Heidi (17 page)

Whereupon he opened the door wide and stepped into the hall.
Just as he did so a sudden gust of air blew through the open
front door and put out the light which John held in his hand. He
started back, almost overturning Sebastian, whom he clutched and
pulled back into the room, and then shutting the door quickly he
turned the key as far as he could make it go. Then he pulled out
his matches and lighted his candle again. Sebastian, in the
suddenness of the affair, did not know exactly what had
happened, for he had not seen the open door or felt the breeze
behind John's broad figure. But now, as he saw the latter in the
light, he gave a cry of alarm, for John was trembling all over
and as white as a ghost. "What's the matter? What did you see,
outside?" asked Sebastian sympathetically.

"The door partly open," gasped John, "and a white figure
standing at the top of the steps—there it stood, and then all in
a minute it disappeared."

Sebastian felt his blood run cold. The two sat down close to one
another and did not dare move again till the morning broke and
the streets began to be alive again. Then they left the room
together, shut the front door, and went upstairs to tell
Fraulein Rottenmeier of their experience. She was quite ready to
receive them, for she had not been able to sleep at all in the
anxiety of waiting to hear their report. They had no sooner given
her details of the night's experience than she sat down and wrote
straight off to Herr Sesemann, who had never received such a
letter before in his life. She could hardly write, she told him,
for her fingers were stiff with fear, and Herr Sesemann must
please arrange to come back at once, for dreadful and
unaccountable things were taking place at home. Then she entered
into particulars of all that had happened, of how the door was
found standing open every morning, and how nobody in the house
now felt sure of their life in this unprotected state of things,
and how it was impossible to tell what terrible results might
follow on these mysterious doings.

Herr Sesemann answered that it was quite impossible for him to
arrange to leave his business and return home at once. He was
very much astonished at this ghost tale, but hoped by this time
the ghost had disappeared. If, however, it still continued to
disturb the household, would Fraulein Rottenmeier write to the
grandmother and ask her if she could come and do something; she,
he was sure, would soon find out a way to deal with the ghost so
that it would not venture again to haunt his house. Fraulein
Rottenmeier was not pleased with the tone of this letter; she
did not think the matter was treated seriously enough. She wrote
off without delay to Frau Sesemann, but got no more satisfactory
reply from that quarter, and some remarks in the letter she
considered were quite offensive. Frau Sesemann wrote that she
did not feel inclined to take the journey again from Holstein to
Frankfurt because Rottenmeier fancied she saw ghosts. There had
never been a ghost in the house since she had known it, and if
there was one now it must be a live one, with which Rottenmeier
ought to be able to deal; if not she had better send for the
watchman to help her.

Fraulein Rottenmeier, however, was determined not to pass any
more days in a state of fear, and she knew the right course to
pursue. She had as yet said nothing to the children of the
ghostly apparitions, for she knew if she did that the children
would not remain alone for a single moment, and that might
entail discomfort for herself. But now she walked straight off
into the study, and there in a low mysterious voice told the two
children everything that had taken place. Clara immediately
screamed out that she could not remain another minute alone, her
father must come home, and Fraulein Rottenmeier must sleep in her
room at night, and Heidi too must not be left by herself, for the
ghost might do something to her. She insisted that they should
all sleep together in one room and keep a light burning all
night, and Tinette had better be in the next room, and Sebastian
and John come upstairs and spend the night in the hall, so that
they might call out and frighten the ghost the instant they saw
it appear on the steps. Clara, in short, grew very excited, and
Fraulein Rottenmeier had great difficulty in quieting her. She
promised to write at once to her father, and to have her bed put
in her room and not to be left alone for a moment. They could
not all sleep in the same room, but if Heidi was frightened, why
Tinette must go into her room. But Heidi was far more frightened
of Tinette than of ghosts, of which the child had never before
heard, so she assured the others she did not mind the ghost, and
would rather be alone at night.

