Heidi by Johanna Spyri (android e book reader txt) 📖

>but I need not ask, no Alpine rose could look more blooming. I

am glad, child, it is a pleasure to me to see you so.”

 

And Heidi looked up with equal pleasure into Herr Sesemann’s

kind face. How good he had always been to her! And that he should

find such happiness awaiting him up here on the mountain made her

heart beat with gladness.

 

Grandmamma now led her son to introduce him to Uncle, and while

the two men were shaking hands and Herr Sesemann was expressing

his heartfelt thanks and boundless astonishment to the old man,

grandmamma wandered round to the back to see the old fir trees

again.

 

Here another unexpected sight met her gaze, for there, under the

trees where the long branches had left a clear space on the

ground, stood a great bush of the most wonderful dark blue

gentians, as fresh and shining as if they were growing on the

spot. She clasped her hands, enraptured with their beauty.

 

“How exquisite! what a lovely sight!” she exclaimed. “Heidi,

dearest child, come here! Is it you who have prepared this

pleasure for me? It is perfectly wonderful!”

 

The children ran up.

 

“No, no, I did not put them there,” said Heidi, “but I know who

did.”

 

“They grow just like that on the mountain, grandmamma, only if

anything they look more beautiful still,” Clara put in; “but

guess who brought those down to-day,” and as she spoke she gave

such a pleased smile that the grandmother thought for a moment

the child herself must have gathered them. But that was hardly

possible.

 

At this moment a slight rustling was heard behind the fir trees.

It was Peter, who had just arrived. He had made a long round,

having seen from the distance who it was standing beside Uncle

in front of the hut, and he was trying to slip by unobserved. But

grandmamma had seen and recognized him, and suddenly the thought

struck her that it might be Peter who had brought the flowers

and that he was now trying to get away unseen, feeling shy about

it; but she could not let him go off like that, he must have some

little reward.

 

“Come along, boy; come here, do not be afraid,” she called to

him.

 

Peter stood still, petrified with fear. After all he had gone

through that day he felt he had no longer any power of

resistance left. All he could think was, “It’s all up with me

now.” Every hair of his head stood on end, and he stepped forth

from behind the fir trees, his face pale and distorted with

terror.

 

“Courage, boy,” said grandmamma in her effort to dispel his

shyness, “tell me now straight out without hesitation, was it

you who did it?”

 

Peter did not lift his eyes and therefore did not see at what

grandmamma was pointing. But he knew that Uncle was standing at

the corner of the hut, fixing him with his grey eyes, while

beside him stood the most terrible person that Peter could

conceive —the police-constable from Frankfurt. Quaking in every

limb, and with trembling lips he muttered a low, “Yes.”

 

“Well, and what is there dreadful about that? said grandmamma.

 

“Because—because—it is all broken to pieces and no one can put

it together again.” Peter brought out his words with difficulty,

and his knees knocked together so that he could hardly stand.

 

Grandmamma went up to Uncle. “Is that poor boy a little out of

his mind?” she asked sympathisingly.

 

“Not in, the least,” Uncle assured her, “it is only that he was

the wind that sent the chair rolling down the slope, and he is

expecting his well-deserved punishment.”

 

Grandmamma found this hard to believe, for in her opinion Peter

did not look an entirely bad boy, nor could he have any reason

for destroying such a necessary thing as the chair. But Uncle

had only given expression to the suspicion that he had from the

moment the accident happened. The angry looks which Peter had

from the beginning cast at Clara, and the other signs of his

dislike to what had been taking place on the mountain, had not

escaped Uncle’s eye. Putting two and two together he had come to

the right conclusion as to the cause of the disaster, and he

therefore spoke without hesitation when he accused Peter. The

lady broke into lively expostulations on hearing this.

 

“No, no, dear Uncle, we will not punish the poor boy any

further. One must be fair to him. Here are all these strangers

from Frankfurt who come and carry away Heidi, his one sole

possession, and a possession well worth having too, and he is

left to sit alone day after day for weeks, with nothing to do but

brood over his wrongs. No, no, let us be fair to him; his anger

got the upper hand and drove him an act of revenge—a foolish

one, I own, but then we all behave foolishly when we are angry.”

And saying this she went back to Peter, who still stood

frightened and trembling. She sat down on the seat under the fir

trees and called him to her kindly,—

 

“Come here, boy, and stand in front of me, for I have something

to say to you. Leave off shaking and trembling, for I want you

to listen to me. You sent the chair rolling down the mountain so

that it was broken to pieces. That was a very wrong thing to do,

as you yourself knew very well at the time, and you also knew

that you deserved to be punished for it, and in order to escape

this you have been doing all you can to hide the truth from

everybody. But be sure of this, Peter: that those who do wrong

make a mistake when they think no one knows anything about it.

