" * * *
When they were ready and opened the kitchen door, Freneli had to make
three attempts before she could get out, and Uli had to look for his hat
on the other side of the kitchen. Her aunt began to wail and to implore
them in God's name not to go; they would be killed! But Freneli summoned
all her strength for a third attempt, and vanished in the snow-flurry; her
aunt's lamentations died away unheard. It was really almost a break-neck
undertaking, and Uli had to help the girl. With the wind directly in their
faces, they often lost the road, had to stand still at times and look
about them to see where they were and gather breath, or turn around to
let the strongest gusts go by; it took them three-quarters of an hour to
go the scant fifteen minutes' walk to the parsonage. There they first
shook off the snow as well as they could, then knocked on the door. But
they knocked long in vain; the sound was swallowed up in the howling of
the wind, which raged awesomely through the chimneys. Then Freneli lost
patience; in place of Uli's reverent knock she now tried her own, and it
was such that the indwellers started up from their seats and the
pastor's wife cried, "Mercy on us, what's that?" But the pastor calmed
her by saying that it was either a baptism or a wedding, only that, as
usual, Mary had not heard their first knocks. While Mary answered the
door he was lighting a light, so that the people need not wait long, and
as soon as Mary opened the door to say, "There's two people here, Sir,"
he was already stepping out.
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