Heidi (20 page)

And the old man himself said nothing. For the first time for
many years his eyes were wet, and he had to pass his hand across
them. Then he unloosed Heidi's arms, put her on his knee, and
after looking at her for a moment, "So you have come back to me,
Heidi," he said, "how is that? You don't look much of a grand
lady. Did they send you away?"

"Oh, no, grandfather," said Heidi eagerly, "you must not think
that; they were all so kind—Clara, and grandmamma, and Herr
Sesemann. But you see, grandfather, I did not know how to bear
myself till I got home again to you. I used to think I should
die, for I felt as if I could not breathe; but I never said
anything because it would have been ungrateful. And then
suddenly one morning quite early Herr Sesemann said to me—but I
think it was partly the doctor's doing—but perhaps it's all in
the letter—" and Heidi jumped down and fetched the roll and the
letter and handed them both to her grandfather.

"That belongs to you," said the latter, laying the roll down on
the bench beside him. Then he opened the letter, read it through
and without a word put it in his pocket.

"Do you think you can still drink milk with me, Heidi?" he
asked, taking the child by the hand to go into the hut. "But
bring your money with you; you can buy a bed and bedclothes and
dresses for a couple of years with it."

"I am sure I do not want it," replied Heidi. "I have got a bed
already, and Clara has put such a lot of clothes in my box that
I shall never want any more."

"Take it and put it in the cupboard; you will want it some day I
have no doubt."

Heidi obeyed and skipped happily after her grandfather into the
house; she ran into all the corners, delighted to see everything
again, and then went up the ladder—but there she came to a
pause and called down in a tone of surprise and distress, "Oh,
grandfather, my bed's gone."

"We can soon make it up again," he answered her from below. "I
did not know that you were coming back; come along now and have
your milk."

Heidi came down, sat herself on her high stool in the old place,
and then taking up her bowl drank her milk eagerly, as if she
had never come across anything so delicious, and as she put down
her bowl, she exclaimed, "Our milk tastes nicer than anything
else in the world, grandfather."

A shrill whistle was heard outside. Heidi darted out like a
flash of lightning. There were the goats leaping and springing
among the rocks, with Peter in their midst. When he caught sight
of Heidi he stood still with astonishment and gazed speechlessly
at her. Heidi called out, "Good-evening, Peter," and then ran in
among the goats. "Little Swan! Little Bear! do you know me
again?" And the animals evidently recognized her voice at once,
for they began rubbing their heads against her and bleating
loudly as if for joy, and as she called the other goats by name
one after the other, they all came scampering towards her helter-
skelter and crowding round her. The impatient Greenfinch sprang
into the air and over two of her companions in order to get
nearer, and even the shy little Snowflake butted the Great Turk
out of her way in quite a determined manner, which left him
standing taken aback by her boldness, and lifting his beard in
the air as much as to say, You see who I am.

Heidi was out of her mind with delight at being among all her
old friends again; she flung her arms round the pretty little
Snowflake, stroked the obstreperous Greenfinch, while she
herself was thrust at from all sides by the affectionate and
confiding goats; and so at last she got near to where Peter was
still standing, not having yet got over his surprise.

"Come down, Peter," cried Heidi, "and say good-evening to me."

"So you are back again?" he found words to say at last, and now
ran down and took Heidi's hand which she was holding out in
greeting, and immediately put the same question to her which he
had been in the habit of doing in the old days when they
returned home in the evening, "Will you come out with me again to-
morrow?"

"Not to-morrow, but the day after perhaps, for to-morrow I must
go down to grandmother."

