Heidi (28 page)

"Then we will invite her on the couch with the beautiful green
turf feather-bed," was her grandfather's quiet rejoinder.

While Heidi was pausing to consider what this might be there
approached from above a whistling, calling, and other sounds
which Heidi immediately recognised. She ran out and found
herself surrounded by her four-footed friends. They were
apparently as pleased as she was to be among the heights again,
for they leaped about and bleated for joy, pushing Heidi this way
and that, each anxious to express his delight with some sign of
affection. But Peter sent them flying to right and left, for he
had something to give to Heidi. When he at last got up to her he
handed her a letter.

"There!" he exclaimed, leaving the further explanation of the
matter to Heidi herself.

"Did some one give you this while you were out with the goats,"
she asked, in her surprise.

"No," was the answer.

"Where did you get it from then?

"I found it in the dinner bag."

Which was true to a certain extent. The letter to Heidi had been
given him the evening before by the postman at Dorfli, and Peter
had put it into his empty bag. That morning he had stuffed his
bread and cheese on the top of it, and had forgotten it when he
fetched Alm-Uncle's two goats; only when he had finished his
bread and cheese at mid-day and was searching in the bag for any
last crumbs did he remember the letter which lay at the bottom.

Heidi read the address carefully; then she ran back to the shed
holding out her letter to her grandfather in high glee. "From
Frankfurt! from Clara! Would you like to hear it?"

The grandfather was ready and pleased to do so, as also Peter,
who had followed Heidi into the shed. He leant his back against
the door post, as he felt he could follow Heidi's reading better
if firmly supported from behind, and so stood prepared to
listen.

"Dearest Heidi,— Everything is packed and we shall start now in
two or three days, as soon as papa himself is ready to leave; he
is not coming with us as he has first to go to Paris. The doctor
comes every day, and as soon as he is inside the door, he cries,
'Off now as quickly as you can, off to the mountain.' He is most
impatient about our going. You cannot think how much he enjoyed
himself when he was with you! He has called nearly every day
this winter, and each time he has come in to my room and said he
must tell me about everything again. And then he sits down and
describes all he did with you and the grandfather, and talks of
the mountains and the flowers and of the great silence up there
far above all towns and the villages, and of the fresh delicious
air, and often adds, 'No one can help getting well up there.' He
himself is quite a different man since his visit, and looks
quite young again and happy, which he had not been for a long
time before. Oh, how I am looking forward to seeing everything
and to being with you on the mountain, and to making the
acquaintance of Peter and the goats.

"I shall have first to go through a six weeks' cure at Ragatz;
this the doctor has ordered, and then we shall move up to
Dorfli, and every fine day I shall be carried up the mountain in
my chair and spend the day with you. Grandmamma is travelling
with me and will remain with me; she also is delighted at the
thought of paying you a visit. But just imagine, Fraulein
Rottenmeier refuses to come with us. Almost every day grandmamma
says to her, 'Well, how about this Swiss journey, my worthy
Rottenmeier? Pray say if you really would like to come with us.'
But she always thanks grandmamma very politely and says she has
quite made up her mind. I think I know what has done it:
Sebastian gave such a frightful description of the mountain, of
how the rocks were so overhanging and dangerous that at any
minute you might fall into a crevasse, and how it was such steep
climbing that you feared at every step to go slipping to the
bottom, and that goats alone could make their way up without fear
of being killed. She shuddered when she heard him tell of all
this, and since then she has not been so enthusiastic about
Switzerland as she was before. Fear has also taken possession of
Tinette, and she also refuses to come. So grandmamma and I will
be alone; Sebastian will go with us as far as Ragatz and then
return here.

"I can hardly bear waiting till I see you again. Good-bye,
dearest Heidi; grandmamma sends you her best love and all good
wishes.—Your affectionate friend,
"Clara."

