wept. She was no longer there, and would come back to him no more. But
all the good words she had spoken to him here that evening rose vividly
in his heart, and it seemed as if he distinctly heard her talking again,
and as if she must really be quite near and see him.

Sami straightened himself up again, sat a while longer listening, and
then began to think what he should do. At first he wanted to go to Malon
and ask him if he could work for him, perhaps get out the weeds in his
vineyard. But he could not explain to him why he was there again; they
would not understand each other and Malon might think he had done
something wrong and had been sent away for it by his cousin. But perhaps
the woman who always gave mending to his grandmother would set him to
work in her garden. She lived down below, near the Lake. He jumped down
from the wall. Once more he looked at the hillside, and up into the tree,
but he could come here again; he was here and could stay here.

On the way he thought how he could explain to the woman what he wanted to
do for her. He would bend down and show her how he could pull up the
weeds; then he would show her by a gesture that he knew how to hoe.

There stood already the old castle of La Tour before him, with its two
high, weather-beaten towers, which he had looked at so many times. All
around and high up thick ivy covered the old walls, and above them
multitudes of merry birds were chirping. Sami had to stop and listen to
their happy singing for a while, then he went along by the high old wall
around the courtyard, for he wanted to see if it was still the same as
before down below in the lonely place where the water kept falling on the
old stones and singing a gentle song. He had once stood there a long time
with his grandmother. There lay the place before him, but it was not
lonely. A big wagon was standing there, with a grey cover stretched over