Erick and Sally Part 11

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Churi....unexpectedly gave him such a severe push that Erick rolled down the rest of the mountain side...._]

Erick answered with a yodel and disappeared. Having arrived below, he met the Middle Lotters, who were bending in groups here and there, or lying on the ground, eating the berries which they picked. Erick could not find the red spot which he had seen from above; but not far away from him stood Churi, who had seen him coming down. Churi called to him:

"Come here, velvet pants, here are berries such as you have never seen."

Erick went quite calmly to him and when he now had stepped quite close to Churi, the latter unexpectedly gave him such a severe push that Erick rolled down the rest of the mountain side and right into the gray waves of the Woodbach.

When Churi saw that, he was frightened. For a moment he stared at the gray waves; but Erick had disappeared, not a speck of him could be seen.

Then Churi softly turned round and ran away as quickly as he could, without looking round, for his conscience bit him and drove him along, and he dared not look anyone in the face for fear that someone could read there what he had done. The other Middle Lotters had not paid attention to what was going on. Perhaps once in a while one of the crowd would ask, "What has become of Churi all of a sudden?" and another would answer, "He can go, wherever he likes," and they would turn again to their berries and think no more of him.

Meanwhile Sally had remained standing in the same spot and had waited for Erick's call. When it did not come, she began to call, but received no answer. She now called to Edi, and he came running with Ritz, and all three called together for Erick, but in vain. The sun had long since set, and it was beginning to grow dark. All children, even the Middle Lotters, went past them on their homeward way, and they were always the very last. "Show me once more, and be quite sure, the very spot where he began to climb down," said Edi, "I will go down, in the same path."

Sally showed the exact spot, where Erick had descended over the rock, and Edi began the descent a little timidly. But he arrived safely down below and ran hither and thither, calling with a loud voice: "Erick!

Erick!" But only the echo from the rocks, round about, answered mockingly: "'Rick! 'Rick!"

Now it really began to be dark, and round about not a human sound, only the rushing of the Woodbach, sounded through the stillness. Edi began to feel a little uncomfortable; he climbed as quickly as possible up the rock and said hastily: "Come, we will go home. Perhaps Erick is already at home, he may have gone by another road."

But Sally opposed this proposition with all her power, and a.s.sured him firmly that Erick had not gone home; that he would have first come back to her; and she was not going a step away from where he had left her, until Erick came, for if he were to come and she was not there, then he would wait for her again, if he had to wait the whole night, she was sure of that.

"We must go home, you know it," declared Edi. "Come, Sally, you know we must."

"I cannot, I cannot!" lamented Sally. "You go with Ritz and tell them at home how it is; perhaps Erick cannot find the road again." At this conjecture which, only now after she had uttered it, Sally saw plainly, she began to weep and sob piteously, while Edi took Ritz by the hand and ran toward home as quickly as possible.

Mother and Aunt were standing before the parsonage, looking in all directions to see if the children would not make their appearance somewhere. 'Lizebeth ran to and fro, hither and thither, and asked of the returning children of the neighborhood, where the parsonage children were. She received the same answer from all: the three were still below by the Woodbach, and were waiting for Erick, who had gone alone. At last Ritz and Edi came running through the darkness. Both panted in confusion, one interrupting the other. They shouted: "Sally sits--"--"Erick is over"--"Yes, Erick is over"--"But Sally still sits and"--

"Sally sits and Erick is over!" cried the aunt. "Now let anyone make sense of that!" But the mother drew Edi aside and said; "Come, tell me quietly what has happened."

Then Edi told everything, how Erick had climbed over the rock and how Sally now was sitting alone below near the Woodbach, and Erick gave no answer to all his calling.

"For heaven's sake," the mother cried, now thoroughly frightened, "I hope that nothing has happened to Erick! Or could he have lost his way?"

She ran into the house to ask her husband what was to be done. At once 'Lizebeth ran to seven or eight neighbors and brought them together with a good deal of noise, all armed with staves and lanterns, as 'Lizebeth had ordered. Also several women hastened up, they too wanted to help in the seeking. Now the pastor had come out and joined them, for he himself wanted to do everything to find Erick, and at any rate to bring Sally home. 'Lizebeth came last in the procession, with a large basket hanging from her arm, for without a basket, 'Lizebeth could not leave the house.

Two long hours went by, while the mother walked ceaselessly to and fro, now to the window, then to the house door, now up and down the sitting-room; for the longer no news came the greater grew her fear. At last the house-door was opened and in came the father, holding the weeping Sally by the hand, for he had not been able to comfort her. They had at that time not been able to get a trace of Erick; but the neighbors were still seeking for him and had promised not to stop seeking until he was found. 'Lizebeth was still with them, and she was the most energetic of all the seekers.

