“What strange marks are you drawing there?” cried she, as I made these figures on the slate.
“No,” said she; “I know better. It was a charm. Tell truth,--it was a charm.”
“_I_ know,” said she, shaking her head and laughing, with a sort of wicked drollery.
“Yes,” she said with great gravity, while she swept her hand, across the slate and erased all the figures. “Yes _I_ know, and I 'll not permit it.”
“But what, in Heaven's name, is trotting through your head, Catinka? You have not the vaguest idea of what those signs meant.”
“Yes,” she said, even more solemnly than before. “I know it all. You mean to steal away my heart in spite of me, and you are going to do it with a charm.”
“And what success shall I have, Catinka?”
“Oh, do not ask me,” said she, in a tone of touching misery. “I feel it very sore here.” And she pressed her hand to her side. “Ah me,” sighed she, “if there were only pearls!”
The ecstasy her first few words gave me was terribly routed by this vile conclusion, and I started abruptly, and in an angry voice, said, “Let us go on; Vaterchen will fear we are lost.”
“And all this gold; what shall I do with it?” cried she.
“What you will. Throw it into the well if you like,” said I, angrily; for in good sooth I was out of temper with her and myself and all mankind.
“Nay,” said she, mildly, “it is yours; but I will carry it for you if it weary you.”
I might have felt rebuked by the submissive gentleness of her words; indeed, I know not how it was that they did not so move me, and I walked on in front of her, heedless of her entreaties that I should wait till she came up beside me.
When she did join me, she wanted to talk immensely. She had all manner of questions to ask about where my treasure came from; how often I went back there to replenish it; was I quite sure that it could never, never be exhausted, and such-like? But I was in no gracious mood for such inquiries, and, telling her that I wished to follow my own thoughts without interruption, I walked along in silence.
I cannot tell the weight I felt at my heart I am not speaking figuratively. No; it was exactly as though a great mass of heavy metal filled my chest, forced out my ribs, and pressed down my diaphragm; and though I held my hands to my sides with all my force, the pressure still remained.