I sat down beside him, took the volume, which was nothing worse than a novel by Van der Velde, now forgotten, and ere ten minutes had passed I knew everything I desired to learn. For, as the castle afforded no other entertainment, so thorough a system of watching and listening had been established that the family might as well have discussed their most private affairs before the assembled servants as behind closed doors.
The long and short of the matter was that Cousin Kasimir had sued for the hand of the Canoness; but the latter, on being informed by her uncle of the flattering and advantageous offer, had curtly replied that she felt neither love nor esteem for the suitor, and begged once for all that she might hear no more about him.
A terrible scene had followed, the baron had flown into an inconceivable fury, upbraided her for her poverty, her impiety, her defiance of his kindness and wisdom as her guardian, and who could tell where it might have ended had not the young lady turned away with a contemptuous shrug of the shoulders and left the room.
Now even her pleasant coffee-drinking with Uncle Joachim was spoiled. She had locked herself up in her chamber, and would not see any human being.
I heard all this--part of which I had already conjectured--with secret triumph, bade my informant good-evening, and strolled through the park into the open country.
Never had I been so happy on any day I had spent in the castle. A small quiet flame was burning in my breast, as if it were some pure hearthstone, and must have shone from my eyes. At least all who met me looked at me as if they saw me for the first time, or, rather, were wondering what change had taken place in me. The peasants in that neighborhood are not loquacious, but more than one stopped of his own accord and said something about the crops, the weather, and the need of a good harvest, in which I thought I heard the assurance that they no longer considered me a stranger, but would confidently confess their spiritual wants as well as their external ones.
And the young grain was so beautifully green, the little fleecy clouds in the bright sky drifted along so gayly, the countless nightingales were already beginning their evening songs, scarcely a patch of green was visible in the meadows among the spring flowers, the dogs lay yawning and stretching in front of the little houses, which extended from the village to the fir-wood, and the only person who had been like the Satan of this beautiful spot of earth, Cousin Kasimir, had departed, gnashing his teeth, leaving the good people to enjoy the bright Sunday repose.