Johanna Spyri - Heidi

She and Clara had to say goodbye quickly, for Mr Sesemann was waiting to put Heidi in the carriage, and Miss Rottenmeier was standing at the top of the stairs to say goodbye too. She saw the funny‐looking red bundle at once, and snatched it out of the basket and threw it on the floor. ‘Really, Adelheid,’ she scolded, ‘you can’t leave this house carrying a thing like that, and you won’t need it any more. Goodbye.’ After that Heidi did not dare to pick it up again, but she gave Mr Sesemann an imploring look.

‘Let the child take what she likes with her,’ he said sharply. ‘If she wanted kittens and tortoises too, there would be no reason to get so excited, Miss Rottenmeier.’

Heidi took up her precious bundle, her eyes shining with gratitude and happiness. ‘Goodbye,’ said Mr Sesemann, shaking hands before she got into the carriage. ‘Clara and I will often think of you. I hope you’ll have a good journey.’

‘Thank you for everything,’ said Heidi, ‘and please thank the doctor too, and give him my love.’ She remembered that the doctor had said that everything would be all right the next day, so she was sure he must have helped to make this come true. She was lifted into the carriage, the basket and a bag of provisions were handed up, then Sebastian got in.

‘Goodbye and a pleasant journey,’ Mr Sesemann called after them, as the carriage drove off.

Soon Heidi was sitting in the train, with the basket on her lap. She would not let go of it for an instant, because of the precious rolls inside. Every now and then she peeped at them and sighed with satisfaction. For a long time she spoke never a word, for she was only beginning to realize that she was really on her way home to Grandfather, and would see the mountains and Peter and Grannie. As she thought about them all, she suddenly grew anxious, and asked, ‘Sebastian, Peter’s Grannie won’t be dead, will she?’

‘Let’s hope not,’ he replied. ‘She’ll be alive all right, I expect.’

Heidi fell silent again, looking forward to the moment when she would actually give the rolls to her kind old friend. Presently she said again, ‘I wish I knew for certain that Grannie’s still alive.’

‘Oh, she’ll be alive all right. Why shouldn’t she be?’ said Sebastian, who was nearly asleep. Soon Heidi’s eyes closed too. She was so tired after her disturbed night and early rising that she dozed off, and slept soundly till Sebastian shook her by the arm, crying, ‘Wake up. We have to get out here. We’re at Basle.’

For several hours more next day they continued their journey by train, and Heidi still sat with the basket on her lap. She would not let Sebastian take it, even for a moment. She was very silent, but inside she grew more and more excited. Then, just when she was least expecting it, she heard a voice calling, ‘Mayenfeld, Mayenfeld.’ She and Sebastian jumped up in surprise, and scrambled out on the platform with the trunk. Then the train went puffing on down the valley and Sebastian looked after it with regret. He preferred travelling comfortably and without effort, and did not look forward to climbing a mountain. He felt sure it would be very dangerous, and the country seemed to him only half‐civilized. He looked about for someone to tell them the safest way to Dörfli, and near the station entrance he noticed a small cart to which a skinny pony was harnessed. A big man was carrying out to it some heavy sacks which had come off the train, and to him Sebastian put his question.

‘All the paths here are safe,’ was the answer. That did not satisfy Sebastian, who went on to ask how they could best avoid falling down precipices, and how to get a trunk up to Dörfli. The man glanced at it, then said, ‘If it’s not too heavy, I’ll take it on my cart. I’m going to Dörfli myself.’

After that it was a short step to persuade him to take Heidi, as well as her trunk, with him and to send her on the last part of the journey up the mountain with someone from the village.

‘I can go alone. I know the way all right from there,’ Heidi put in, after listening attentively to the conversation. Sebastian was delighted at having got out of the climb. He took Heidi to one side and gave her a fat packet and a letter for her grandfather. ‘The packet’s for you, a present from Mr Sesemann,’ he said. ‘Put it at the bottom of the basket and see you don’t lose it. He’d be very angry if you did.’

‘I won’t lose it,’ said Heidi, tucking both letter and packet away. She and her basket were then lifted on to the driver’s seat, while the trunk was placed in the back of the cart. Sebastian felt rather guilty as he knew he was meant to take her all the way home. He shook hands with her and reminded her with warning signs to remember what he had just given her. He was careful not to mention it out loud in the hearing of the driver. Then the man swung himself up beside Heidi, and the cart rolled off towards the mountain, while Sebastian returned to the little station to wait for a train to take him home.

The man on the cart was the baker from Dörfli, who had been to collect some flour. He had never seen Heidi, but like everyone in the village he had heard of her. He had known her parents and realized at once who she was. He was surprised to see her back again and was naturally curious to find out what had happened, so he began to talk to her.

‘You must be the little girl who used to live with Uncle Alp, your grandfather, aren’t you?’ he inquired.

‘Yes,’ said Heidi.

‘Did they treat you badly down there, that you’re coming so soon?’

‘Oh no,’ Heidi cried. ‘Everyone was very kind to me in Frankfurt.’

‘Then why are you coming back?’

‘Mr Sesemann said I could come.’

‘I’d have thought you would rather have stayed if you were so well off there.’

‘I’d a million times rather be with Grandfather on the mountain than anywhere else in the world,’ she told him.

‘Perhaps you’ll change your mind when you get there,’ muttered the baker, thinking to himself, ‘It’s a rum business, but she must know what it’s like.’

He began to whistle then, and said no more. Heidi looked around with growing delight at the mountain peaks she knew so well and which seemed to greet her like old friends. She wanted to jump down from the cart and run the rest of the way, but she managed to sit still, though she was shivering with excitement. They reached Dörfli just as the clock struck five, and there was soon a little crowd of villagers round the cart, curious to find out about the child and the trunk which had come in on it.

The baker lifted Heidi down. ‘Thank you,’ she said hastily. ‘Grandfather will come and fetch the trunk,’ and she turned to run off home at once, but the villagers crowded round her, with a string of questions. She struggled through them, looking so pale and anxious that they murmured among themselves, as they let her go, ‘You can see how frightened she looks, and no wonder,’ and they added, ‘If the poor child had anywhere else in the world to go, she’d never come running back to that old dragon.’ The baker, aware that he was the only person who knew anything on that subject, now spoke up. ‘A gentleman brought her to Mayenfeld and said goodbye to her in a very friendly way, and he gave me what I asked for bringing her up here without any haggling, and something over as well. She has been well treated, wherever she’s been, and has come home of her own accord.’ These little bits of news spread so rapidly that before nightfall every house in the village knew that Heidi had left a good home in Frankfurt to come back, of her own accord, to her grandfather.

As soon as she got away from the people, Heidi rushed uphill as fast as she could go. She had to stop every now and then to get her breath, for her basket was heavy and the mountain slope steep, but she had only one thought: ‘Will Grannie still be sitting in the corner by her spinning‐wheel? Oh, I hope she hasn’t died.’ Then she saw the little house in the hollow, and her heart beat faster than ever. She raced up to the door but could hardly open it, she was trembling so much, but she managed it, and flew into the little room quite out of breath and unable to say a word.