"I am glad you are back," said Peter, while his whole face
beamed with pleasure, and then he prepared to go on with his
goats; but he never had had so much trouble with them before, for
when at last, by coaxing and threats, he had got them all
together, and Heidi had gone off with an arm over either head of
her grandfather's two, the whole flock suddenly turned and ran
after her. Heidi had to go inside the stall with her two and shut
the door, or Peter would never have got home that night. When
Heidi went indoors after this she found her bed already made up
for her; the hay had been piled high for it and smelt
deliciously, for it had only just been got in, and the
grandfather had carefully spread and tucked in the clean sheets.
It was with a happy heart that Heidi lay down in it that night,
and her sleep was sounder than it had been for a whole year past.
The grandfather got up at least ten times during the night and
mounted the ladder to see if Heidi was all right and showing no
signs of restlessness, and to feel that the hay he had stuffed
into the round window was keeping the moon from shining too
brightly upon her. But Heidi did not stir; she had no need now
to wander about, for the great burning longing of her heart was
satisfied; she had seen the high mountains and rocks alight in
the evening glow, she had heard the wind in the fir trees, she
was at home again on the mountain.

Heidi was standing under the waving fir trees waiting for her
grandfather, who was going down with her to grandmother's, and
then on to Dorfli to fetch her box. She was longing to know how
grandmother had enjoyed her white bread and impatient to see and
hear her again; but no time seemed weary to her now, for she
could not listen long enough to the familiar voice of the trees,
or drink in too much of the fragrance wafted to her from the
green pastures where the golden-headed flowers were glowing in
the sun, a very feast to her eyes. The grandfather came out,
gave a look round, and then called to her in a cheerful voice,
"Well, now we can be off."

It was Saturday, a day when Alm-Uncle made everything clean and
tidy inside and outside the house; he had devoted his morning to
this work so as to be able to accompany Heidi in the afternoon,
and the whole place was now as spick and span as he liked to see
it. They parted at the grandmother's cottage and Heidi ran in.
The grandmother had heard her steps approaching and greeted her
as she crossed the threshold, "Is it you, child? Have you come
again?"

Then she took hold of Heidi's hand and held it fast in her own,
for she still seemed to fear that the child might be torn from
her again. And now she had to tell Heidi how much she had
enjoyed the white bread, and how much stronger she felt already
for having been able to eat it, and then Peter's mother went on
and said she was sure that if her mother could eat like that for
a week she would get back some of her strength, but she was so
afraid of coming to the end of the rolls, that she had only
eaten one as yet. Heidi listened to all Brigitta said, and sat
thinking for a while. Then she suddenly thought of a way.

"I know, grandmother, what I will do," she said eagerly, "I will
write to Clara, and she will send me as many rolls again, if not
twice as many as you have already, for I had ever such a large
heap in the wardrobe, and when they were all taken away she
promised to give me as many back, and she would do so I am
sure."

"That is a good idea," said Brigitta; "but then, they would get
hard and stale. The baker in Dorfli makes the white rolls, and
if we could get some of those he has over now and then—but I can
only just manage to pay for the black bread."

A further bright thought came to Heidi, and with a look of joy,
"Oh, I have lots of money, grandmother," she cried gleefully,
skipping about the room in her delight, "and I know now what I
will do with it. You must have a fresh white roll every day, and
two on Sunday, and Peter can bring them up from Dorfli."

"No, no, child!" answered the grandmother, "I cannot let you do
that; the money was not given to you for that purpose; you must
give it to your grandfather, and he will tell you how you are to
spend it."

But Heidi was not to be hindered in her kind intentions, and she
continued to jump about, saying over and over again in a tone of
exultation, "Now, grandmother can have a roll every day and will
grow quite strong again—and, Oh, grandmother," she suddenly
exclaimed with an increase of jubilation in her voice, "if you
get strong everything will grow light again for you; perhaps
it's only because you are weak that it is dark." The grandmother
said nothing, she did not wish to spoil the child's pleasure. As
she went jumping about Heidi suddenly caught sight of the
grandmother's song book, and another happy idea struck her,
"Grandmother, I can also read now, would you like me to read you
one of your hymns from your old book?"

"Oh, yes," said the grandmother, surprised and delighted; "but
can you really read, child, really?"

Heidi had climbed on to a chair and had already lifted down the
book, bringing a cloud of dust with it, for it had lain
untouched on the shelf for a long time. Heidi wiped it, sat
herself down on a stool beside the old woman, and asked her which
hymn she should read.

