Heidi (18 page)

"As if you had eaten something that would not go down."

"No, not like that; something heavy as if I wanted to cry very
much."

"I see, and then do you have a good cry?"

"Oh, no, I mustn't; Fraulein Rottenmeier forbade me to cry."

"So you swallow it all down, I suppose? Are you happy here in
Frankfurt?"

"Yes," was the low answer; but it sounded more like "No."

"And where did you live with your grandfather?"

"Up on the mountain."

"That wasn't very amusing; rather dull at times, eh?"

"No, no, it was beautiful, beautiful!" Heidi could go no
further; the remembrance of the past, the excitement she had just
gone through, the long suppressed weeping, were too much for the
child's strength; the tears began to fall fast, and she broke
into violent weeping.

The doctor stood up and laid her head kindly down on the pillow.
"There, there, go on crying, it will do you good, and then go to
sleep; it will be all right to-morrow."

Then he left the room and went downstairs to Herr Sesemann; when
he was once more sitting in the armchair opposite his friend,
"Sesemann," he said, "let me first tell you that your little
charge is a sleep-walker; she is the ghost who has nightly
opened the front door and put your household into this fever of
alarm. Secondly, the child is consumed with homesickness, to such
an extent that she is nearly a skeleton already, and soon will be
quite one; something must be done at once. For the first
trouble, due to her over-excited nerves, there is but one remedy,
to send her back to her native mountain air; and for the second
trouble there is also but one cure, and that the same. So to-
morrow the child must start for home; there you have my
prescription."

Herr Sesemann had arisen and now paced up and down the room in
the greatest state of concern.

"What!" he exclaimed, "the child a sleep-walker and ill! Home-
sick, and grown emaciated in my house! All this has taken place
in my house and no one seen or known anything about it! And you
mean, doctor, that the child who came here happy and healthy, I
am to send back to her grandfather a miserable little skeleton? I
can't do it; you cannot dream of my doing such a thing! Take the
child in hand, do with her what you will, and make her whole and
sound, and then she shall go home; but you must do something
first."

"Sesemann," replied the doctor, "consider what you are doing!
This illness of the child's is not one to be cured with pills
and powders. The child has not a tough constitution, but if you
send her back at once she may recover in the mountain air,
if not—you would rather she went back ill than not at all?"

Herr Sesemann stood still; the doctor's words were a shock to
him.

"If you put it so, doctor, there is assuredly only one way—and
the thing must be seen to at once." And then he and the doctor
walked up and down for a while arranging what to do, after which
the doctor said good-bye, for some time had passed since they
first sat down together, and as the master himself opened the
hall door this time the morning light shone down through it into
the house.

Herr Sesemann, a good deal irritated and excited, went quickly
upstairs and along the passage to Fraulein Rottenmeier's room,
and there gave such an unusually loud knock at the door that the
lady awoke from sleep with a cry of alarm. She heard the master
of the house calling to her from the other side of the door,
"Please make haste and come down to me in the dining-room; we
must make ready for a journey at once." Fraulein Rottenmeier
looked at her clock: it was just half-past four; she had never
got up so early before in her life. What could have happened?
What with her curiosity and excitement she took hold of
everything the wrong way, and it was a case with her of more
haste less speed, for she kept on searching everywhere for
garments which she had already put on.

Meanwhile Herr Sesemann had gone on farther and rung the bells
in turn which communicated with the several servants' rooms,
causing frightened figures to leap out of bed, convinced that the
ghost had attacked the master and that he was calling for help.
One by one they made their appearance in the dining-room, each
with a more terrified face than the last, and were astonished to
see their master walking up and down, looking well and cheerful,
and with no appearance of having had an encounter with a ghost.
John was sent off without delay to get the horses and carriage
ready; Tinette was ordered to wake Heidi and get her dressed for
a journey; Sebastian was hurried off to the house where Dete was
in service to bring the latter round. Then Fraulein Rottenmeier,
having at last accomplished her toilet, came down, with
everything well adjusted about her except her cap, which was put
on hind side before. Herr Sesemann put down her flurried
appearance to the early awakening he had caused her, and began
without delay to give her directions. She was to get out a trunk
at once and pack up all the things belonging to the Swiss child—
for so he usually spoke of Heidi, being unaccustomed to her name—
and a good part of Clara's clothes as well, so that the child
might take home proper apparel; but everything was to be done
immediately, as there was no time for consideration.

