CHAPTER VI
NEW FRIENDS
Early next morning brother and sister started towards the valley. Beforegoing Mrs. Maxa had given her orders and had arranged for Maezli to spendthe day with Apollonie, in order to prevent her from getting intomischief. As it was a sunshiny morning and the paths were dry, walkingwas delightful. The distance they had to traverse occupied about twohours, but it did not seem long. As soon as brother and sister arrivedin Sils, they went to see the two Misses Remke. Both ladies werekneeling before a large trunk, surrounded by heaps of clothes, shoes,books and boxes, and a hundred trifles besides. When the visitorsarrived, they immediately stood before the open door of the room used forpacking.
Mrs. Maxa's first impulse was to withdraw with an excuse, but the ladieshad jumped up already and most cordially greeted their kind friend, MrFalcon, whom they called their helper and saviour in all difficulties.They received his sister joyfully, too, for they had been most eager toknow her. Both ladies regretted that their meeting had to take place ina moment when their house appeared in its most unfavorable light. Mrs.Maxa assured them, however, that she understood the preparations fortheir impending trip and said that she would not disturb them longer thanwas necessary. She intended, therefore, to voice her requestimmediately. Mr. Falcon, steering straight for some chairs he haddiscovered, brought them for the ladies despite all the assorted objectson the floor. Mrs. Maxa spoke of her intention of taking the child toher house and her sincere hope that there would be no objection and theladies could feel their visitor's great eagerness manifested in herwords. They on their part did not hide the great relief which thisprospect gave them and were extremely glad to leave their young charge insuch good hands.
"It has been very hard for us to decide to leave Leonore behind," one ofthem said. "Unfortunately we must go, and she is not able to travel.But as long as our plans seem to coincide so well, I shall ask you if itwould be inconvenient to you if we put off the date of our return a weeklonger. You must realize that we are taking the journey for the sake ofour sick mother, and that everything is uncertain in such a case. Onecan never tell what change may come, and we might wish to stay a littlelonger."
Mrs. Maxa hastened to assure them that nothing could suit her betterthan to keep Leonore in her house for several weeks and she promised tosend frequent news about the little girl's state of health. She beggedthem not to be anxious about her and not to hurry back for Leonore'ssake. As she was longing to see the child instead of remaining in theirway, she begged to be allowed to greet Leonore. She was sure that herbrother, who had already risen, also wanted to take his leave. As soonas he had seen how completely the ladies entered into his sister's plans,he wished to arrange the details and so said that he was now going to thedoctor in order to get his permission for the little trip. Afterobtaining this, as he sincerely hoped to do, he would prepare thecarriage and send it directly to the house, as it was important for thepatient to make the journey during the best portion of the day.Thereupon he hastened off.
One of the ladies took Mrs. Maxa to the sick room, which was situated inthe uppermost story.
"You won't find Leonore alone," she said, "her brother is with her. Heis taking a trip through Switzerland with his teacher and some friends,and came here ahead of them in order to see his sister. His travellingcompanions will join him here to-morrow, and then they are all going backto Germany."
"I fear that the poor boy will lose his day with his sister if I take herwith me," Mrs. Maxa said regretfully.
"Well, that can't be altered," the lady quickly replied. "We are allonly too happy that you are willing to take Leonore into your house. Whoknows how her stay in the hospital might have turned out? Poor Leonorewas so frightened by the thought; but we knew no other way. It does notmatter about her brother's visit, because they can see each other againin Hanover, for he is at a boarding school there."
The lady now opened a door and led Mrs. Maxa into a room.
"Leonore, look, here is Mrs. Bergmann, a great friend of your mother's."Miss Remke said, "and I am sure you will be glad of the news she isbringing you. I shall accept your kind permission to get back to my worknow, Mrs. Bergmann. Everything is ready for Leonore, because she was toleave for the hospital very shortly."
With these words she went out. The sick child sat completely dressed ona bed in the corner of the room, half reclining on the pillows.
