Books: Heidi

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"And how is the ghost getting on?" he asked, turning to Fraulein
Rottenmeier, with a twinkle of amusement in his eye.

"It is no joke, I assure you," replied that lady. "You will not
laugh yourself to-morrow morning, Herr Sesemann; what is going
on in the house points to some terrible thing that has taken
place in the past and been concealed."

"Well, I know nothing about that," said the master of the house,
"but I must beg you not to bring suspicion on my worthy
ancestors. And now will you kindly call Sebastian into the dining-
room, as I wish to speak to him alone."

Herr Sesemann had been quite aware that Sebastian and Fraulein
Rottenmeier were not on the best of terms, and he had his ideas
about this scare.

"Come here, lad," he said as Sebastian appeared, "and tell me
frankly--have you been playing at ghosts to amuse yourself at
Fraulein Rottenmeier's expense?"

"No, on my honor, sir; pray, do not think it; I am very
uncomfortable about the matter myself," answered Sebastian with
unmistakable truthfulness.

"Well, if that is so, I will show you and John to-morrow morning
how ghosts look in the daylight. You ought to be ashamed of
yourself, Sebastian, a great strong lad like you, to run away
from a ghost! But now go and take a message to my old friend the
doctor; give him my kind regards, and ask him if he will come to
me to-night at nine o'clock without fail; I have come by express
from Paris to consult him. I shall want him to spend the night
here, so bad a case is it; so he will arrange accordingly. You
understand?"

"Yes, sir," replied Sebastian, "I will see to the matter as you
wish." Then Herr Sesemann returned to Clara, and begged her to
have no more fear, as he would soon find out all about the ghost
and put an end to it.

Punctually at nine o'clock, after the children had gone to bed
and Fraulein Rottenmeier had retired, the doctor arrived. He was
a grey-haired man with a fresh face, and two bright, kindly
eyes. He looked anxious as he walked in, but, on catching sight
of his patient, burst out laughing and clapped him on the
shoulder. "Well," he said, "you look pretty bad for a person that
I am to sit up with all night."

"Patience, friend," answered Herr Sesemann, "the one you have to
sit up for will look a good deal worse when we have once caught
him."

"So there is a sick person in the house, and one that has first
to be caught?"

"Much worse than that, doctor! a ghost in the house! My house is
haunted!"

The doctor laughed aloud.

"That's a nice way of showing sympathy, doctor!" continued Herr,
Sesemann. "It's a pity my friend Rottenmeier cannot hear you.
She is firmly convinced that some old member of the family is
wandering about the house doing penance for some awful crime he
committed."

"How did she become acquainted with him?" asked the doctor,
still very much amused.

So Herr Sesemann recounted to him how the front door was nightly
opened by somebody, according to the testimony of the combined
household, and he had therefore provided two loaded revolvers,
so as to be prepared for anything that happened; for either the
whole thing was a joke got up by some friend of the servants,
just to alarm the household while he was away--and in that case
a pistol fired into the air would procure him a wholesome fright--
or else it was a thief, who, by leading everybody at first to
think there was a ghost, made it safe for himself when he came
later to steal, as no one would venture to run out if they heard
him, and in that case too a good weapon would not be amiss.

The two took up their quarters for the night in the same room in
which Sebastian and John had kept watch. A bottle of wine was
placed on the table, for a little refreshment would be welcome
from time to time if the night was to be passed sitting up.
Beside it lay the two revolvers, and two good-sized candles had
also been lighted, for Herr Sesemann was determined not to wait
for ghosts in any half light.

The door was shut close to prevent the light being seen in the
hall outside, which might frighten away the ghost. And now the
two gentlemen sat comfortably back in the arm-chairs and began
talking of all sorts of things, now and then pausing to take a
good draught of wine, and so twelve o'clock struck before they
were aware.

"The ghost has got scent of us and is keeping away to-night,"
said the doctor.

"Wait a bit, it does not generally appear before one o'clock,"
answered his friend.

They started talking again. One o'clock struck. There was not a
sound about the house, nor in the street outside. Suddenly the
doctor lifted his finger.

"Hush! Sesemann, don't you hear something?"

They both listened, and they distinctly heard the bar softly
pushed aside and then the key turned in the lock and the door
opened. Herr Sesemann put out his hand for his revolver.

"You are not afraid, are you?" said the doctor as he stood up.

"It is better to take precautions," whispered Herr Sesemann, and
seizing one of the lights in his other hand, he followed the
doctor, who, armed in like manner with a light and a revolver,
went softly on in front. They stepped into the hall. The
moonlight was shining in through the open door and fell on a
white figure standing motionless in the doorway.

"Who is there?" thundered the doctor in a voice that echoed
through the hall, as the two men advanced with lights and
weapons towards the figure.

It turned and gave a low cry. There in her little white
nightgown stood Heidi, with bare feet, staring with wild eyes at
the lights and the revolvers, and trembling from head to foot
like a leaf in the wind. The two men looked as one another in
surprise.