"What you like, child, what you like," and the grandmother
pushed her spinning-wheel aside and sat in eager expectation
waiting for Heidi to begin. Heidi turned over the leaves and read
a line out softly to herself here and there. At last she said,

"Here is one about the sun, grandmother, I will read you that."
And Heidi began, reading with more and more warmth of expression
as she went on,—

The morning breaks,
And warm and bright
The earth lies still
In the golden light—
For Dawn has scattered the clouds of night.

God's handiwork
Is seen around,
Things great and small
To His praise abound—
Where are the signs of His love not found?

All things must pass,
But God shall still
With steadfast power
His will fulfil—
Sure and unshaken is His will.

His saving grace
Will never fail,
Though grief and fear
The heart assail—
O'er life's wild seas He will prevail.

Joy shall be ours
In that garden blest,
Where after storm
We find our rest—
I wait in peace—God's time is best.

The grandmother sat with folded hands and a look of indescribable
joy on her face, such as Heidi had never seen there before,
although at the same time the tears were running down her cheeks.
As Heidi finished, she implored her, saying, "Read it once again,
child, just once again."

And the child began again, with as much pleasure in the verses
as the grandmother,—

Joy shall be ours
In that garden blest,
Where after storm
We find our rest—
I wait in peace—God's time is best.

"Ah, Heidi, that brings light to the heart! What comfort you
have brought me!"

And the old woman kept on repeating the glad words, while Heidi
beamed with happiness, and she could not take her eyes away from
the grandmother's face, which had never looked like that before.
It had no longer the old troubled expression, but was alight
with peace and joy as if she were already looking with clear new
eyes into the garden or Paradise.

Some one now knocked at the window and Heidi looked up and saw
her grandfather beckoning her to come home with him. She
promised the grandmother before leaving her that she would be
with her the next day, and even if she went out with Peter she
would only spend half the day with him, for the thought that she
might make it light and happy again for the grandmother gave her
the greatest pleasure, greater even than being out on the sunny
mountain with the flowers and goats. As she was going out
Brigitta ran to her with the frock and hat she had left. Heidi
put the dress over her arm, for, as she thought to herself, the
grandfather had seen that before, but she obstinately refused to
take back the hat; Brigitta could keep it, for she should never
put it on her head again. Heidi was so full of her morning's
doings that she began at once to tell her grandfather all about
them: how the white bread could be fetched every day from Dorfli
if there was money for it, and how the grandmother had all at
once grown stronger and happier, and light had come to her. Then
she returned to the subject of the rolls. "If the grandmother
won't take the money, grandfather, will you give it all to me,
and I can then give Peter enough every day to buy a roll and two
on Sunday?"

"But how about the bed?" said her grandfather. "It would be nice
for you to have a proper bed, and there would then be plenty for
the bread."

But Heidi gave her grandfather no peace till he consented to do
what she wanted; she slept a great deal better, she said, on her
bed of hay than on her fine pillowed bed in Frankfurt. So at
last he said, "The money is yours, do what you like with it; you
can buy bread for grandmother for years to come with it."

Heidi shouted for joy at the thought that grandmother would
never need any more to eat hard black bread, and "Oh,
grandfather!" she said, "everything is happier now than it has
ever been in our lives before!" and she sang and skipped along,
holding her grandfather's hand as light-hearted as a bird. But
all at once she grew quiet and said, "If God had let me come at
once, as I prayed, then everything would have been different, I
should only have had a little bread to bring to grandmother, and
I should not have been able to read, which is such a comfort to
her; but God has arranged it all so much better than I knew how
to; everything has happened just as the other grandmother said it
would. Oh, how glad I am that God did not let me have at once all
I prayed and wept for! And now I shall always pray to God as she
told me, and always thank Him, and when He does not do anything I
ask for I shall think to myself, It's just like it was in
Frankfurt: God, I am sure, is going to do something better still.
So we will pray every day, won't we, grandfather, and never
forget Him again, or else He may forget us."