Mrs. Maxa had to agree with her brother who had said that she had hermother's large, speaking eyes, the same soft brown curls, and the sameserious expression on her delicately shaped little face. Mrs. Maxawould have easily recognized the child even without knowing her name.Leonore only looked more serious still; in fact, her glance was extremelysad and at that moment tears were hanging on her lashes, for she had beencrying. The boy sitting by her got up and made a bow to the new arrival.He had his father's gay blue eyes and his clear, open brow. After givinghim her hand Mrs. Maxa stepped up to the bed to greet Leonore and was sodeeply moved that she could barely speak.
"My dear child," she said, seizing both slender hands, "you resemble yourmother so much that I have to greet you as my own beloved child. I lovedher very much and we meant a great deal to each other. You remind me ofboth your father and mother, Salo. What happiness my friendship withyour parents has brought me! I want you both to be my children now, foryour parents were the best friends I ever had in the world."
This speech apparently met a response in the two children's hearts. Asanswer Leonore took Mrs. Maxa's hand and held it tight between her own,and Salo came close to her to show what confidence he felt. Then he saidjoyfully: "Oh, I am so glad that you have come; you must help me comfortLeonore. She is terribly afraid of the hospital and all the strangepeople there. She even imagines that she will die there alone andforsaken and was crying because she thinks that we won't see each otheragain. I have to go so far away and I can't help it. To-morrow they arecoming to fetch me and then I have to go back to school. What shall wedo?"
"As to that," Mrs. Maxa replied, "nothing can be done. But if Leonorehas to spend a little while in the hospital, she won't be an absolutestranger there. I won't let you be lonely for I shall often go to seeyou, dear child, and it is not even quite certain that you have to gothere."
"Oh, yes, they are going to take me there this morning, maybe quitesoon," said Leonore. Listening anxiously, she again grasped Mrs. Maxa'shand as if it were her safety anchor.
Mrs. Maxa did not gainsay her, because she did not yet know what thedoctor might decide. All she could do to calm Leonore was to tell herthat she was not dangerously ill. She might recover very quickly if sheonly stayed quiet for a while. In that case she could soon see herbrother again, for the ladies had promised to take her home as soon asshe was well.
Mrs. Maxa had hardly said that when Leonore's eyes again began to fillwith tears.
"But I don't feel at home there. We really have no home anywhere," shesaid with suppressed sobs.
"Yes, it is true; we have no home anywhere," Salo exclaimed passionately."But, Leonore, you must have faith in me!" Fighting against his risingagitation, he quickly wiped away a tear from his eyes, which were usuallyso bright. "It won't be so long till I have finished my studies and thenI can do what I please. Then I shall try to find a little house for usboth, which will be our home. I am going to get that if I have to workfor twenty years in the fields till it is paid for."
Salo's eyes had become sunny again during this speech. He looked as ifhe would not have minded seizing a hoe that very moment.
Rapid steps were now heard approaching, the door was quickly opened, andMiss Remke called out on entering: "The carriage is at the door. Let usget ready, for I do not want the gentleman to wait. I am sure you willbe so kind as to help me lift Leonore out of bed and to carry her downstairs."
Leonore had grown as white as a sheet from fright.
"May I ask if it is my brother's carriage, or--" Mrs. Maxa hesitated alittle.
"Yes, certainly," the lady interrupted, wh
ile she rapidly pulled somecovers and shawls out of a wardrobe. "Your brother has come himself inorder to see that the carriage is well protected. He also means to givethe coachman the directions himself, but we must not keep him waiting.What a kind friend he is!"
Mrs. Maxa had already lifted Leonore from her bed and was carrying herout.
"Please bring all the necessary things downstairs. I can do this easilyalone, for she is as light as a feather," she called back to the lady whohad hastened after her in order to help.
Going downstairs Mrs Maxa said, "Leonore, I am going to take you homewith me now. The doctor is letting me do what I wished: you will staywith me till you are well again, and I shall take care of you. Shall youlike to come with me? We know each other a little already and I hope youwon't feel so strange with us."