Fraulein Rottenmeier now sat down to write another letter to
Herr Sesemann, stating that these unaccountable things that were
going on in the house had so affected his daughter's delicate
constitution that the worst consequences might be expected.
Epileptic fits and St. Vitus's dance often came on suddenly in
cases like this, and Clara was liable to be attacked by either
if the cause of the general alarm was not removed.

The letter was successful, and two days later Herr Sesemann
stood at his front door and rang the bell in such a manner that
everybody came rushing from all parts of the house and stood
looking affrighted at everybody else, convinced that the ghost
was impudently beginning its evil tricks in daylight. Sebastian
peeped cautiously through a half-closed shutter; as he did so
there came another violent ring at the bell, which it was
impossible to mistake for anything but a very hard pull from a
non-ghostly hand. And Sebastian recognised whose hand it was,
and rushing pell-mell out of the room, fell heels over head
downstairs, but picked himself up at the bottom and flung open
the street door. Herr Sesemann greeted him abruptly and went up
without a moment's delay into his daughter's room. Clara greeted
him with a cry of joy, and seeing her so lively and apparently
as well as ever, his face cleared, and the frown of anxiety
passed gradually away from it as he heard from his daughter's own
lips that she had nothing the matter with her, and moreover was
so delighted to see him that she was quite glad about the ghost,
as it was the cause of bringing him home again.

"And how is the ghost getting on?" he asked, turning to Fraulein
Rottenmeier, with a twinkle of amusement in his eye.

"It is no joke, I assure you," replied that lady. "You will not
laugh yourself to-morrow morning, Herr Sesemann; what is going
on in the house points to some terrible thing that has taken
place in the past and been concealed."

"Well, I know nothing about that," said the master of the house,
"but I must beg you not to bring suspicion on my worthy
ancestors. And now will you kindly call Sebastian into the dining-
room, as I wish to speak to him alone."

Herr Sesemann had been quite aware that Sebastian and Fraulein
Rottenmeier were not on the best of terms, and he had his ideas
about this scare.

"Come here, lad," he said as Sebastian appeared, "and tell me
frankly—have you been playing at ghosts to amuse yourself at
Fraulein Rottenmeier's expense?"

"No, on my honor, sir; pray, do not think it; I am very
uncomfortable about the matter myself," answered Sebastian with
unmistakable truthfulness.

"Well, if that is so, I will show you and John to-morrow morning
how ghosts look in the daylight. You ought to be ashamed of
yourself, Sebastian, a great strong lad like you, to run away
from a ghost! But now go and take a message to my old friend the
doctor; give him my kind regards, and ask him if he will come to
me to-night at nine o'clock without fail; I have come by express
from Paris to consult him. I shall want him to spend the night
here, so bad a case is it; so he will arrange accordingly. You
understand?"

"Yes, sir," replied Sebastian, "I will see to the matter as you
wish." Then Herr Sesemann returned to Clara, and begged her to
have no more fear, as he would soon find out all about the ghost
and put an end to it.

Punctually at nine o'clock, after the children had gone to bed
and Fraulein Rottenmeier had retired, the doctor arrived. He was
a grey-haired man with a fresh face, and two bright, kindly
eyes. He looked anxious as he walked in, but, on catching sight
of his patient, burst out laughing and clapped him on the
shoulder. "Well," he said, "you look pretty bad for a person that
I am to sit up with all night."

"Patience, friend," answered Herr Sesemann, "the one you have to
sit up for will look a good deal worse when we have once caught
him."

"So there is a sick person in the house, and one that has first
to be caught?"

"Much worse than that, doctor! a ghost in the house! My house is
haunted!"

The doctor laughed aloud.

"That's a nice way of showing sympathy, doctor!" continued Herr,
Sesemann. "It's a pity my friend Rottenmeier cannot hear you.
She is firmly convinced that some old member of the family is
wandering about the house doing penance for some awful crime he
committed."

"How did she become acquainted with him?" asked the doctor,
still very much amused.