Only after many comforting words from the mother, and after she had prayed with her whole heart with the child to the dear G.o.d, that He would protect the lost Erick and bring him home again, could Sally at last be quieted. She fell then into a deep sleep, and slept so soundly that she did not wake until late the next morning, and the mother was glad to know that her daughter was sleeping, as her grief would be awakened again, when she woke up.

Sunday morning pa.s.sed quietly and sadly in the parsonage. Father and Mother came out of church, before which the people of Upper Wood and Lower Wood, from Middle Lot, and the whole neighborhood round about, had a.s.sembled to talk over the calamity.

So far Ritz and Edi had kept very quiet, each busy with his own occupation. Edi, a large book on his knees, was reading. Ritz was very busy with breaking off the guns from all his tin soldiers, as now, having peace in the land, they did not need them.

"So," Edi, who had looked now and then over his book, said quite seriously: "if war breaks out again, then the whole company can stay at home, for they have no more guns; with what are they supposed to fight?"

Ritz had not thought of that. Quickly he threw all the gunless soldiers into the box and said: "I do not care to play any more today," no doubt with the unexpressed hope that the guns, by the time he should open the box again, might be somehow mended. But now he became restless and asked to go out, and Edi, who had seen the large gathering by the church, also decided to go out doors, for he too wanted to hear what was going on.

The aunt opposed their going out for some time, but finally gave her consent for half an hour, to which the mother, who had just come in, agreed. Now Sally appeared and rushed at once to her mother, to hear about Erick, whether he had come home and how, where and when, or whether news had come. But before the mother had time to tell her child gently that no news had come from Erick, but that more people had gone out, early in the morning, to seek him, the two brothers came rushing in with unusual bl.u.s.ter and shouted in confusion:

"There comes a large, large"--"A very tall gentleman"--"A gentleman who walks very straight out of a coach with two horses."

"I believe it is a general," Edi brought out finally and very importantly.

"No doubt," laughed the aunt. "Next you will see nothing but old Carthaginians walking about Upper Wood and the whole neighborhood."

But the mother did not laugh. "Could it not be someone who might bring news of Erick?" she asked. She ran to the window. At the entrance of the house was an open traveling coach, to which were harnessed two bay horses which pawed the ground impatiently, and shook their heads so that the bright harness rattled loudly. Ritz and Edi disappeared again. These sounds were irresistible to them.

Now 'Lizebeth rushed in. "There is a strange gentleman below with the master," she reported. "I have directed him to the pastor's study, so that the table can be set here, for I must go out again to the little boy. The gentleman has snow-white hair but he has a fresh, ruddy face and walks straight like an army man or a commander."

"And he came alone?" asked the mistress. "Then he does not bring Erick?

Who may he be?"

Meanwhile the tall, strange gentleman had entered the pastor's study below, with the words: "Colonel von Vestentrop, of Denmark. The gentleman will excuse me if I interrupt him."

The pastor was so surprised that for a moment he could not collect his wits. Erick's grandfather! There stood the man bodily before him, whose existence had been to him a mere fairy tale, and the man looked so stately and so commanding, that everyone who beheld him must be inspired with respect. But at the same time there was something winning in his expression, which was familiar to the reverend gentleman from Erick's dear face. And this gentleman had traveled so far to fetch his grandson, and Erick had disappeared.

All this pa.s.sed through the pastor's head with lightning speed; he stood for a moment like one paralyzed. But the colonel did not give much time to the surprised man to recover himself. He quickly took the offered easy chair, drew the pastor down on another, looked straight into his eyes and said: "Dear Sir, you sent through the French pastor in Copenhagen a letter addressed to me, in which you inform me of things of which I do not believe one single word."

The surprise of the pastor increased and was reflected in his face.

"Please understand me rightly, dear Sir," the speaker continued, "not that I mean that you would make an incorrect statement; but you yourself have been duped, your kindness has been shamefully misused. Because I knew that, I did not wish to answer your letter in writing, for we would have exchanged many letters uselessly and yet would never have come to an understanding. Behind all this is a clever fellow, who wants to trick you and me for the sake of gain. So I have let everything rest until I could combine the present explanation with a journey to Switzerland. So here I am, and I will tell you, in as few words as possible, the unfortunate story which led to this deception. But let me look at once at the object in question. I want to see what the boy is like, whom the man dares to place before my eyes as my grandson."

The pastor had now to tell of the unfortunate accident of Erick's disappearance, how they had searched so far in vain, but how everything was being done to find the dear boy; therefore he might make his appearance at any moment.