Leonore, flinging both arms about Mrs. Maxa's neck, held her so tightthat she could feel the little girl considered her no stranger anylonger.
Suddenly Leonore called back in jubilating tones, "Salo, Salo, did youhear?"
Salo had heard her call but comprehended nothing further. Miss Remke hadpiled such heaps of shawls and covers on his arms that one always sliddown after the other and he was obliged to pick them up again. Asquickly as the circumstances allowed, he ran after his sister.
Arrived at the carriage, Mrs. Maxa immediately looked about for herbrother. She wanted to hand Leonore to him while she prepared everythingin the conveyance for the child's comfort.
He was already there. Understanding his sister's sign, he took the childinto his arms, then lifted her gently into the carriage. His glance wassuddenly arrested by the boy, who was standing beside the carriage withhis burdens.
With the most joyful surprise he exclaimed, "As sure as I am born thismust be a young Salo. It is written in his eyes. Give me your hand,boy. Your father was my friend, my best friend in the world; so we mustbe friends, too."
Salo's eyes expressed more and more surprise. This manner of being takento a hospital seemed very odd to him. The strangest of all, however, wasthat Leonore sat in the corner of the carriage smiling contentedly, forMrs. Maxa had just whispered something into her ear.
"Do we have to say good-bye now, Leonore," Salo asked, jumping up thecarriage step, "and can't I see you any more?"
"Salo," Mrs. Maxa said, "I was just thinking that you could sit besidethe coachman if you want to. You can drive to Nolla with us, for youwill want to see where Leonore is going. I can have you brought backto-morrow in time to meet your friends. Do you approve of that, Philip?"
"Certainly, certainly," the brother answered, "but if that is the plan, Iam going along. I thought at first that this trip would prove a verymournful one. It seems more like a festal-journey to me now, so I'vecome, too. Salo and I will sit high up and to-morrow I promise to bringhim back here."
With shining eyes the boy climbed to the seat which the coachman had justrelinquished. He understood now that the hospital was not to be theirdestination. With many hearty handshakes and good wishes the two Remkeladies at last let their friend and adviser go. After many more lastgreetings to all the party the carriage finally rolled towards thevalley.
Leonore was so exhausted that, leaning against her companion, she fellasleep, but she staunchly held on to Mrs. Maxa's hand, which seemed toher that of a loving mother. It was the first time in her life that shehad felt this.
On the high seat outside the conversation was extremely lively. YoungSalo had to tell where and how he lived, and then his companion explainedin turn the places they were passing through and told him whateverunusual had happened in the neighborhood. The uncle found out thatneither Salo nor his sister had the slightest remembrance of theirparents. The boy's earliest memory went back to an estate in Holsteinwhere they had lived with an elderly great-aunt, his grandmother'ssister. They were about five or six years old when the aunt died, afterwhich they were sent to Hanover to their present abode.
Twice a year a relation of their great-aunt came to see them, but he wassuch a stiff, quiet gentleman that they could not enjoy his visits. Itwas, however, this man who always decided what was to be done with them.For the present they were to remain where they were till Salo hadfinished his studies. After that the choice where to settle was left tothem.
"But I know what I shall do first of all," Salo added with sparklingeyes.
Just then the old castle came in view.
"Oh, what a wonderful castle with great towers!" Salo exclaimed. "It isall closed up; there can't be anybody living there. It doesn't seem tobe in ruins, though. What is it called?"
"This is Castle Wildenstein," the boy's companion curtly answered,throwing a searching glance at the young Baron. The latter lookedinnocently up at the gray towers, remarking that anybody who owned acastle like that would simply be the happiest man in the world.
"He knows nothing about the castle of his ancestors and the whole tragicstory. So much the better," said Uncle Philip to himself.
