Putting his revolver aside, he led the trembling child upstairs.
“Don’t be afraid; just be quiet! Everything is all right; don’t be frightened.”
When they had arrived in Heidi’s room, the doctor put the little girl to bed, covering her up carefully. Drawing a chair near the couch, he waited till Heidi had calmed down and had stopped trembling. Then taking her hand in his, he said kindly: “Now everything is all right again. Tell me where you wanted to go?”
“I did not want to go anywhere,” Heidi assured him; “I did not go myself, only I was there all of a sudden.”
“Really! Tell me, what did you dream?”
“Oh, I have the same dream every night. I always think I am with my grandfather again and can hear the fir-trees roar. I always think how beautiful the stars must be, and then I open the door of the hut, and oh, it is so wonderful! But when I wake up I am always in Frankfurt.” Heidi had to fight the sobs that were rising in her throat.
“Does your back or your head hurt you, child?”
“No, but I feel as if a big stone was pressing me here.”
“As if you had eaten something that disagreed with you?”
“Oh no, but as if I wanted to cry hard.”
“So, and then you cry out, don’t you?”
“Oh no, I must never do that, for Miss Rottenmeier has forbidden it.”
“Then you swallow it down? Yes? Do you like to be here?”
“Oh yes,” was the faint, uncertain reply.
“Where did you live with your grandfather?”
“Up on the Alp.”
“But wasn’t it a little lonely there?”
“Oh no, it was so beautiful!”—But Heidi could say no more. The recollection, the excitement of the night and all the restrained sorrow overpowered the child. The tears rushed violently from her eyes and she broke out into loud sobs.
The doctor rose, and soothing her, said: “It won’t hurt to cry; you’ll go to sleep afterward, and when you wake up everything will come right.” Then he left the room.
Joining his anxious friend downstairs, he said: “Sesemann, the little girl is a sleepwalker, and has unconsciously scared your whole household. Besides, she is so homesick that her little body has wasted away. We shall have to act quickly. The only remedy for her is to be restored to her native mountain air. This is my prescription, and she must go tomorrow.”
“What, sick, a sleepwalker, and wasted away in my house! Nobody even suspected it! You think I should send this child back in this condition, when she has come in good health? No, doctor, ask everything but that. Take her in hand and prescribe for her, but let her get well before I send her back.”
“Sesemann,” the doctor replied seriously, “just think what you are doing. We cannot cure her with powders and pills. The child has not a strong constitution, and if you keep her here, she might never get well again. If you restore her to the bracing mountain air to which she is accustomed, she probably will get perfectly well again.”
When Mr. Sesemann heard this he said, “If that is your advice, we must act at once; this is the only way then.” With these words Mr. Sesemann took his friend’s arm and walked about with him to talk the matter over. When everything was settled, the doctor took his leave, for the morning had already come and the sun was shining in through the door.
XIII
Up the Alp on a Summer Evening
Mr. Sesemann, going upstairs in great agitation, knocked at the housekeeper’s door. He asked her to hurry, for preparations for a journey had to be made. Miss Rottenmeier obeyed the summons with the greatest indignation, for it was only half-past four in the morning. She dressed in haste, though with great difficulty, being nervous and excited. All the other servants were summoned likewise, and one and all thought that the master of the house had been seized by the ghost and that he was ringing for help. When they had all come down with terrified looks, they were most surprised to see Mr. Sesemann fresh and cheerful, giving orders. John was sent to get the horses ready and Tinette was told to prepare Heidi for her departure while Sebastian was commissioned to fetch Heidi’s aunt. Mr. Sesemann instructed the housekeeper to pack a trunk in all haste for Heidi.
Miss Rottenmeier experienced an extreme disappointment, for she had hoped for an explanation of the great mystery. But Mr. Sesemann, evidently not in the mood to converse further, went to his daughter’s room. Clara had been wakened by the unusual noises and was listening eagerly. Her father told her of what had happened and how the doctor had ordered Heidi back to her home, because her condition was serious and might get worse. She might even climb the roof, or be exposed to similar dangers, if she was not cured at once.
Clara was painfully surprised and tried to prevent her father from carrying out his plan. He remained firm, however, promising to take her to Switzerland himself the following summer, if she was good and sensible now. So the child, resigning herself, begged to have Heidi’s trunk packed in her room. Mr. Sesemann encouraged her to get together a good outfit for her little friend.
Heidi’s aunt had arrived in the meantime. Being told to take her niece home with her, she found no end of excuses, which plainly showed that she did not want to do it; for Deta well remembered the uncle’s parting words. Mr. Sesemann dismissed her and summoned Sebastian. The butler was told to get ready for travelling with the child. He was to go to Basle that day and spend the night at a good hotel which his master named. The next day the child was to be brought to her home.
“Listen, Sebastian,” Mr. Sesemann said, “and do exactly as I tell you. I know the Hotel