So Herr Sesemann recounted to him how the front door was nightly
opened by somebody, according to the testimony of the combined
household, and he had therefore provided two loaded revolvers,
so as to be prepared for anything that happened; for either the
whole thing was a joke got up by some friend of the servants,
just to alarm the household while he was away—and in that case
a pistol fired into the air would procure him a wholesome fright—
or else it was a thief, who, by leading everybody at first to
think there was a ghost, made it safe for himself when he came
later to steal, as no one would venture to run out if they heard
him, and in that case too a good weapon would not be amiss.

The two took up their quarters for the night in the same room in
which Sebastian and John had kept watch. A bottle of wine was
placed on the table, for a little refreshment would be welcome
from time to time if the night was to be passed sitting up.
Beside it lay the two revolvers, and two good-sized candles had
also been lighted, for Herr Sesemann was determined not to wait
for ghosts in any half light.

The door was shut close to prevent the light being seen in the
hall outside, which might frighten away the ghost. And now the
two gentlemen sat comfortably back in the arm-chairs and began
talking of all sorts of things, now and then pausing to take a
good draught of wine, and so twelve o'clock struck before they
were aware.

"The ghost has got scent of us and is keeping away to-night,"
said the doctor.

"Wait a bit, it does not generally appear before one o'clock,"
answered his friend.

They started talking again. One o'clock struck. There was not a
sound about the house, nor in the street outside. Suddenly the
doctor lifted his finger.

"Hush! Sesemann, don't you hear something?"

They both listened, and they distinctly heard the bar softly
pushed aside and then the key turned in the lock and the door
opened. Herr Sesemann put out his hand for his revolver.

"You are not afraid, are you?" said the doctor as he stood up.

"It is better to take precautions," whispered Herr Sesemann, and
seizing one of the lights in his other hand, he followed the
doctor, who, armed in like manner with a light and a revolver,
went softly on in front. They stepped into the hall. The
moonlight was shining in through the open door and fell on a
white figure standing motionless in the doorway.

"Who is there?" thundered the doctor in a voice that echoed
through the hall, as the two men advanced with lights and
weapons towards the figure.

It turned and gave a low cry. There in her little white
nightgown stood Heidi, with bare feet, staring with wild eyes at
the lights and the revolvers, and trembling from head to foot
like a leaf in the wind. The two men looked as one another in
surprise.

"Why, I believe it is your little water-carrier, Sesemann," said
the doctor.

"Child, what does this mean?" said Herr Sesemann. "What did you
want? why did you come down here?"

White with terror, and hardly able to make her voice heard,
Heidi answered, "I don't know."

But now the doctor stepped forward. "This is a matter for me to
see to, Sesemann; go back to your chair. I must take the child
upstairs to her bed."

And with that he put down his revolver and gently taking the
child by the hand led her upstairs. "Don't be frightened," he
said as they went up side by side, "it's nothing to be
frightened about; it's all right, only just go quietly."

On reaching Heidi's room the doctor put the candle down on the
table, and taking Heidi up in his arms laid her on the bed and
carefully covered her over. Then he sat down beside her and
waited until Heidi had grown quieter and no longer trembled so
violently. He took her hand and said in a kind, soothing voice,
"There, now you feel better, and now tell me where you were
wanting to go to?"

"I did not want to go anywhere," said Heidi. "I did not know I
went downstairs, but all at once I was there."

"I see, and had you been dreaming, so that you seemed to see and
hear something very distinctly?"

"Yes, I dream every night, and always about the same things. I
think I am back with the grandfather and I hear the sound in the
fir trees outside, and I see the stars shining so brightly, and
then I open the door quickly and run out, and it is all so
beautiful! But when I wake I am still in Frankfurt." And Heidi
struggled as she spoke to keep back the sobs which seemed to
choke her.

"And have you no pain anywhere? no pain in your head or back?"

"No, only a feeling as if there were a great stone weighing on
me here."