re tolling here,
they were also tolling on the mountain in Hoechenbrand, the highest
village in the province, for the funeral of Walderjoergli.

For this reason Anton was not present. He had to lead the soldier's
association, which had decided to go in a body and pay the last honors
to the last Master of Justice.

Among the men with long black mantles, who carried Landolin's wife's
coffin, relieving one another from time to time, was one who from the
house to the open grave did not move from his post. It was Tobias. In
the short time since he had been dismissed from the farm he had grown
old fast; and the former crafty expression of his face had disappeared.

As the funeral procession left the church-yard, Cushion-Kate was seen
kneeling on her son's grave. She had no umbrella, which even the
poorest always has. She was kneeling on the ground, letting the rain
pour down upon her red kerchief and her dress, and did not look up.

"I would like to go to her," said Thoma; "I should think she would
accept a kind word from us now in our sorrow; but I am afraid she will
rave and abuse us here by mother's new-made grave."

As Landolin and Thoma went past, Cushion-Kate's glance followed them,
and she clenched her fist. Had she expected the mourners to go to her?

A man struggling with a river's death-bringing waves cries
involuntarily for help, even though he is weary of life. Thus, tossed
on the waves of sorrow and pain, of hate and revenge, the sad, gloomy
soul hearkens for rescue--for a storm dispelling word.

"Why does no one help me?" Landolin had so often thought. Perhaps the
poor bereaved woman there now asks, "Why does no one help me?"

Through his deep, dark grief for his wife's death, his child's love
shone like a star that he had won back. He looked at Thoma, who walked
beside him, and over his sorrow-worn face there flashed, as it were, a
swift gleam of joy. He heard indeed what Thoma had said; but he could
not think of strangers now.

At home, in the yard, in the living-room, in the chamber, it seemed as
though all the lifeless things had been robbed of a nameless something,
and as though they all were waiting for the dead to come back and greet
them with her cheering smile!

Saying nothing, his eyes fastened upon the floor, Landolin was sitting
in his chair, when the pastor soon after presented himself again at the
house of mourning. He spoke words of comfort, but when he had gone
Landolin said, "He goes