The colonel only smiled a little, but that smile was a little sarcastic and he said: "My good Sir, let us stop the seeking. The boy will not return. The fellow who has placed him in your hands has calculated wrongly this time. He, no doubt, hoped that I, at such a distance, would credulously accept everything that he wanted, and would do what he wished. Now he has found out that I myself was on the way to see you; and to bring before my eyes some foundling as my daughter's child, that he did not dare to do. On that account the child has disappeared, Reverend Sir; that man knows me."

However much the pastor might a.s.sure the colonel that no one had interfered in the case, that the boy, after his mother's death, without anyone's intercession had come into the parsonage, and that from the boy himself, without himself knowing it, had come the suggestions about the country and the name of the grandfather,--all explanation of the pastor did no good, the st.u.r.dy gentleman adhered to his firm opinion that the whole thing was the invented trick of a man who wished to make money, and that the disappearance of the boy at the necessary moment confirmed it.

"But how should, how could the man of whom you speak--"

The colonel did not listen to the end of the sentence. "You do not know this man," he threw in, "you do not know his knavery, Sir! I had a daughter, an only child; I had lost my wife soon after marriage; the child was all in all to me. She was the sunshine of my house, beautiful as few, always joyous, amiable to everyone and full of talents. She had a voice which delighted everyone; it was my joy. I had her instructed in the house, also in music. Then, a young teacher came and settled in the town, near which my estate lies. People talked much about the young musician, and of his artistic skill. He was engaged to teach on all our neighboring estates. I did the same. I had him come to my house every day and had no suspicion of misfortune. After a few months, my daughter, who was hardly eighteen years old, told me that she wanted to marry that man. I answered her that that never would happen; she should never again speak of such a thing. She did not say another word, nor did she complain--that was not her way. I thought all was past and settled, but found it safer to stop the lessons, and I dismissed the instructor. The same evening my daughter asked me, whether I could ever in my life change my opinion. 'Never in my life,' I said, 'that is as sure as my military honor'. The next morning, she had disappeared. A letter left for me told me that she was going away with that man and would become his wife. From that time on,--it is now twelve years ago,--I have never heard anything from my child, till your letter came.

"That my daughter is dead, I can well believe, but that she has left a helpless little boy, that I do not believe, for she would have sent such a boy, of whom she had a right to dispose, to me; she knows me, she would have known that I would give him my name, and the remembrance would be wiped away. But this boy, who has disappeared again at the right time, has been subst.i.tuted by the music-teacher, who no doubt lives somewhere in this neighborhood, and has done it for the purpose of receiving a sum of money from me. And now, dear Sir, we are through. The only thing left for me is to express my regret that, your kindness has been misused through my name; good-bye."

With these words the colonel rose and offered his hand to the pastor.

The latter held it firmly, saying: "Only one more word, Colonel!

Consider one thing: you know your daughter's character. After she had done you the great wrong, she might have decided not to send the boy to you before he in some way could make good the mother's wrongdoing--perhaps not until the time when he would do honor to your name, when he should prove to you through his own character that he was worthy of your name."

"You are a splendid man, who means well with me; but you have not had the experience I have had. You know no distrust, I can see that, and that is why you have been imposed upon. Let us part."

Saying this the colonel again shook the pastor's hand and opened the door. There the lady of the house met him, who for some time with impatience had been walking up and down in the garden, for she was sure that this caller, who stayed so long, was somehow connected with the lost Erick, and she could not understand why her husband did not call her. Sally, from the same expectation and greater impatience, followed her every step. When now the mother had seen from the garden, that the strange gentleman had risen, she could bear it no longer; she must know what was going on. When she stepped on the threshold at the moment when the stranger opened the door, then politeness demanded that the parson introduce his wife, and the stranger from politeness was obliged to step back into the room when the master of the house introduced his wife to him with the words: "Colonel von Vestentrop from Denmark. You indeed will be delighted to hear this name."

The lady stepped toward the colonel with visible delight and said excitedly: "Is it possible? But at what a moment! But you will stay with us, Colonel, for your dear grandchild must be found. The sweet boy cannot be lost, he must have lost his way."

"Pardon me, my gracious lady," the colonel here interrupted her politely, but somewhat stiffly, "I shall start at once. You are under a delusion; I have no grandchild, and I must bid you good-bye."

At mention of the name "Vestentrop", Sally had grown very red; and she trembled all over, during the conversation that followed. Now she restrained herself no longer. Tears poured from her eyes, and with the greatest agitation she sobbed: "Indeed, indeed, he is, I know it, he has told me himself; but I dared not tell it to anyone."

"Well, the boy has found at least one good friend and defender," said the colonel well-pleased, and wanted to pat Sally's cheeks, but she withdrew quickly, for she first wanted to know whether the gentleman would believe and recognize Erick, before she would let him touch her.