Johanna Spyri - Heidi

Mr Sesemann was greatly upset. ‘If that’s how things are, doctor, of course I’ll do as you say,’ he promised.

When at last the doctor took his leave, it was the light of dawn which flooded through the front door.

Mr Sesemann went upstairs feeling both anxious and annoyed, and he knocked loudly on Miss Rotten‐meier’s door. She awoke with a start to hear him say, ‘Please get up quickly and come to the dining‐room. We have to make preparations for a journey.’ She looked at her clock: its hands pointed to only half past four. She had never got up so early in her life. What could have happened? She was in such a state of curiosity and excitement that she hardly knew what she was doing, and kept looking for garments which she had already put on.

Mr Sesemann then went along the passage and pulled vigorously at the bells which communicated with the rooms where the servants slept. Sebastian, John, and Tinette all leapt out of bed and threw on their clothes just any how, thinking the ghost must have attacked their master and that he was calling for help. They sped to the dining‐room one after the other, all rather dishevelled, and were taken aback to find Mr Sesemann looking as brisk and cheerful as usual, and not at all as though he had seen a ghost. John was dispatched to fetch the carriage and horses at once, Tinette to waken Heidi and get her ready for a journey. Sebastian was sent to fetch Detie from the house where she worked.

Meanwhile Miss Rottenmeier completed her toilet, though she had put on her cap the wrong way round, so that from a distance it looked as though she were walking backwards, but Mr Sesemann rightly attributed this to her having been disturbed so early. He wasted no time on explanations, but told her to find a trunk immediately, and pack all Heidi’s belongings in it. ‘Put some of Clara’s things in as well,’ he added. ‘The child must be well provided for. Hurry, now, there’s no time to lose.’

Miss Rottenmeier was so astonished that she just stood and stared at him. She had been expecting him to tell her some terrible story about the ghost (which she would not have minded hearing by daylight). Instead she was met with these extremely businesslike (if rather inconvenient) orders. She could not understand it, and simply waited blankly for some sort of explanation. But Mr Sesemann left her, without saying anything further, and went to Clara’s bedroom. As he expected, she had been awakened by all the commotion and was most anxious to know what had happened, so he sat down at her bedside and told her the whole story, ending up, ‘Dr Classen is afraid Heidi’s health has suffered, and says she might even go up on the roof in her sleep. You can understand how dangerous that would be. So I’ve made up my mind that she must go home at once. We can’t risk anything happening to her, can we?’

Clara was very distressed at this news and tried hard to make her father change his mind, but he stood firm, only promising that if she was sensible and did not make a fuss, he would take her to Switzerland the following year. Then, seeing there were no two ways about it, she gave in, but she begged that, as a small consolation, Heidi’s trunk should be brought to her room to be packed, so that she could put in some nice things which Heidi would like. To this her father willingly agreed.

By this time Detie had arrived and was wondering uneasily why she had been sent for at such an unearthly hour. Mr Sesemann repeated to her what he had learnt about Heidi’s condition. ‘I want you to take her home at once, this very day,’ he said. Detie was very upset, remembering how Uncle Alp had told her never to show her face again upon the mountain. To have to take Heidi back to him like this, after the way she had carried her off, was asking too much of her.

‘Please do excuse me,’ she said glibly, ‘but it is not possible for me to go today, nor yet tomorrow. We’re very busy, and I really couldn’t even ask for the day off just now. Indeed, I don’t quite know when I could manage it.’

Mr Sesemann saw through her excuses, and sent her away without another word. He told Sebastian instead to prepare himself at once for a journey.

‘You’ll take the child as far as Basle today,’ he said, ‘and go on with her to her home tomorrow. I’ll give you a letter for her grandfather so there will be no need for you to explain anything and you can come straight back here. When you get to Basle, go to the hotel whose name I’ve written on this visiting card. I’m well known there, and when you show it you’ll be given a good room for the child, and they’ll find a room for you too. And now listen to me,’ he went on, ‘this is very important. You must make sure all the windows in her room are shut securely so that she can’t open them. Then, once she’s in bed, you are to lock her bedroom door on the outside for she walks in her sleep, and in a strange house it might be very dangerous if she wandered downstairs and tried to open the front door. Do you understand?’

‘So that’s what it was,’ exclaimed Sebastian, as the truth suddenly dawned upon him.

‘Yes, that was it. You’re a great coward and you can tell John he’s another. You made fine fools of yourselves, all of you!’ And with that Mr Sesemann went to his study to write to Uncle Alp. Somewhat shamefaced, Sebastian muttered to himself, ‘I wish I hadn’t let that idiot of a John push me back into the room, when he saw the figure in white! If only I’d gone after it. I certainly would if I saw it now.’ But of course by that time the sun was lighting up every corner of the room.

Meanwhile Heidi was waiting in her bedroom, dressed in her Sunday frock and wondering what was going to happen. Tinette considered her so far beneath her notice that she never threw her two words where one would do, and she had simply wakened her, told her to dress, and had taken her clothes out of the wardrobe.

When Mr Sesemann came back to the dining‐room with his letter, breakfast was on the table. ‘Where’s the child?’ he asked, and Heidi was at once fetched, and came in, giving him her usual ‘Good morning.’

‘Well, child, is that all you have to say?’ he inquired.

She looked at him questioningly.

‘I do believe nobody’s told you,’ he said with a smile. ‘You’re going home today.’

‘Home,’ she gasped, so overwhelmed that for the moment she could hardly breathe.

‘Well? Aren’t you pleased?’

‘Oh yes, I am,’ she said fervently, and the colour came into her cheeks.

‘That’s right. Now you must eat a good breakfast,’ and he took his place at the table and signed to her to join him. She tried hard but couldn’t swallow even a morsel of bread. She was not sure whether she was awake or still dreaming, and might not find herself presently standing at the front door again in her nightgown.

‘Tell Sebastian to take plenty of food with him,’ Mr Sesemann said to Miss Rottenmeier, as that lady came into the room. ‘The child is not eating anything at all — and that is not to be wondered at.’ He turned to Heidi. ‘Now go to Clara, my child, and stay with her until the carriage arrives.’ That was just what Heidi wanted to do, and she found Clara with a big trunk open beside her.

‘Come and look at the things I’ve had put in for you,’ Clara cried. ‘I hope you’ll like them. Look, there are frocks and aprons and hankies and some sewing things. Oh, and this!’ Clara held up a basket. Heidi peeped and jumped for joy, for inside were twelve beautiful rolls for Grannie. In their delight the children quite forgot that they were so soon to part, and when they heard someone call, ‘The carriage is here,’ there was no time to be sad. Heidi ran to the room which had been hers, to fetch the book which Grandmamma had given her. She always kept it under her pillow, for she could never bear to be parted from it, so she felt sure no one would have packed it. She put it in the basket. Then she looked in the cupboard and fetched out her precious old hat. Her red scarf was there too, for Miss Rottenmeier had not thought it worth putting in the trunk. Heidi wrapped it round her other treasure and put it on top of the basket where it was very conspicuous. Then she put on a pretty little hat which she had been given, and left the room.