There were people living in the house, about whom Rico knew nothing.
Everywhere that he went with Sami, from the old well-known houses and
stables the people stared at him as if he were an utter stranger; not
one of them recognized him in the least.

As he crossed over, towards evening, to Sils, he turned aside a little
towards the churchyard. He wanted to see the grave where the old
grandmother was buried; but Sami did not rightly know where she lay.

They returned home just as it was growing dark, laden with basket and
portmanteau. Stineli stood at the well, and brushed out the stable
buckets for the last time; and as Rico stood there by her side, she
said, flushed with pleasure, and with her exertions over the pails, "I
can scarcely believe that it is true, Rico."

"But I do," said he so decidedly, that the girl looked at him surprised.
"But of course, Stineli," he added, "you have not been thinking it out
this long time as I have."

There was a change in Rico that the girl noticed at once. Formerly he
would not have spoken in this firm and decided manner.

They had arranged a bed for Rico up in the room under the roof.
He carried his things up there, and meant to open them the
following morning.

When they were all seated the next day at table,--a beautiful, clear
Sunday morning,--down came Rico, and poured out before Urschli and
Peterli a big heap of plums and figs. The latter fruit they had never
seen at all; and the plums were finer than any that they were accustomed