When the carriage drove up before Mrs. Maxa's door, everything was veryquiet there, for the children were still in school. Kathy came runningtowards them with astonished eyes. She did not know at all what wasgoing on, and that was a novelty for her.
Salo had the reins pressed into his hands before he knew it. With abound his new friend had jumped to the ground and called back, "If youdon't move, the horses will stay quiet, too." Quickly opening thecarriage, he lifted Leonore out and carried her up to the little roomwhich had been got ready for her. Mrs. Maxa followed at his heels. Hethen turned hurriedly back to his young substitute, for he felt a littleuneasy at the thought of what might happen to the horses and carriage.The boy might want to drive about and the horses might begin to jump.But no; stiff and immovable, the boy sat at his post, firmly holding thereins.
Even now when a party of eight feet came running towards him, Salo didnot move. The calls of "Uncle Philip, Uncle Philip!" sounded with morevigor than usual, because the children had not expected him back so soon,and therefore had to celebrate his coming with double energy. UnclePhilip was immediately surrounded, and eight arms held him so tight thatthere was no use in struggling.
"Just look at my young nobleman up there," he said, vainly trying to getfree. "He certainly knows what it means to remain firmly at his post anddo his duty. If he had not held the reins tightly, your wild cries wouldhave driven horses and carriage down the ravine long ago."
All arms suddenly dropped and all eyes were directed towards the figureon the coachman's seat. In the unexpected joy of their uncle's returnnobody had noticed the boy. Uncle Philip, who was free now, let Salo getdown and introduced him to the children.
Salo had a friendly greeting for every one and his eyes sparkled gailywhen he shook their hands. His whole appearance was so attractive andengaging that the children immediately took a liking to him. With livelygestures they surrounded him like an old acquaintance, so that Saloquickly felt that he had come among good friends. Even the reservedBruno, whom nobody had ever been able to approach, linked Salo's armconfidentially in his in order to conduct the guest into the house.
Here Bruno sat down beside Salo and the two were immediately immersed inthe most eager conversation. Mea, Kurt and Lippo were hunting everywherefor their mother, for they had not the faintest idea where she had gone.
When Uncle Philip came back, he called them together and told them wheretheir mother was and what she wished them to know through him. As shehad brought a sick child with her, she could have no intercourse with thechildren for two or three days. The doctor had also forbidden them to goup to the sick-room, and they were to do the best they could during thattime. If the sickness should get worse, a nurse was to come to the houseand then the mother would be free again. If the illness was to beslight, on the contrary, the children would be admitted to the sick-roomand make Leonore's acquaintance. They could even help a little in hercare, for the mother would not then be obliged to keep them apart. Maezliwas to be sent to Apollonie every morning and was to spend the day there.Not to be
able to have a glimpse of their mother for two or three dayswas depressing news indeed. The three children's faces were absolutelydisconcerted, for the obstacles were clearly insurmountable.
"Well, is this so terrible?" Uncle Philip said cheerily. "Who needs tolet his wings droop? Just think if you were in the place of the sickgirl, who has no mother at all! Can't you let her have yours for a fewdays? No? Just think what is to follow. Your mother will come down thenand bring you a new playmate. Leonore is friendly and charming and hassweeter manners than you have ever seen. Kurt is sure to make dozens ofsongs about her and Mea will be carried away with enthusiasm for her.Lippo will find an affectionate protectress in her who will be able toappreciate his little-recognized virtues. Are you satisfied now?"
This speech really had splendid results. All three were willing enoughnow to let the sick Leonore have their mother, and they were anxiousbesides to do everything in their power to make Leonore's recoveryspeedy. The uncle's description of the new playmate had wakened such alively sympathy in them that they were ready to assist him in many ways,and he was even obliged to cool their zeal. As their guest was to remainsuch a short while, Uncle Philip suggested a walk in order to show himthe surroundings, but when they looked around for Salo, they could notfind either him or Bruno.
"They thought of the same thing," Uncle Philip said. "It will be greatfun to hunt for them." So they started off.
