“Grandmother, Clara has sent you that,” Heidi said.
“Oh, what kind good people they are to think of a poor old woman like me! I never thought I should ever own such a splendid wrap.”
At this moment Peter came stumbling in.
“The uncle is coming up behind me, and Heidi must—” that was as far as he got, for his eyes had fastened on the sausage. Heidi, however, had already said goodbye, for she knew what he had meant. Though her uncle never went by the hut any more without stepping in, she knew it was too late today. “Heidi, come, you must get your sleep,” he called through the open door. Bidding them all good night, he took Heidi by the hand and under the glistening stars they wandered home to their peaceful cottage.
XVII
Retaliation
Early the next morning the doctor climbed up the mountain in company with Peter and his goats. The friendly gentleman made several attempts to start a conversation with the boy, but as answer to his questions he got nothing more than monosyllables. When they arrived on top, they found Heidi already waiting, fresh and rosy as the early dawn.
“Are you coming?” asked Peter as usual.
“Of course I shall, if the doctor comes with us,” replied the child.
The grandfather, coming out of the hut, greeted the newcomer with great respect. Then he went up to Peter, and hung on his shoulder the sack, which seemed to contain more than usual that day.
When they had started on their way, Heidi kept urging forward the goats, which were crowding about her. When at last she was walking peacefully by the doctor’s side, she began to relate to him many things about the goats and all their strange pranks, and about the flowers, rocks and birds they saw. When they arrived at their destination, time seemed to have flown. Peter all the time was sending many an angry glance at the unconscious doctor, who never even noticed it.
Heidi now took the doctor to her favorite spot. From there they could hear the peaceful-sounding bells of the grazing cattle below. The sky was deep blue, and above their heads the eagle was circling with outstretched wings. Everything was luminous and bright about them, but the doctor had been silent. Suddenly looking up, he beheld Heidi’s radiant eyes.
“Heidi, it is beautiful up here,” he said. “But how can anybody with a heavy heart enjoy the beauty? Tell me!”
“Oh,” exclaimed Heidi, “one never has a sad heart here. One only gets unhappy in Frankfurt.”
A faint smile passed over the doctor’s face. Then he began: “But if somebody has brought his sorrow away with him, how would you comfort him?”
“God in Heaven alone can help him.”
“That is true, child,” remarked the doctor. “But what can we do when God Himself has sent us the affliction?”
After meditating a moment, Heidi replied: “One must wait patiently, for God knows how to turn the saddest things to something happy in the end. God will show us what He has meant to do for us. But He will only do so if we pray to Him patiently.”
“I hope you will always keep this beautiful belief, Heidi,” said the doctor. Then looking up at the mighty cliffs above, he continued: “Think how sad it would make us not to be able to see all these beautiful things. Wouldn’t that make us doubly sad? Can you understand me, child?”
A great pain shot through Heidi’s breast. She had to think of the poor grandmother. Her blindness was always a great sorrow to the child, and she had been struck with it anew. Seriously she replied:
“Oh yes, I can understand it. But then we can read grandmother’s songs; they make us happy and bright again.”
“Which songs, Heidi?”
“Oh, those of the sun, and of the beautiful garden, and then the last verses of the long one. Grandmother loves them so that I always have to read them over three times,” said Heidi.
“I wish you would say them to me, child, for I should like to hear them,” said the doctor.
Heidi, folding her hands, began the consoling verses. She stopped suddenly, however, for the doctor did not seem to listen. He was sitting motionless, holding his hand before his eyes. Thinking that he had fallen asleep, she remained silent. But the verses had recalled his childhood days; he seemed to hear his mother and see her loving eyes, for when he was a little boy she had sung this song to him. A long time he sat there, till he discovered that Heidi was watching him.
“Heidi, your song was lovely,” he said with a more joyful voice. “We must come here another day and then you can recite it to me again.”
During all this time Peter had been boiling with anger. Now that Heidi had come again to the pasture with him, she did nothing but talk to the old gentleman. It made him very cross that he was not even able to get near her. Standing a little distance behind Heidi’s friend, he shook his fist at him, and soon afterwards both fists, finally raising them up to the sky, as Heidi and the doctor remained together.
When the sun stood in its zenith and Peter knew that it was noon, he called over to them with all his might: “Time to eat.”
When Heidi was getting up to fetch their dinner, the doctor just asked for a glass of milk, which was all he wanted. The child also decided to make the milk her sole repast, running over to Peter and informing him of their resolution.
When the boy found that the whole contents of the bag was his, he hurried with his task as never in his life before. But he felt guilty on account of his former anger at the kind gentleman. To show