Peter, as soon as the conclusion of the letter had been reached,
left his reclining position and rushed out, twirling his stick
in the air in such a reckless fashion that the frightened goats
fled down the mountain before him with higher and wider leaps
than usual. Peter followed at full speed, his stick still raised
in air in a menacing manner as if he was longing to vent his fury
on some invisible foe. This foe was indeed the prospect of the
arrival of the Frankfurt visitors, the thought of whom filled
him with exasperation.

Heidi was so full of joyful anticipation that she determined to
seize the first possible moment next day to go down and tell
grandmother who was coming, and also particularly who was not
coming. These details would be of great interest to her, for
grandmother knew well all the persons named from Heidi's
description, and had entered with deep sympathy into all that
the child had told her of her life and surroundings in Frankfurt.
Heidi paid her visit in the early afternoon, for she could now go
alone again; the sun was bright in the heavens and the days were
growing longer, and it was delightful to go racing down the
mountain over the dry ground, with the brisk May wind blowing
from behind, and speeding Heidi on her way a little more quickly
than her legs alone would have carried her.

The grandmother was no longer confined to her bed. She was back
in her corner at her spinning-wheel, but there was an expression
on her face of mournful anxiety. Peter had come in the evening
before brimful of anger and had told about the large party who
were coming up from Frankfurt, and he did not know what other
things might happen after that; and the old woman had not slept
all night, pursued by the old thought of Heidi being taken from
her. Heidi ran in, and taking her little stool immediately sat
down by grandmother and began eagerly pouring out all her news,
growing more excited with her pleasure as she went on. But all
of a sudden she stopped short and said anxiously, "What is the
matter, grandmother, aren't you a bit pleased with what I am
telling you?"

"Yes, yes, of course, child, since it gives you so much
pleasure," she answered, trying to look more cheerful.

"But I can see all the same that something troubles you. Is it
because you think after all that Fraulein Rottenmeier may come?"
asked Heidi, beginning to feel anxious herself.

"No, no! it is nothing, child," said the grandmother, wishing to
reassure her. "Just give me your hand that I may feel sure you
are there. No doubt it would be the best thing for you, although
I feel I could scarcely survive it."

"I do not want anything of the best if you could scarcely
survive it," said Heidi, in such a determined tone of voice that
the grandmother's fears increased as she felt sure the people
from Frankfurt were coming to take Heidi back with them, since
now she was well again they naturally wished to have her with
them once more. But she was anxious to hide her trouble from
Heidi if possible, as the latter was so sympathetic that she
might refuse perhaps to go away, and that would not be right. She
sought for help, but not for long, for she knew of only one.

"Heidi," she said, "there is something that would comfort me and
calm my thoughts; read me the hymn beginning: 'All things will
work for good.'"

Heidi found the place at once and read out in her clear young
voice:—

All things will work for good
To those who trust in Me;
I come with healing on my wings,
To save and set thee free.

"Yes, yes, that is just what I wanted to hear," said the
grandmother, and the deep expression of trouble passed from her
face. Heidi looked at her thoughtfully for a minute or two and
then said, "Healing means that which cures everything and makes
everybody well, doesn't it, grandmother?"

"Yes, that is it," replied the old woman with a nod of assent,
"and we may be sure everything will come to pass according to
God's good purpose. Read the verse again, that we may remember
it well and not forget it again."

And Heidi read the words over two or three times, for she also
found pleasure in this assurance of all things being arranged
for the best.

When the evening came, Heidi returned home up the mountain. The
stars came out overhead one by one, so bright and sparkling that
each seemed to send a fresh ray of joy into her heart; she was
obliged to pause continually to look up, and as the whole sky at
last grew spangled with them she spoke aloud, "Yes, I understand
now why we feel so happy, and are not afraid about anything,
because God knows what is good and beautiful for us." And the
stars with their glistening eyes continued to nod to her till
she reached home, where she found her grandfather also standing
and looking up at them, for they had seldom been more glorious
than they were this night.