Fraulein Rottenmeier stood as if rooted to the spot and stared
in astonishment at Herr Sesemann. She had quite expected a long
and private account of some terrible ghostly experience of his
during the night, which she would have enjoyed hearing about in
the broad daylight. Instead of this there were these prosaic and
troublesome directions, which were so unexpected that she took
some time to get over her surprise and disappointment, and
continued standing awaiting further explanation.

But Herr Sesemann had no thought or time for explanations and
left her standing there while he went to speak to Clara. As he
anticipated, the unusual commotion in the house had disturbed
her, and she was lying and listening and wondering what had
happened. So he sat down and told her everything that had
occurred during the past night, and explained that the doctor
had given his verdict and pronounced Heidi to be in a very highly
strung state, so that her nightly wanderings might gradually
lead her farther and farther, perhaps even on to the roof, which
of course would be very dangerous for her. And so they had
decided to send her home at once, as he did not like to take the
responsibility of her remaining, and Clara would see for herself
that it was the only thing to do. Clara was very much
distressed, and at first made all kinds of suggestions for
keeping Heidi with her; but her father was firm, and promised
her, if she would be reasonable and make no further fuss, that he
would take her to Switzerland next summer. So Clara gave in to
the inevitable, only stipulating that the box might be brought
into her room to be packed, so that she might add whatever she
liked, and her father was only too pleased to let her provide a
nice outfit for the child. Meanwhile Dete had arrived and was
waiting in the hall, wondering what extraordinary event had come
to pass for her to be sent for at such an unusual hour. Herr
Sesemann informed her of the state Heidi was in, and that he
wished her that very day to take her home. Dete was greatly
disappointed, for she had not expected such a piece of news. She
remembered Uncle's last words, that he never wished to set eyes
on her again, and it seemed to her that to take back the child to
him, after having left it with him once and then taken it away
again, was not a safe or wise thing for her to do. So she excused
herself to Herr Sesemann with her usual flow of words; to-day and
to-morrow it would be quite impossible for her to take the
journey, and there was so much to do that she doubted if she
could get off on any of the following days. Herr Sesemann
understood that she was unwilling to go at all, and so dismissed
her. Then he sent for Sebastian and told him to make ready to
start: he was to travel with the child as far as Basle that day,
and the next day take her home. He would give him a letter to
carry to the grandfather, which would explain everything, and he
himself could come back by return.

"But there is one thing in particular which I wish you to look
after," said Herr Sesemann in conclusion, "and be sure you
attend to what I say. I know the people of this hotel in Basle,
the name of which I give you on this card. They will see to
providing rooms for the child and you. When there, go at once
into the child's room and see that the windows are all firmly
fastened so that they cannot be easily opened. After the child is
in bed, lock the door of her room on the outside, for the child
walks in her sleep and might run into danger in a strange house
if she went wandering downstairs and tried to open the front
door; so you understand?"

"Oh! then that was it?" exclaimed Sebastian, for now a light was
thrown on the ghostly visitations.

"Yes, that was it! and you are a coward, and you may tell John
he is the same, and the whole household a pack of idiots." And
with this Herr Sesemann went off to his study to write a letter
to Alm-Uncle. Sebastian remained standing, feeling rather
foolish.

"If only I had not let that fool of a John drag me back into the
room, and had gone after the little white figure, which I should
do certainly if I saw it now!" he kept on saying to himself; but
just now every corner of the room was clearly visible in the
daylight.