Uncle Philip had guessed right. Bruno had found his new friend so muchto his liking that he wanted to keep him entirely to himself. While theuncle had talked with the younger children, he had led Salo out to takehim on a stroll in the beautiful sunset. Salo was perfectly satisfied,too, as he felt himself likewise drawn towards Bruno. In this short timethe two boys had grown as confiding as if they had known each other foryears and they were just then wandering towards the castle hill, absorbedin lively conversation.
"Can you guess why I am taking you up there?" Bruno suddenly asked,interrupting the talk.
"Because it is so lovely," Salo replied quickly.
He had stopped walking and was looking across the flowering meadowstowards the castle over which rosy clouds were floating on the brightevening sky.
"No, not for that reason," said Bruno, "but because it belongs to anuncle of yours."
Salo looked at him, full of astonishment.
"But Bruno, what an idea!" he called out laughing. "That would not be sobad, but it can't be true. We only have one uncle, who has been livingin Spain for a number of years and who expects to stay there."
"The castle belongs to just that uncle who lives in Spain," Brunoasserted.
He reminded Salo of the fact that their mothers had known each otherwhile living in the castle and had grown to be such friends there. Saloadmitted this but was firmly persuaded that the castle had long sincebeen sold and that his uncle would never come back, he had heard thatfrom his great-aunt. So Bruno had to agree with him that the castle hadprobably been sold, if the uncle did not think of returning.
"Do you know, Salo," said Bruno while they continued their walk, "Ishould love to do what your uncle did. I want to go away from here anddisappear for a long time. Then I would not be obliged to be fettered tothose two horrid boys. I can't stand it, and you now know yourself whatthey are like."
Bruno had described his two comrades to his new friend, their meanattitude and their frequent and contemptible tricks. Salo had repeatedlyshown his feeling by sudden exclamations and he said now with comfortingsympathy, "I am sure it must make you feel like running away if you areobliged to spend all your days with two such boys. But don't listen tothem, pay no attention to them, and let them do and say what they please.If they want to be mean, let them be, for they can't make you different."
"Oh, if you could be with me, that would be much easier," Bruno said. "Ishould know then that you felt with me and shared my anger. When I amcompelled to be alone with them and they do sneaky acts to people whocan't defend themselves, I always get so mad that I have to beat them.That always brings nasty talk and makes my mother unhappy, and then Ifeel worse than ever. If only I could go far away and never have to meetthem any more!"
"If you had an idea what it is like not to have any home at all, youwould not wish to leave yours without even knowing where to go," saidSalo. "You would not think that anything was too hard to bear if youcould go home and tell your mother all about it. If you have thatconsolation, it should make you able to stand a lot of trouble. Ishouldn't mind living with those two during school term, if I could go toa place during the holidays that were a real home for me and Leonore.Every time I come to her she cries about having no home in the whole wideworld. I try to think out something so that we won't have to wait solong before we can live together. But that is hard to carry out, for thegentleman in Holstein who decides about our upbringing wants me to studyfor many years. That will take much too long. Leonore might even diebefore that, and I want to do it all for her. I am so glad now thatLeonore has fallen ill and has therefore come to you," he said with abrighter glance. "I wish she would stay sick for a while--of course notawfully sick," he corrected himself rapidly, "I mean just sick enough sothat your mother would not let her go. I know quite well how happyLeonore will be with her. She was so kind and friendly with us rightaway. Since our old aunt died nobody has been so good and sweet with usas your mother and that will do more good to Leonore than anything elseon earth."
Salo's words made a deep impression on Bruno. He had never beforerealized that everyone did not have a lovely home like his, and a motherbesides who was always ready to greet him affectionately, who could betold everything, could help him bear everything, who shared all hisexperiences and had a sympathy like no one else. All this he hadaccepted as if it could not be otherwise. Now came the realization thatthings might be different. Poor Salo and his sister, for instance, hadto suffer bitterly from missing what he had always enjoyed to the fullwithout thinking about it. He was seized with a sudden sympathy for hisnew friend, who looked so refined and charming, and who already had tobear such sorrow for himself and his sister. Bruno now flung behind himall the thoughts and schemes he had had in connection with his comingfate and with all the fire of his nature he fastened on the thought ofdoing everything in his power to help Salo. He wanted to further hisfriend's plan to found a home for himself and his sister as soon aspossible. That was something much more important than his disinclinationto DC with the Knippel boys.
