“Exactly what I thought myself”, said Loyka. “You speak like a true doctor, and if I should listen to you yet a while, I know not whether good might not come of it.”
“And we will manage it thus. To-morrow I lead you into a neighbouring village to the house where Frank is living. There are the fiddlers and the harpers, and we can fling up our heels in a hornpipe.”
Even this idea was one which seemed to have been borrowed from Loyka’s own mind, and Bartos did indeed borrow it from Loyka; because, as we know, a moment before Loyka had expressed his desire to have a dance before this unseen witness.
“The further I listen to thee, the more convinced I am that thou art a mighty sage”, said Loyka with evident satisfaction. And it was plain that the grave-digger had struck exactly the right chord.
“But inasmuch as we shall have a debauch there, we must rest ourselves before we set out on our journey. We must sleep, for we have not slept at all for several nights”, continued the gravedigger.
“Thou mightest stand and preach in the pulpit, good man”, said Loyka, highly delighted at what the grave-digger had said.
By this vague discourse the grave-digger had in reality probed Loyka to the quick. And Loyka hearing that repeated from another’s mouth which a moment before he had been the only one to long for, and thus having the object of his own wishes freshly paraded before his mind, felt relieved. His words and expression were deprived of that sickeningly painful cast which a short time before had driven Frank to weeping and Staza to song.
The two children now nestled close together, and looked on like birdies from a nest at what was passing before them. They did not understand, but it had not any longer so much horror for them.
“If thou thinkest that we ought to sleep,” said Loyka, as though he were still replying to the recommendation of the grave-digger, “it will be best to lay us down and sleep”, and hereupon he immediately made as though he would lie down.
“When you were married, pantata, I was at your wedding”, said the grave-digger. “And when the deceased, your father, quitted you for the pension house, he said, ‘If at any time you are too much harassed to sleep at home, come to me, you will sleep beside your father.’ And to-day, you have come to him, pantata, and will sheep soundly.”
