proceedings for many years, and people never ceased telling her that
she was foolish to be thus continually thinking of the return of her
John.

This autumn it would be eighteen years since John had gone away, and
every year John Michael Winkler was reported in the paper as missing,
which would be done until his fiftieth year--he was now in his
thirty-sixth. The story circulated in the village that John had gone
among the gipsies. Once, indeed, his mother had mistaken a young gipsy
for him; he was a man who bore a striking resemblance to her missing
son, in that he was small of stature and had the same dark complexion;
and he had seemed rather pleased at being taken for John. But the mother
had put him to the proof, for she still had John's hymn-book and his
confirmation verse; and, inasmuch as the stranger did not know this
verse and could not tell who were his sponsors, or what had happened to
him on the day when Brosi's Severin arrived with his English wife, and
later on when the new well was dug at the town-hall--inasmuch as he did
not satisfy these and other proofs, he could not be the right man. And
yet Marianne used to give the gipsy a lodging whenever he came to the
village, and the children in the streets used to cry "John!" after him.

John was advertised as being liable to military duty and as a deserter;
and although his mother declared that he would have slipped through
under the measuring-stick as "too short," she knew that he would not
escape punishment if he returned, and inferred that this was the reason
why he did not return. And it was very strange to hear her praying,
almost in the same breath, for the welfare of her son and the death of
the reigning prince; for she had been told that when the sovereign died,
his successor would proclaim a general amnesty for all past offenses.