For God sees and hears everything, and when the wicked doer

tries to hide what he has done, then God wakes up a little

watchman that He places inside us all when we are born and who

sleeps on quietly till we do something wrong. And the little

watchman has a small goad in his hand, And when he wakes up he

keeps on pricking us with it, so that we have not a moment’s

peace. And the watchman torments us still further, for he keeps

on calling out, ‘Now you will be found out! Now they will drag

you off to punishment!’ And so we pass our life in fear and

trouble, and never know a moment’s happiness or peace. Have you

not felt something like that lately, Peter?”

 

Peter gave a contrite nod of the head, as one who knew all about

it, for grandmamma had described his own feelings exactly.

 

“And you calculated wrongly also in another way,” continued

grandmamma, “for you see the harm you intended has turned out

for the best for those you wished to hurt. As Clara had no chair

to go in and yet wanted so much to see the flowers, she made the

effort to walk, and every day since she has been walking better

and better, and if she remains up here she will in time be able

to go up the mountain every day, much oftener than she would

have done in her chair. So you see, Peter, God is able to bring

good out of evil for those whom you meant to injure, and you who

did the evil were left to suffer the unhappy consequences of it.

Do you thoroughly understand all I have said to you, Peter? If

so, do not forget my words, and whenever you feel inclined to do

anything wrong, think of the little watchman inside you with his

goad and his disagreeable voice. Will you remember all this?”

 

“Yes, I will,” answered Peter, still very subdued, for he did

not yet know how the matter was going to end, as the police

constable was still standing with the Uncle.

 

“That’s right, and now the thing is over and done for,” said

grandmamma. “But I should like you to have something for a

pleasant reminder of the visitors from Frankfurt. Can you tell

me anything that you have wished very much to have? What would

you like best as a present?”

 

Peter lifted his head at this, and stared open-eyed at

grandmamma. Up to the last minute he had been expecting

something dreadful to happen, and now he might have anything that

he wanted. His mind seemed all of a whirl.

 

“I mean what I say,” went on grandmamma. “You shall choose what

you would like to have as a remembrance from the Frankfurt

visitors, and as a token that they will not think any more of

the wrong thing you did. Now do you understand me, boy?”

 

The fact began at last to dawn upon Peter’s mind that he had no

further punishment to fear, and that the kind lady sitting in

front of him had delivered him from the police constable. He

suddenly felt as if the weight of a mountain had fallen off him.

He had also by this time awakened to the further conviction that

it was better to make a full confession at once of anything he

had done wrong or had left undone, and so he said, “And I lost

the paper, too.”

 

Grandmamma had to consider a moment what he meant, but soon

recalled his connection with her telegram, and answered kindly,—

 

“You are a good boy to tell me! Never conceal anything you have

done wrong, and then all will come right again. And now what

would you like me to give you?”

 

Peter grew almost giddy with the thought that he could have

anything in the world that he wished for. He had a vision of the

yearly fair at Mayenfeld with the glittering stalls and all the

lovely things that he had stood gazing at for hours, without a

hope of ever possessing one of them, for Peter’s purse never

held more than a halfpenny, and all these fascinating objects

cost double that amount. There were the pretty little red

whistles that he could use to call his goats, and the splendid

knives with rounded handles, known as toad-strikers, with which

one could do such famous work among the hazel bushes.

 

Peter remained pondering; he was trying to think which of these

two desirable objects he should best like to have, and he found

it difficult to decide. Then a bright thought occurred to him;

he would then be able to think over the matter between now and

next year’s fair.

 

“A penny,” answered Peter, who was no longer in doubt.

 

Grandmamma could not help laughing. “That is not an extravagant

request. Come here then!” and she pulled out her purse and put

four bright round shillings in his hand and, then laid some

pennies on top of it. “We will settle our accounts at once,” she

continued, “and I will explain them to you. I have given you as

many pennies as there are weeks in the year, and so every Sunday

throughout the year you can take out a penny to spend.”

 

“As long as I live?” said Peter quite innocently.

 

Grandmamma laughed more still at this, and the men hearing her,

paused in their talk to listen to what was going on.

 

“Yes, boy, you shall have it all your life—I will put it down

in my will. Do you hear, my son? and you are to put it down in

yours as well: a penny a week to Peter as long as he lives.”

 

Herr Sesemann nodded his assent and joined in the laughter.