Frank wrote that he had heard that Hawermann was going to leave Pümpelhagen, that he was now free, and must consent to his sincere desire to write to Louisa at once. The enclosed letter was to be given to her, and Frank hoped that it would lead to three people being happier than before.
The bailiff's hands trembled as he put his daughter's letter into his pocket-book, and his knees knocked together as he thought of the future happiness or unhappiness of his only child being thus in his hands. He seated himself on the sofa, and considered what he ought to do. In the morning the sea sometimes rises in wild billows, at noon it is calmer, but still gloomy and uncertain looking, but in the evening the blue sky is reflected in the smooth mirror of the water, and the setting sun encloses the picture in a golden frame.
Something of this sort was going on in the old man's spirit. At first his thoughts were tumultuous and confused, then he grew calmer, and was able to think whether he should be failing in his duty to Mr. von Rambow if he consented to do as Frank wished him. But what duty did he owe to the man who had returned him evil for good, and who was even now driving him away by his conduct? None. And he raised his head proudly, feeling that his conscience could not reproach him for his actions or thoughts, and then he determined that he would not sacrifice his best and dearest for the sake of a foolish boy, that he could not make his child suffer because of unjust social prejudices. Then he pleased himself by thinking of the happy future before Frank and Louisa, and lost himself in a delicious day-dream.
While he was thus engaged the door opened, and Christian Degel rushed into the room, exclaiming: "Oh, sir, you must come at once, the Rubens-mare has been taken very ill, and we don't know what to do." The bailiff rose and hastened to the stable.
Scarcely was he gone than Fred Triddelfitz came in carrying a portmanteau, club-books, shirts, and clothes of all kinds. He laid the portmanteau on a chair by the window, and began to pack up his things that he might be able to cut a figure in Demmin, when he caught sight of Hawermann's farm-book; for the old man had forgotten in his excitement to shut his desk.--"That'll, do for me," said Fred, and seating himself in the window as it was beginning to grow dark, he set to work to enter the corn-account.