“Oh!—Oh!—So it was she?” exclaimed the butler.
“Yes, it was! You are a coward, and you can tell John he is the same. Such foolish men, to be afraid!” With that Mr. Sesemann went to his room to write a letter to Heidi’s grandfather.
Sebastian, feeling ashamed, said to himself that he ought to have resisted John and found out alone.
Heidi was dressed in her Sunday frock and stood waiting for further commands.
Mr. Sesemann called her now. “Good morning, Mr. Sesemann,” Heidi said when she entered.
“What do you think about it, little one?” he asked her. Heidi looked up to him in amazement.
“You don’t seem to know anything about it,” laughed Mr. Sesemann. Tinette had not even told the child, for she thought it beneath her dignity to speak to the vulgar Heidi.
“You are going home today.”
“Home?” Heidi repeated in a low voice. She had to gasp, so great was her surprise.
“Wouldn’t you like to hear something about it?” asked Mr. Sesemann smiling.
“Oh yes, I should like to,” said the blushing child.
“Good, good,” said the kind gentleman. “Sit down and eat a big breakfast now, for you are going away right afterwards.”
The child could not even swallow a morsel, though she tried to eat out of obedience. It seemed to her as if it was only a dream.
“Go to Clara, Heidi, till the carriage comes,” Mr. Sesemann said kindly.
Heidi had been wishing to go, and now she ran to Clara’s room, where a huge trunk was standing.
“Heidi, look at the things I had packed for you. Do you like them?” Clara asked.
There were a great many lovely things in it, but Heidi jumped for joy when she discovered a little basket with twelve round white rolls for the grandmother. The children had forgotten that the moment for parting had come, when the carriage was announced. Heidi had to get all her own treasures from her room yet. The grandmama’s book was carefully packed, and the red shawl that Miss Rottenmeier had purposely left behind. Then putting on her pretty hat, she left her room to say goodbye to Clara. There was not much time left to do so, for Mr. Sesemann was waiting to put Heidi in the carriage. When Miss Rottenmeier, who was standing on the stairs to bid farewell to her pupil, saw the red bundle in Heidi’s hand, she seized it and threw it on the ground. Heidi looked imploringly at her kind protector, and Mr. Sesemann, seeing how much she treasured it, gave it back to her. The happy child at parting thanked him for all his goodness. She also sent a message of thanks to the good old doctor, whom she suspected to be the real cause of her going.
While Heidi was being lifted into the carriage, Mr. Sesemann assured her that Clara and he would never forget her. Sebastian followed with Heidi’s basket and a large bag with provisions. Mr. Sesemann called out: “Happy journey!” and the carriage rolled away.
Only when Heidi was sitting in the train did she become conscious of where she was going. She knew now that she would really see her grandfather and the grandmother again, also Peter and the goats. Her only fear was that the poor blind grandmother might have died while she was away.
The thing she looked forward to most was giving the soft white rolls to the grandmother. While she was musing over all these things, she fell asleep. In Basle she was roused by Sebastian, for there they were to spend the night.
The next morning they started off again, and it took them many hours before they reached Mayenfeld. When Sebastian stood on the platform of the station, he wished he could have travelled further in the train rather than have to climb a mountain. The last part of the trip might be dangerous, for everything seemed half-wild in this country. Looking round, he discovered a small wagon with a lean horse. A broad-shouldered man was just loading up large bags, which had come by the train. Sebastian, approaching the man, asked some information concerning the least dangerous ascent to the Alp. After a while it was settled that the man should take Heidi and her trunk to the village and see to it that somebody would go up with her from there.
Not a word had escaped Heidi, until she now said, “I can go up alone from the village. I know the road.” Sebastian felt relieved, and calling Heidi to him, presented her with a heavy roll of bills and a letter for the grandfather. These precious things were put at the bottom of the basket, under the rolls, so that they could not possibly get lost.
Heidi promised to be careful of them, and was lifted up to the cart. The two old friends shook hands and parted, and Sebastian, with a slightly bad conscience for having deserted the child so soon, sat down on the station to wait for a returning train.
The driver was no other than the village baker, who had never seen Heidi but had heard a great deal about her. He had known her parents and immediately guessed she was the child who had lived with the Alm-Uncle. Curious to know why she came home again, he began a conversation.
“Are you Heidi, the child who lived with the Alm-Uncle?”
“Yes.”
“Why are you coming home again? Did you get on badly?”
“Oh no; nobody could have got on better than I did in Frankfurt.”
“Then why are you coming back?”
“Because Mr. Sesemann let me come.”
“Pooh! why didn’t you stay?”
“Because I would rather be with my
