Heimatlos Part 16

"He gives to wind and wave The power to be still; For thee He'll surely save A place to work His will."'

"When Wisi left us that night she was as cheerful as ever, but I could not help feeling that her happiest days were over. Then, too, I feared for Andreas, but he said nothing, although he has never been the same since. For several years he seemed to be far from well, but he did not give up work."

"Poor fellow!" exclaimed Max; "and he never married?"

"Why, no, Max!" said Mrs. Ritter, impatiently, "how could he when he is faithfulness itself?"

"How was I to know that he possessed that virtue also, dear sister? He seems to have them all. How did Wisi get along? I should be sorry to hear that her marriage proved a failure."

"I can plainly see that your sympathy is with her," replied Mrs.

Ritter. "To you, Andreas's fate does not matter so much."

"Not so, sister, but those pretty eyes of hers ought never to have been spoiled with tears. Isn't she happy?"

"I fear not, Max. I have seen but little of her since her marriage.

There was a coa.r.s.eness in her husband's nature that repelled me, and he was always cross to her. Six children were born to them, and all but one, a frail little girl, have died. She is called Wiseli, and is about the size of our Miezchen, although she is three years older. She is the little girl whom Otto defended this evening. Her mother has suffered so much during all these years, that there is little hope of her ever being well again."

"That is too bad," said Max; "we must try to do something for her.

Don't you think that we might help her?"

"I am afraid that it is too late. Wisi was much too delicate for all the work and worry that fell to her lot."

"What is the husband doing?"

"I forgot to tell you, Max. About six months ago he had an arm and a leg badly crushed in the factory, and he died a few weeks after being injured. Since then Wisi has been living alone with her little girl."

"So that is her story," mused Max. "And one child is all that she has left. What would become of her in case Wisi died? It is more likely, though, that the mother will get well, and that Andreas will yet be happy."

"No, I am sure it is too late for that," a.s.serted Mrs. Ritter.

"Although Wisi repented long ago, the wrong could not be undone, and she has suffered in silence. But we are forgetting that we must have some sleep to-night."

Colonel Ritter had fallen asleep in his chair. It was past midnight.

Max roguishly went behind his sleeping brother and shook his shoulders so roughly that the colonel sprang from his chair in alarm. Max laughed and patted his shoulder by way of atonement, saying apologetically, "I only intended to give you a gentle warning that my sister says we must take to our beds."

A few moments later the house stood dark and quiet in the moonlight.

At the foot of the hill was another house where it would soon be quiet also; from a tiny window a small lamp still sent a faint glimmer into the night.

CHAPTER III

ANOTHER HOME

While Otto and Miezi Ritter were going home after the coasting, Wiseli was running down the hill as fast as her little feet could take her; she realized that she was later than usual and was sorry to have kept her mother waiting. The pleasure of her coast gave an added impetus, for she could scarcely wait to tell her mother about it. In her haste she would have run against a man coming from the house, had he not quickly stepped to one side. She found her mother reclining in a chair by the window, and she wondered at it because it was so unusual. She threw her arms about her neck, saying eagerly, "Are you vexed with me, mother, for not coming sooner?"

"Why, no, child; but I am glad that you are here now."

She hastily told her mother about Otto's kindness, and how she had enjoyed two long rides on the prettiest sled in school. "But, mother,"

she added, "what is the matter? Why haven't you a light?"

"You may get the lamp now and bring me a gla.s.s of water. I am so thirsty."

Wiseli went to the kitchen and returned carrying the lamp in one hand and a bottle of fruit juice in the other.

"What are you bringing me?" asked the mother.

"I don't know myself. I found it on the kitchen table. See how it sparkles." The mother drew the cork. "It is raspberry juice, as fragrant as the berries fresh from the garden," she said.

Wiseli poured some of the rich juice into a tumbler and diluted it with water; this the mother drank in long draughts until the tumbler was emptied. "Leave it near me, Wiseli," she said. "It seems as if I could drink it all, I am so thirsty and it is so refres.h.i.+ng. I wonder who was so thoughtful as to bring it to me! It must have come from Mrs. Ritter's and very likely Trina brought it over."

"Trina always comes in when she brings anything. Was she here to-day?"

"No. No one came in."

"Joiner Andreas may have left it when he was here," said Wiseli.

"Wiseli!" exclaimed the mother. "Joiner Andreas has not been here either."

"But I saw him, mother. He came out of the house just as I came in. I nearly ran into him in my hurry. Didn't you hear any one? It seems strange that he should have been so quiet."

"I do remember that I thought the kitchen door opened, and I listened for your footsteps, but you came in a few moments later, so I thought I must have been mistaken. Are you sure that it was Andreas whom you saw?"

Wiseli was certain, but to convince the mother she described him as he invariably looked. "I shouldn't wonder," she added, "if it were he who brought that large jar of honey you liked so much, and also the cakes you found that day. Don't you remember thanking Trina for them when she brought you the hot dinner, and she told you that she knew nothing about them? It must have been Joiner Andreas who did it."

Tears filled the mother's eyes as she said, "I think that probably you are right, Wiseli."

"Surely you are not going to be sorry about it, mother," said Wiseli, as she fondly stroked her mother's hair.

"No, but I want you to thank him for me sometime, Wiseli. I am afraid that I cannot do it myself. Tell him that it did me good; that I was glad he was so kind. Give me a little more, please."

Wiseli prepared the fruit juice and brought a pillow from the bed so that her mother could rest her head on the window seat. She drew a footstool to the window and made her mother comfortable. Then she sat down beside her and said, "It is time for me to say the verses you taught me.

Commit thou all thy ways And all that grieves thy heart To Him whose endless days Can strength and grace impart.

"He gives to wind and wave The power to be still; For thee He'll surely save A place to work His will."

"Remember that, Wiseli," said the mother, drowsily. "If the time ever comes when it seems as if you were not cared for, take comfort and courage from the verses you have just repeated."

The mother's regular breathing soon told Wiseli that she was asleep; but the child remained quietly by her side for fear of waking her.

Thus it happened that she too fell asleep, and the lamp burned on, growing fainter and fainter until it burned itself out and left the house dark in the quiet night.

Early the following morning a neighbor pa.s.sed the window on her way to the well, and, glancing in as usual, she saw Wiseli crying beside the mother, who had her head pillowed on the window seat. She ran to the child, saying, "What is it, Wiseli? I hope your mother is not worse."

Wiseli only sobbed. The neighbor bent over the mother in surprise and alarm. "Go to your uncle quickly, Wiseli," she said; "tell him to come immediately. I will wait here until you get back."