"Why, I believe it is your little water-carrier, Sesemann," said
the doctor.

"Child, what does this mean?" said Herr Sesemann. "What did you
want? why did you come down here?"

White with terror, and hardly able to make her voice heard,
Heidi answered, "I don't know."

But now the doctor stepped forward. "This is a matter for me to
see to, Sesemann; go back to your chair. I must take the child
upstairs to her bed."

And with that he put down his revolver and gently taking the
child by the hand led her upstairs. "Don't be frightened," he
said as they went up side by side, "it's nothing to be
frightened about; it's all right, only just go quietly."

On reaching Heidi's room the doctor put the candle down on the
table, and taking Heidi up in his arms laid her on the bed and
carefully covered her over. Then he sat down beside her and
waited until Heidi had grown quieter and no longer trembled so
violently. He took her hand and said in a kind, soothing voice,
"There, now you feel better, and now tell me where you were
wanting to go to?"

"I did not want to go anywhere," said Heidi. "I did not know I
went downstairs, but all at once I was there."

"I see, and had you been dreaming, so that you seemed to see and
hear something very distinctly?"

"Yes, I dream every night, and always about the same things. I
think I am back with the grandfather and I hear the sound in the
fir trees outside, and I see the stars shining so brightly, and
then I open the door quickly and run out, and it is all so
beautiful! But when I wake I am still in Frankfurt." And Heidi
struggled as she spoke to keep back the sobs which seemed to
choke her.

"And have you no pain anywhere? no pain in your head or back?"

"No, only a feeling as if there were a great stone weighing on
me here."

"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.

CHAPTER XIII. A SUMMER EVENING ON THE MOUNTAIN

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.

Heidi was soon sitting in the railway carriage, holding her
basket tightly on her lap; she would not let it out of her hands
for a moment, for it contained the delicious rolls for
grandmother; so she must keep it carefully, and even peep inside
it from time to time to enjoy the sight of them. For many hours
she sat as still as a mouse; only now was she beginning to
realize that she was going home to the grandfather, the
mountain, the grandmother, and Peter, and pictures of all she was
going to see again rose one by one before her eyes; she thought
of how everything would look at home, but this brought other
thoughts to her mind, and all of a sudden she said anxiously,
"Sebastian, are you sure that grandmother on the mountain is not
dead?"

"No, no," said Sebastian, wishing to soothe her, "we will hope
not; she is sure to be alive still."

Then Heidi fell back on her own thoughts again. Now and then she
looked inside the basket, for the thing she looked forward to
most was laying all the rolls out on grandmother's table. After
a long silence she spoke again, "If only we could know for
certain that grandmother is alive!"

"Yes, yes," said Sebastian, half asleep; "she is sure to be
alive, there is no reason why she should be dead."

After a while sleep fell on Heidi too, and after her disturbed
night and early rising she slept so soundly that she did not
wake till Sebastian shook her by the arm and called to her, "Wake
up, wake up! we shall have to get out directly; we are just in
Basle!"

There was a further railway journey of many hours the next day.
Heidi again sat with her basket on her knee, for she would not
have given it up to Sebastian on any consideration; to-day she
never even opened her mouth, for her excitement, which increased
with every mile of the journey, kept her speechless. All of a
sudden, before Heidi expected it, a voice called out,
"Mayenfeld." She and Sebastian both jumped up, the latter also
taken by surprise. In another minute they were both standing on
the platform with Heidi's trunk, and the train was steaming away
down the valley. Sebastian looked after it regretfully, for he
preferred the easier mode of travelling to a wearisome climb on
foot, especially as there was danger no doubt as well as fatigue
in a country like this, where, according to Sebastian's idea,
everything and everybody were half savage. He therefore looked
cautiously to either side to see who was a likely person to ask
the safest way to Dorfli.

Just outside the station he saw a shabby-looking little cart and
horse which a broad-shouldered man was loading with heavy sacks
that had been brought by the train, so he went up to him and
asked which was the safest way to get to Dorfli.

"All the roads about here are safe," was the curt reply.

So Sebastian altered his question and asked which was the best
way to avoid falling over the precipice, and also how a box
could be conveyed to Dorfli. The man looked at the box, weighing
it with his eye, and then volunteered if it was not too heavy to
take it on his own cart, as he was driving to Dorfli. After some
little interchange of words it was finally agreed that the man
should take both the child and the box to Dorfli, and there find
some one who could be sent on with Heidi up the mountain.

"I can go by myself, I know the way well from Dorfli," put in
Heidi, who had been listening attentively to the conversation.
Sebastian was greatly relieved at not having to do any mountain
climbing. He drew Heidi aside and gave her a thick rolled
parcel, and a letter for her grandfather; the parcel, he told
her, was a present from Herr Sesemann, and she must put it at the
bottom of her basket under the rolls and be very careful not to
lose it, as Herr Sesemann would be very vexed if she did, and
never be the same to her again; so little miss was to think well
of what he said.

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