On the Heights Part 82

"Out in the woods. I cut down a pine-tree, a splendid one that must have felt my strokes. It did me good. But, first of all, give me something to eat, for I'm hungry."

"He can still eat; thank G.o.d for that," thought Walpurga to herself, while she hurried to fetch the porridge. She sat down beside him, delighting in every spoonful which he took. She had much to tell and to ask about, but she didn't wish to disturb him while he was eating, and when the dish was half empty she held it up for him, so that he could fill his spoon.

"Now tell me," said she, when the dish was emptied, "why did you go out so early and steal away so?"

"Well, I'll tell you. When I awoke, I thought it was all a dream, and when, after that, I found the money, so much of it, I thought I'd go crazy. Hansei, the poor fellow who used to save for months at a time, and felt so happy when he could buy himself a shirt and a pair of shoes, had all at once become rich, and it seemed as if some one were turning me round and round and driving me crazy. Then I felt like waking you up, that we might consider what I'd better do with myself.

But you sleep so soundly that I thought--Pshaw! is your wife to help you? Just you wait, Hansei; I'll show you--and so I got out and took my axe and went up the mountain. Day was just breaking. Although I was quite alone, I felt, all the time, as if there was a great crowd of people after me. Still I went on till I reached the pine. It was marked out to be felled long ago. I threw off my jacket and set to work, and when the chips began to fly, I felt better. Afterward, Wastl came up and helped me, but he kept saying, all the time: 'Hansei, you never worked as you do to-day'; and he spoke the truth. We felled the tree and it came down with a crash. That did me, good, and I felt better and better. We chopped off the branches and did three times as much as we generally do in the same time, and so, little by little, all the foolish notions and giddiness left my head. Now I'm here again and happy, and I'm with you, Walpurga, my old sweetheart. I've been a woodcutter again, in downright earnest, and now I'm to become a farmer--that is, if all goes right."

And it all came to pa.s.s.

The mother had a wonderful way of disappearing when she knew that Hansei and Walpurga had anything to settle between themselves. One could almost have fancied that the cottage was provided with secret doors and subterranean pa.s.sages, so suddenly would she vanish. She would reappear just as suddenly, and no one would know where she had been or how she had returned.

According to her wont, she had disappeared. Walpurga and Hansei searched through the house for her, but found her nowhere. When they returned to the room, she was there.

"Mother, we've good news for you," said Walpurga.

"I see what's best of all, already," she replied, "and that is that your hearts are truly united. I don't care to know any more."

"No, mother, you must know this. Did you ever imagine that you might be mistress of the freehold at which you once were a servant?"

"No, never."

"But now it is so."

Walpurga and Hansei, relieving each other by turns, told her that they had enough money to pay the cash down for the farm, and that the purchase was as good as concluded, because Hansei had obtained the refusal of it for eight days.

Mother Beate could not utter a word in reply. She folded her hands, and her features a.s.sumed an expression of sadness.

"Mother, aren't you pleased at it?" asked Walpurga.

"Not pleased? You'll soon see. But I'm old, my child, and can't jump about, the way you do. Look at the mountains over there. As long as they've been standing there, no one has ever felt happier than I do.

I don't know what the Lord means by giving me so much happiness on earth. He knows what He is doing and I accept it calmly and patiently.

When you came home to us again, I thought my cup of happiness was full, but now I see there's more coming. Well, let what will come, I'm going home again."

The mother was obliged to stop, but Hansei said:

"Yes, mother; you shall see something that you've never seen before in all your life." He went into the room, returned with the sack of gold, and opened it.

"Just look at that!" said he. "How it shines and sparkles. You can hold it all in two hands, and yet there's enough there to buy a farm, with house and fields and forests, and cattle and tools and everything."

"That's a great deal of money," said the mother. She laid her hand on the gold, while her lips moved silently.

"Put your hand into it," urged Hansei. "Oh, how good it feels to stir about in the gold that way."

The grandmother did not comply with his wish, but kept murmuring to herself.

The child in the next room cried, and Hansei called out:

"The freeholder's daughter's awake. Good morning, freeholder's daughter!" said he, while the two women went out to the child. Then he took up the bag of gold, shook it, and said:

"Just listen; you never heard such music before."

The grandmother lifted the child out of the bed and said: "Hansei, just do as I tell you, and put the gold in the warm crib of the innocent child. That'll bless it, and no matter whose hands the gold may have been in, that consecrates it and brings a blessing with it."

"Yes, mother; we can do that." Turning to Walpurga, he added: "Mother always has such pretty notions. You know it'll do the gold good in the warm nest. Yes," said he to the little child, "they've put lots of gold in your cradle. We'll take one piece and have a hole drilled through it, and you shall get it when you become confirmed. Only keep good."

"But now I must go over to Grubersepp's," said he, at last.

Walpurga was obliged to tell that she had already been looking for him there, that morning. She now realized how p.r.o.ne she was to give way to exaggerated fears, and determined to break herself of the habit.

The grandmother, Walpurga and the child were happy together at home, and the mother related that just three months before Walpurga was born, she had been at the farm for the last time, and that was to attend her brother's wedding.

"They can bury me up there," added she. "It's a pity I can't rest beside your father, for the lake never gave him up again. Oh if he'd only lived to see this!"

Our highest joys and our deepest sorrows are closely allied.

Grubersepp came back with Hansei, and was the first to congratulate Walpurga and the grandmother. He advised them, however, to say nothing of the matter until the purchase was legally consummated.

CHAPTER IX.

On Sunday, Hansei, Walpurga, and the mother, went to church together.

The child remained at home with Gundel. They walked along the sh.o.r.e of the lake in silence, thinking of how often they had gone that way in joy and in sorrow, and how they would feel when walking along another path and to another church.

The churchgoers whom they met on the way greeted them coldly, and the grandmother said:

"Don't let us take evil thoughts against others into church with us. We must leave them outside."

"But when one comes out again, they're there all the same, just like the dogs that wait at the church door," replied Walpurga sharply. The mother looked at her and she shook her head, while she said: "Take my word for it, the people are not nearly so bad as they make believe to be. They think it makes them look grander and more important, if they show that they can be angry and spiteful; but let that be as it may, if we can't make others good, we can make ourselves better."

"Give me the umbrella, mother--I can carry it better than you," said Hansei. This was his manner of expressing his a.s.sent.

The innkeeper drove by. Hansei saluted him, but the only answer he heard was the cracking of the whip.

"That's the way," said Hansei. "If he's angry, it's no reason why I should be."

The mother nodded her approval.

Although the service had both edified and satisfied them, it did not prevent Hansei from having a mighty appet.i.te at dinner that day, and he said:

"I think the freeholder can eat more than ever, but I'll see to it that he works right bravely, too."

Hansei was quite merry, but he did not climb the cherry-tree again.

The doctor and his wife paid them a visit that afternoon. Walpurga showed the pretty gifts she had received, and Frau Hedwig was all admiration.