Efix spread his arms and bent his head back a little as if to say: Well, why are you asking me for advice then?
But Esther gave a sharp laugh, got up and angrily turned back the black corners of her handkerchief. “Then who should he go to? Perhaps to the pastor, like the strangers who cannot find shelter? "
"I would rather not answer him at all," suggested Miss Ruth, and took the telegram from Noemi's hand, which she was restlessly unfolding and folding over and over again . “If he comes anyway, that's fine. Then we can take him in like any stranger. Come in , bring good luck! ”She added, as if to greet a guest entering the door. "And when he's not doing well, it's still time to say a word."
But Esther smiled at her sister, who was the shyest and most indecisive of the three, leaned over to her and put her hand on her knees: “To chase him away, do you mean? Excellent, dear sister! And will you have the heart for it, Ruth? "
Efix thought about it. Suddenly he raised his head and put a pleading hand on his chest.
"I'll take care of that," he promised solemnly.
Then his eyes met Noemi's, and he, who was always afraid of these bright, cold, deep eyes, understood that the young mistress was taking his promise seriously.
But he didn't regret it. He had already taken on completely different responsibilities in his life.
He stayed in the village all day.
It is true that he was restless about the estate - although there was little to stand there at this time of year - but it seemed to him that a secret conflict was troubling his mistresses, and he did not intend to leave until he saw them unanimously.
Miss Esther tidied up the kitchen and then left to go to the basilica. Efix promised to comply soon; but when Fraulein Noemi went upstairs, he went back into the kitchen and quietly asked Fraulein Ruth, who was kneeling on the floor and kneading some dough on a low stool, for the telegram. She raised her head and pushed the cloth from her forehead with her flour-dusted fist.
"Did you hear?" She alluded to Noemi. “She always stays the same! They are dominated by pride ... "
"Right," affirmed Efix pensively. “Who noblesWhat is in blood, it will remain so, Miss Ruth. They find an old coin on the floor, at first they think it is made of iron because it has turned black; but then rub it bare and you will see that it is made of pure gold ... Gold remains gold ... "
Ruth realized that she did not need to excuse Noemi's reprehensible pride in front of Efix, and since she always readily agreed to the opinions of the others, her face brightened up again.
"Do you remember how proud my father was?" She said, and thrust her red, blue-veined hands back into the pale dough. “He spoke just like that. Surely he wouldn't even have allowed Giacinto to go ashore. What do you mean, Efix? "
"I? Well, I'm just a poor servant, but I think Don Giacinto would have gone ashore anyway. "
"You mean he's his mother's son," sighed Ruth, and the servant sighed softly too. Over and over again the shadow of the past enveloped her.
But the old man made a defensive gesture, as if to scare away this shadow, and while he watched with attentive eyes the movements of the red hands that were kneading, kneading and beating the white dough, he continued calmly:
“He's a good boy, and Heaven will help him. But you have to make sure that he doesn't get malaria. You should also buy a horse for him because the people there - on the mainlandare not used to walking. But let that be my concern. The most important thing is that the mistresses agree among themselves. "
“And aren't we? Did you hear us arguing? Wouldn't you prefer to go to mass now, Efix? "
Then he realized that she was saying goodbye to him and went into the courtyard. But he looked around to see if he could speak to Fraulein Noemi right away. Ah - there she's standing on the porch, pulling the covers in. Asking her down is probably pointless; no, he has to go up to her himself.
“Fraulein Noemi, may I ask you something? Are you really happy? "
Amazed, with the blanket under his arm, Noemi looked at him.
"About what?"
“Well, that Don Giacinto is coming. You'll see he's a good boy. "
"So? Where did you meet him? "
“You can tell from his letters. He'll definitely make a difference . You have to buy him a horse ... "
"And the spurs too, of course ..."
“The main thing is that the mistresses agree among themselves. Yes, that's the most important thing. "
She plucked a fiber from the ceiling and threw it into the courtyard; her face had darkened.
“When did we not agree? I think so far always. "
"Yes - but - it seems to me that you are not looking forward to Don Giacinto's arrival."
“Should I sing a song of joy? He's not a Messiah, ”she said, and disappeared into the door, through which one looked into a bright room with an old bed, an old clothes locker and a windowless window that looked out onto the green hillside.
Efix went down the stairs, plucked a little reddish gold lacquer blossom, held it between his hands folded behind his back, and went to the basilica.
The stillness and coolness of the towering mountain lay over all things. Only the chirping of thrushes in the blackberry bushes animated the area and mixed with the monotonous prayers of the women in the church. Efix came in on tiptoe, gold lacquer blossom in hand, and knelt behind the pulpit.
The basilica fell into disrepair from year to year; everything there was gray with damp and mold. Through the cracks in the wooden roof, the inclined rays of the sun shimmered silvery over the heads of the kneeling women, and the figures of saints, which stood out brownish against the black, cracked background of the pictures still adorning the walls, looked like these black and blue clad female figures, all of whom were pale yellowish faces had a sunken chest and a heavy body that was swollen from malaria. Her prayer, too, had a heavy, monotonous sound, as if from a great distance, as if from someone long lostSeemed to tremble over time . Now the priest in the black, white decorated choir robe turned slowly with his hands raised; a bundle of rays played around his pale head like that of a prophet. And if the little sacristan hadn't waved the silver, light-toned bell in the air now and then, as if to banish the ghost all around, Efix would have believed, despite the dazzling flood of light, despite the twittering of the birds, that he was attending a ghost mass. They are all still there, just as they were before: Don Zame, kneeling in his prayer chair, and a little to one side Fraulein Lia, who looks so pale in her black cloth, almost like the figure in the old painting over there, to which women occasionally to look up. It is the picture of the penitent Magdalena, which is supposed to be painted according to reality. Love and sadness, hope and repentance laugh and cry from their unfathomable eyes, play for their wicked mouth.
Suddenly the singing of the women stopped and some of them prepared to leave. Efix, who had leaned his head against the pillar of the pulpit the whole time, was startled from his dreams and followed Miss Esther, who was going home, outside.
The sun, which was already high in the sky, glowed down on the village, which lay more deserted than ever in the blinding light of the hot midday. The women pouring out of the church disappeared here and there, as silently as ghosts, and again deep solitude and silence enveloped the house of the Pintor ladies. Fraulein Esther went to the fountain to protect a little carnation plant with a small board from the sunThen hurried up the stairs and shut the doors and windows. The porch floor creaked under their steps, and gray dust trickled down like ash from the wall and rotten wood.
Efix waited for her to come back down. Sitting on the steps in the sun, his cap pulled low over his forehead to shade his face a little, he carved a stake with his penknife that Miss Ruth wanted to put up in front of the entrance. But the blade, flashing in the sunlight, blinded his eyes, and the faded gold lacquer blossom trembled on his knees. He felt his thoughts circling confusedly and thought