was also charged to remain in the house. Hansei
and his wife started for the meadow.

They had already gone some distance, when Burgei came running after
them, crying: "I want to go along; I want to go to Cousin Irmgard."

There was no help for it. They were obliged to take the child with
them, for they were afraid to let her go back alone and neither of them
cared to take her back.

"You're a naughty child, a very naughty child! And now I've got to
carry you, a big girl like you," said Walpurga, taking the child in her
arms. Hansei nodded, with a pleased air. It was well the child was with
them, for then his wife, who was apt to go off into extremes, would not
become so violent if the worst should happen.

Walpurga, who had at first thought that she could not walk alone, now
carried the child and stepped out bravely.

"Let Burgei walk for a while, and when she gets tired again. I'll carry
her," said Hansei.

As long as the path was wide enough, the child walked between its
parents, and when it grew narrower, they let her run on ahead. When
they found that they could get on but slowly, on account of the child,
Hansei took her up in his arms, where she soon fell asleep.

Walpurga then softly whispered to Hansei:

"I must tell you now who our Irmgard is."

"And I tell you I don't want to know. She must tell me herself, if she
lives; and if she's dead, you can tell me then, just as well."

"Dead!" cried Walpurga, "Do you know more than I do? Did Franz tell you
anything in secret?"

"Franz told me nothing but what you've heard."

"But why do you talk about death in that way?"

"Because one who's very sick can easily die. But do be calm."

"Yes, yes;