Meanwhile Heidi was standing expectantly dressed in her Sunday
frock waiting to see what would happen next, for Tinette had
only woke her up with a shake and put on her clothes without a
word of explanation. The little uneducated child was far too much
beneath her for Tinette to speak to.

Herr Sesemann went back to the dining-room with the letter;
breakfast was now ready, and he asked, "Where is the child?"

Heidi was fetched, and as she walked up to him to say "Good-
morning," he looked inquiringly into her face and said, "Well,
what do you say to this, little one?"

Heidi looked at him in perplexity.

"Why, you don't know anything about it, I see," laughed Herr
Sesemann. "You are going home today, going at once."

"Home," murmured Heidi in a low voice, turning pale; she was so
overcome that for a moment or two she could hardly breathe.

"Don't you want to hear more about it?"

"Oh, yes, yes!" exclaimed Heidi, her face now rosy with delight.

"All right, then," said Herr Sesemann as he sat down and made
her a sign to do the same, "but now make a good breakfast, and
then off you go in the carriage."

But Heidi could not swallow a morsel though she tried to do what
she was told; she was in such a state of excitement that she
hardly knew if she was awake or dreaming, or if she would again
open her eyes to find herself in her nightgown at the front
door.

"Tell Sebastian to take plenty of provisions with him," Herr
Sesemann called out to Fraulein Rottenmeier, who just then came
into the room; "the child can't eat anything now, which is quite
natural. Now run up to Clara and stay with her till the carriage
comes round," he added kindly, turning to Heidi.

Heidi had been longing for this, and ran quickly upstairs. An
immense trunk was standing open in the middle of the room.

"Come along, Heidi," cried Clara, as she entered; "see all the
things I have had put in for you—aren't you pleased?"

And she ran over a list of things, dresses and aprons and
handkerchiefs, and all kinds of working materials. "And look
here," she added, as she triumphantly held up a basket. Heidi
peeped in and jumped for joy, for inside it were twelve
beautiful round white rolls, all for grandmother. In their
delight the children forgot that the time had come for them to
separate, and when some one called out, "The carriage is here,"
there was no time for grieving.

Heidi ran to her room to fetch her darling book; she knew no one
could have packed that, as it lay under her pillow, for Heidi
had kept it by her night and day. This was put in the basket with
the rolls. Then she opened her wardrobe to look for another
treasure, which perhaps no one would have thought of packing—and
she was right—the old red shawl had been left behind, Fraulein
Rottenmeier not considering it worth putting in with the other
things. Heidi wrapped it round something else which she laid on
the top of the basket, so that the red package was quite
conspicuous. Then she put on her pretty hat and left the room.
The children could not spend much time over their farewells, for
Herr Sesemann was waiting to put Heidi in the carriage. Fraulein
Rottenmeier was waiting at the top of the stairs to say good-bye
to her. When she caught sight of the strange little red bundle,
she took it out of the basket and threw it on the ground. "No,
no, Adelaide," she exclaimed, "you cannot leave the house with
that thing. What can you possibly want with it!" And then she
said good-bye to the child. Heidi did not dare take up her
little bundle, but she gave the master of the house an imploring
look, as if her greatest treasure had been taken from her.

"No, no," said Herr Sesemann in a very decided voice, "the child
shall take home with her whatever she likes, kittens and
tortoises, if it pleases her; we need not put ourselves out
about that, Fraulein Rottenmeier."

Heidi quickly picked up her bundle, with a look of joy and
gratitude. As she stood by the carriage door, Herr Sesemann gave
her his hand and said he hoped she would remember him and Clara.
He wished her a happy journey, and Heidi thanked him for all his
kindness, and added, "And please say good-bye to the doctor for
me and give him many, many thanks." For she had not forgotten
that he had said to her the night before, 'It will be all right
to-morrow,' and she rightly divined that he had helped to make
it so for her. Heidi was now lifted into the carriage, and then
the basket and the provisions were put in, and finally Sebastian
took his place. Then Herr Sesemann called out once more, "A
pleasant journey to you," and the carriage rolled away.