"Now I shall not think about anything but what you can do to make yourplan come true," he said at the conclusion of his meditation. "If thereare two of us who are so set on finding a way we are sure to succeedsomehow."
"It seems so wonderful to me," said Salo, quite overcome by Bruno's warmsympathy. "I have various friends in boarding school, but there isn'tone to whom I could have told what I am always thinking about, as I havetold you. You are so different from them. Will you be my friend?"
Bruno firmly grasped Salo's proffered hand and cried out with beamingeyes, "Yes, Salo, I will be your friend my whole life long. I wish Icould do you a favor, too, as you have done me."
"But I have not done anything for you," Salo said with surprise.
"Oh, yes, you have. Now that I know I have a friend I have lost my dreadof living with the Knippel boys. I know that I can let them do as theyplease, for I'll know that I have a friend who thinks as I do and wouldhave the same feeling about their actions, I'll be able to tell youeverything, and you will tell me what you think. I can let them aloneand think of you."
"Do you know, Bruno, the way I feel a real friendship ought to be?" Salosaid with glowing eyes, for this had made him happy, too. "I think itought to be this way: if we have to hear of anything that is ugly, meanor rough, we ought to think right away: I have a friend who would neverdo such a thing. If we hear of something though that pleases us, becauseit is fine, noble and great, we should think again: My friend would dothe same. Don't you agree with me?"
Bruno judged himself very severely, because his mother had hel
d up hisown faults to him so that he knew them very well. He repliedhesitatingly, "I wish one could always be the way one wants to be. Wouldyou give up trusting a friend right away if he did not act the way youexpected him to?"
"No, no," Salo said quickly, "such a friend could not trust me any moreeither. I mean it differently. The friend ought to hate to do wrong andought to want to do right. He ought to be most sorry if he did not comeup to the best."
Bruno could now gladly and joyfully assent. Suddenly the two boys heardtheir names called out loudly. Turning round they saw Kurt and Lippohurrying towards them and the uncle following with Mea at a slower pace.
"Wait, wait!" Kurt cried out so loudly that the echo sounded back againfrom the castle, "Wait, wait!"
The two friends were doing just what had been asked of them, for theywere sitting quietly on the turf. The brothers had now reached them, andMea soon followed with the uncle, whose face showed signs ofperturbation.
"I hope you have not run up to the castle with Salo, Bruno," he cried outwith agitation.
"Oh, no, uncle," Bruno replied, "we sat down here on the way up. I justwanted to show Salo the castle that belonged to his uncle, but he doesnot know anything about it. He thinks that it has been sold long agobecause he never heard about it."
"Good!" said Uncle Philip with satisfaction. "Now let us quickly gohome. It is not right to starve a guest on his first visit; he mightnever come again."
"Oh, I certainly shall, Mr.--," here Salo hesitated, "I do not rememberthe name," he added, quite concerned.
"My name here is Uncle Philip," the kind gentleman answered, "just UnclePhilip, nothing else!"
"Am I allowed to call you Uncle, too? That makes me feel so much athome!" Salo exclaimed after nodding cordially. "Well, Uncle Philip, Imean to come to you again with the keenest pleasure every time I aminvited. I would even come with the greatest joy if you never gave meanything to eat."
"No, no, we don't have institutions for starving people," Uncle Philipreplied. "We are returning home now to a little feast I have told Kathyto get ready. It will consist mostly of country dishes. Our guest mustknow he has been received by friends."
"Oh, Uncle Philip, I felt that the first moment I met you," Saloexclaimed.