Not only were the nights of this month of May so clear and
bright, but the days as well; the sun rose every morning into
the cloudless sky, as undimmed in its splendor as when it sank
the evening before, and the grandfather would look out early and
exclaim with astonishment, "This is indeed a wonderful year of
sun; it will make all the shrubs and plants grow apace; you will
have to see, general, that your army does not get out of hand
from overfeeding." And Peter would swing his stick with an air
of assurance and an expression on his face as much as to say,
"see to that."

So May passed, everything growing greener and greener, and then
came the month of June, with a hotter sun and long light days,
that brought the flowers out all over the mountain, so that
every spot was bright with them and the air full of their sweet
scents. This month too was drawing to its close when one day
Heidi, having finished her domestic duties, ran out with the
intention of paying first a visit to the fir trees, and then
going up higher to see if the bush of rock roses was yet in
bloom, for its flowers were so lovely when standing open in the
sun. But just as she was turning the corner of the hut, she gave
such a loud cry that her grandfather came running out of the shed
to see what had happened.

"Grandfather, grandfather!" she cried, beside herself with
excitement. "Come here! look! look!"

The old man was by her side by this time and looked in the
direction of her outstretched hand.

A strange looking procession was making its way up the mountain;
in front were two men carrying a sedan chair, in which sat a
girl well wrapped up in shawls; then followed a horse, mounted by
a stately-looking lady who was looking about her with great
interest and talking to the guide who walked beside her; then a
reclining chair, which was being pushed up by another man, it
having evidently been thought safer to send the invalid to whom
it belonged up the steep path in a sedan chair. The procession
wound up with a porter, with such a bundle of cloaks, shawls,
and furs on his back that it rose well above his head.

"Here they come! here they come!" shouted Heidi, jumping with
joy. And sure enough it was the party from Frankfurt; the
figures came nearer and nearer, and at last they had actually
arrived. The men in front put down their burden, Heidi rushed
forward and the two children embraced each other with mutual
delight. Grandmamma having also reached the top, dismounted, and
gave Heidi an affectionate greeting, before turning to the
grandfather, who had meanwhile come up to welcome his guests.
There was no constraint about the meeting, for they both knew
each other perfectly well from hearsay and felt like old
acquaintances.

After the first words of greeting had been exchanged grandmamma
broke out into lively expressions of admiration. "What a
magnificent residence you have, Uncle! I could hardly have
believed it was so beautiful! A king might well envy you! And
how well my little Heidi looks—like a wild rose!" she continued,
drawing the child towards her and stroking her fresh pink
cheeks. "I don't know which way to look first, it is all so
lovely! What do you say to it, Clara, what do you say?"

Clara was gazing round entranced; she had never imagined, much
less seen, anything so beautiful. She gave vent to her delight
in cries of joy. "O grandmamma," she said, "I should like to
remain here for ever."

The grandfather had meanwhile drawn up the invalid chair and
spread some of the wraps over it; he now went up to Clara.

"Supposing we carry the little daughter now to her accustomed
chair; I think she will be more comfortable, the travelling
sedan is rather hard," he said, and without waiting for any one
to help him he lifted the child in his strong arms and laid her
gently down on her own couch. He then covered her over carefully
and arranged her feet on the soft cushion, as if he had never
done anything all his life but attend on cripples. The grandmamma
looked on with surprise.

"My dear Uncle," she exclaimed, "if I knew where you had learned
to nurse I would at once send all the nurses I know to the same
place that they might handle their patients in like manner. How
do you come to know so much?"

Uncle smiled. "I know more from experience than training," he
answered, but as he spoke the smile died away and a look of
sadness passed over his face. The vision rose before him of a
face of suffering that he had known long years before, the face
of a man lying crippled on his couch of pain, and unable to move
a limb. The man had been his Captain during the fierce fighting
in Sicily; he had found him lying wounded and had carried him
away, and after that the captain would suffer no one else near
him, and Uncle had stayed and nursed him till his sufferings
ended in death. It all came back to Uncle now, and it seemed
natural to him to attend on the sick Clara and to show her all
those kindly attentions with which he had been once so familiar.