The little group now strolled happily down the incline towards the house.
Maezli was standing in the doorway with eyes as big as saucers. She hadreceived the news from Kathy that they were to have omeletteapple-souffle, ham-pudding, sour milk and sweet biscuits for supper inhonour of a charming guest and Uncle Philip, who had come back. So Maezlilooked out at them, and as soon as they were near enough, studied Salovery carefully.
He must have pleased her, for she quickly ran towards him and, reachingout her hand, said, "Won't you stay with us for a while?"
Salo laughed: "Yes, I should love to."
Taking him by the hand, Maezli led him into the house and to the roomwhere the inviting table was already set. Kathy had been so many yearsin the house that she knew exactly how things ought to be. Everyone satdown now and Uncle Philip was amusingly talking. Everything he hadordered for the meal tasted so delightfully that it seemed like a feastto them and Salo said, "I should never have been able to conceive such awonderful end of my holidays, if I had imagined the most marvellous thingin the world."
"If Salo could only stay here a few days, if only _one_ day more," Brunourged. All the rest were of the same opinion and they loudly beggedUncle Philip to persuade him to spend the next day with them. Theythought that even one day together would be perfect for everyone.
"Yes, and for me most of all," said Salo, "but I cannot. My teacher andcomrades are coming to fetch me at Sils to-morrow at ten o'clock. Thisis absolutely settled and there is not the slightest chance for mystaying here, even if I wished it more than anything in the world."
"That is right, Salo, that is the way to talk," Uncle Philip said. "Whathas to be, has to be, even if we don't like it. Please do not beg himany more to stay. Let us play a nice game now and let us enjoy ourselveswhile he is with us."
Uncle Philip soon started the game, and their merry mood returned withthe fun.
At the exact time when their mother always called the little ones for bedLippo cried, "Uncle Philip, we must sing the evening song now and afterthat Maezli and I must go to bed."
This did not suit Maezli at all, however, for she was full of the gamejust then. Salo, who was sitting beside her, had been so funny, that itsuited her better to stay here than to go to bed, Quickly climbing up theuncle's chair from behind, she put both round arms caressingly about hisneck and whispered in his ear, "Oh, darling Uncle Philip, to-day is afeast-day, isn't it? Can't we stay up a little longer? The game is suchfun and it's so tiresome to go to bed."
"Yes, yes, it is a feast-day," the uncle assented; "the little ones canstay up a little longer. Let us all keep on playing."
Maezli joyfully skipped back to her place, and the merriment was resumed.The game, which was very amusing, was made more so by Uncle Philip'sfunny remarks. Nobody had noticed therefore how quiet Maezli had grown.
Salo suddenly remarked, "Oh, look! Maezli is sound asleep. She is nearlytumbling from her chair." And the little girl would have dropped had notSalo held her by quickly putting his arm about her.
Uncle Philip went to her.
"Come, Maezli, come," he said encouragingly, "open your eyes quickly andMea will take you to bed."
"No, no," Maezli lamented, and would not move.
"But you must! Just look, we are all going," the uncle said vigorously."Do you want to stay behind?"
"No, no, no," Maezli moaned, full of misery.
"Mea, give her some cake," the uncle ordered, "then she'll wake up."
"We have no cake, uncle," Mea replied.
"What, you don't have a thing so necessary as that in a house full ofchildren! Well, I shall get some to-morrow," he said, quite agitated."Do you want a candy, Maezli? Come, just taste how sweet it is."
"No, no, no," Maezli moaned again in such sorrowful tones as no one hadever heard from the energetic little child.
Suddenly a most disturbing thought shot through the uncle's brain:"Suppose the child has already caught the fever? What should I do? Whatought one to do?" he cried out with growing anxiety.
Kathy had entered the room in the meantime to see if anything more wasneeded.
"That is the way, Mr. Falcon," she said, going up to Maezli, and quicklylifting her in her strong arms, she carried her upstairs. Despite allher lamenting the child was then undressed and put to bed. In theshortest time she was sound asleep again without a trace of fever.
"Well, that's over now," Uncle Philip said, quite relieved when Kathycame back with the news. "I really think that the time has come for usall to seek our beds. Lippo actually looks as if he could not stand onhis little legs."
The boy was as white as chalk from staying up so late. From time to timehe tried to open his eyes, but they always fell shut again. The uncle,taking his hand, wanted to lead him away, but he fought against it.
"Uncle Philip, we have not sung the evening song yet," he said, clutchingthe piano.
"Mercy!" the uncle cried out disturbed. "Is this going to start now? No,no, Lippo, it is much too late to-night. You can sing two songsto-morrow, then everything will be straightened out."
"Then we shall have sung two songs to-morrow, but none to-day," Lippobegan in a complaining voice, holding on to the piano and pulling hisuncle towards him.
"Nothing can be done, we have to do it," Uncle Philip said withresignation, for he knew the obstinacy of his godson in regard to allcustoms.
"Kurt, you can tell me about the songs; please find the shortest in thesong-book, or we shall have to sing till to-morrow morning. Please spareus such a miserable scene. But wait, Kurt! The song must have a tune Ican sing, for as nobody plays the piano, I have to set the tune. Do youwant to sing with us, too, Salo, or is it too late for you? You canretire if you prefer. You go upstairs to the room at the righ
t corner."
"Oh, no, I want to stay as long as anybody is left," Salo replied. "Ishall enjoy singing and doing everything with you. It is all so funnyand strange."
Kurt had chosen a suitable song and Uncle Philip began it so vigorouslythat everybody could join and a full-voiced chorus was formed. Lippo'svoice sounded dreadfully weak, but he sang every note to the last word,fighting mightily against his growing sleepiness. Now the little companycould wander upstairs to their respective rooms without further obstacle.
"Oh," Uncle Philip breathed relieved when they had reached the top. "Atleast we are as far as this. It really is an undertaking to keep inorder a handful of children where one always differs from the last. NowI have luckily gotten through for today. What? Not yet? What is thematter, Bruno?"
The latter, approaching his uncle with clear signs that he wanted him forsomething, had pulled him aside.
"I want to ask you for something," said Bruno. "I wonder if you will dome a great favor, Uncle Philip. Salo and I have so much to talk aboutstill and he must leave to-morrow, I wanted to ask you if Kurt can sleepbeside you in the guest room and Salo could sleep in Kurt's bed in myroom."
"What are you thinking of," the uncle said irritably. "You should hearwhat your mother would say to that. The idea of having a Wallerstaettenfor a guest and offering him a bed which has been used already. Thatwould seem a real crime in her eyes. That can't be; no, it mustn't. Ihope you can see it, too, don't you?"
"Yes," Bruno said, much depressed, for he had to agree. But Uncle couldnot stand such downcast spirits.
"Listen, Bruno," he said, "you realize that we can't do it that way. Butan uncle knows how to arrange things and that is why he is here. This isthe way we'll do. I'll sleep in your bed, and Salo and you can sleep inthe guest-room. Will that suit?"
"Oh, thank you, Uncle Philip! There is no other uncle like you," Brunocried out in his enthusiasm.
So Uncle Philip's last difficulty was solved for to-day and everybody waswilling to go to bed. Soon the house lay in deep quiet: even the sickchild in the highest story lay calmly sleeping on her cool pillows. Shedid not even notice when Mrs. Maxa stepped up once more to her bedsidewith a little lamp. Before herself retiring she wanted to listen oncemore to the child's breathing. Only the two new friends were stilltalking long after midnight.
They understood each other so thoroughly and upon all points that Brunohad proposed in his enthusiasm that they would not waste one minute ofthe night in sleep. Salo expressed his wish over and over again thatBruno might become his comrade in the boarding school. But finallyvictorious sleep stole unperceived over the two lads and quietly closedtheir eyes.