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"No; the melody belongs entirely to this one. I did not find it until after I got your words from grandfather," answered Vinzi innocently, looking up into his questioner's face with his large, honest eyes.
"Will you sing all the verses again for me? And I want your accompaniment too."
Highly pleased, the three boys repeated it.
"Good!" exclaimed Father Silvanus. "Now you shall hear how my harmonium plays it. I wonder if you will like it."
He went up to the tall organ in the corner, opened it and started to play. Vinzi listened with bated breath. What wonderfully touching notes they were!
Was it possible? It sounded so familiar! Yes, that was his own melody, and the accompaniment of the shawm with it. But how deep and how full! Even after the notes had died away, Vinzi stood in silent ecstasy.
Father Silvanus looked at him with a smile and asked pleasantly, "Should it sound like that, my boy? Was it correctly played?"
"Oh, it was much more beautiful than ours!" exclaimed Vinzi, still overpowered.
"But it was your song, my lad; I added but little to it," said the priest in kindest accents. "Come up closer; did you never hear this kind of instrument?"
"No," answered Vinzi as he stepped up and examined the harmonium closely, "but I have heard a piano."
The priest questioned him further, so Vinzi told about the few music lessons he had enjoyed with Alida.
The priest smiled sympathetically and, stroking the boy's curly black hair, he asked, "My lad, would it give you pleasure to learn to play my instrument?"
In his intense happiness Vinzi could not be sure he had heard aright, so just looked mutely up at the priest with flashing eyes.
"You mean to say yes?"
"A thousand times yes!" Vinzi exclaimed.
"Good! Ask your Cousin Lorenz what he has to say about it and bring me the answer tomorrow morning. If he has no objection, we can play a little every morning."
Shaking hands with each boy and saying a kind word to him, Father Silvanus opened the door. Once outside, the trio went merrily down the mountain, but Vinzi moved along as though in a dream and left the lively conversation to Jos and Vereli. He could hear nothing but the kind words of Father Silvanus: "Would it give you pleasure to learn to play my instrument?" Give pleasure? It would be happiness beyond his conception.
Vereli had said good-bye and turned off to the Tower without Vinzi noticing it, and the two boys were soon home. At the supper table Jos recounted everything that had happened and told how kind Father Silvanus had been and his plan for Vinzi, if his father consented.
"Of course," said the latter. "I am very pleased if Vinzi can learn something beautiful."
So early the next morning Vinzi went up to Father Silvanus and with a radiant face informed him of his cousin's verdict.
"Then we will start at once," said the priest and led the way to the great room and organ.
This lesson was quite different from those Alida had given, and the teacher had as little idea of the flight of time as the pupil. One hour, then a second was gone when the ringing of a bell reminded the priest of the time. He quickly closed his instrument, shook Vinzi's hand and said, "We will continue tomorrow. Come as early as you did today."
Vinzi departed so full of his good fortune that he had to run to the grandfather at once to tell him of all the unexpected and unbelievable things which had happened.
Each day now grew more lovely for Vinzi. The further Father Silvanus took him in his art, the greater his desire to proceed. When the priest had to leave Vinzi, he permitted his pupil to remain at the organ to practise, and there he would sit for hours. He was never disturbed by any sound in the silent house and time passed unnoticed.
When the sun's rays gleamed at a certain angle above the organ, he knew evening was near, and then he closed the instrument and slipped quietly through the passage and out to the road. This left him just sufficient time for a visit to grandfather, and then a quick run down to his cousins and their comrades, where his coming always created jubilation. Ear splitting noises always followed his arrival, for every owner of a pipe wanted Vinzi to hear what he had learned to play. Vinzi could not help wondering how the number of pipes had increased so during the time he had not been coming to the pasture. Had the boys discovered how to make them, or where did they get them?
His bargain with Russli was not forgotten. The little fellow was at his side every morning as they started out and every evening as they returned, he claimed his new pipe.
"Russli, you have pipes enough now," remarked Vinzi one day as he wandered along behind the cows with his little comrade on the homeward way. "By this time you should have learned not to worry the cows without always expecting a pipe as a reward."
"And so I have," assented Russli, "and, besides, I have so much to do."
Vinzi was surprised at this statement for he had been so mischievous only because he had much idle time on his hands. So he inquired, "What have you to do?"
"I will show you, but no one else must know," answered Russli mysteriously, and he led Vinzi off the road over to the old larches.
"Tell me one other thing," Vinzi began again. "Have you piled the pipes in a heap, or have you given them away to the herd boys who have none? So many of them have good pipes now, not like those they would carve for themselves."
"I have given away no pipes," replied Russli in a tone of resentment, for he was hurt that Vinzi should question his good sense. "You can see for yourself."
As he spoke the words Russli bent over and lifted up several pieces of moss-covered earth which had been so cleverly packed together the ground had looked untouched. Laying them carefully to one side, he scraped away the loose earth beneath and disclosed a large hole. He turned back a strong paper which had been folded as a cover, allowing Vinzi to look inside, and there he saw a collection of all kinds of objects: a pile of nuts, some prunes, boxes of matches, colored marbles, old knives and tobacco boxes, a little pump, a leather purse, and a brass watch chain.
"What is this, Russli? To whom do these things belong?" asked Vinzi in astonishment.
"To me. I exchanged each piece with the boys for a pipe. Now do you see?" And Russli looked quite proudly at his stock-in-trade.
"But what are you going to do with all this?" asked the bewildered Vinzi.
"Keep it until I exchange it for something better. You know the pipes are only wood," said Russli confidentially.
Vinzi laughed and said, "You must become a merchant, Russli, for you seem to understand all about trade. But now you won't have anything more to do, because our bargain is ended."
"Oh, yes, I'll have much to do every day," said Russli importantly. "Every morning I have to open the hole and clear away the earth to count over my things to see that nothing has been stolen in the night. Then it all has to be packed again and covered over and the moss firmly set so no one will notice the place. In the afternoon I have to sit close by and watch so no one discovers it and starts digging."
Vinzi did not have any trading instinct and so the enthusiasm that urged Russli to such constant efforts to guard his treasures was beyond his understanding. However, he was well satisfied that these new activities took up the little chap's time. At least he left the cows in peace and did it without the prospect of new pipes.
The month of August passed and the first autumn mists descended upon the mountains. Several times messages had come up from Leuk that it would soon be time for Vinzi to return home; they had imposed long enough on the kindness of their relatives. Would their cousin take the first opportunity of sending the boy home with some one? Each time word was sent back to Leuk that the summer was not over, that no one wanted to let Vinzi go, that he was well and happy. Wouldn't his parents permit him to stay a little longer on the mountain?
One day toward evening Father Lorenz entered the house and found his wife preparing supper in her usual easy way. He seated himself in a chair for he had no special work to do until the boys returned with the cattle. For a while he sat deep in thought, then asked, "Have you noticed, Josepha, how Vinzi has changed?"
"How so?" she inquired.
"With one bound, he seems to have grown a whole year older, perhaps two," explained Lorenz. "And this has happened since he has been spending most of his time with Father Silvanus. I notice it in everything he does: the way he plays, sings, and talks. It is as though he had stepped from shadow into sunshine."
"I don't quite understand what you mean," replied his wife, "but I have always said Vinzi looks as fresh and trim as a young apple tree. And now I will say this: If Vinzi were a beggar-boy, I'd adopt him and love him as much as my other three. I can say that truthfully."
"Yes, you can say that," responded her husband with a smile. "But, you know, if the lad were a vagabond and had no mother, he would not be the boy he is. He comes from parents who look after their children and has lived in an orderly household. That's why he is the boy he is."
Heavy steps approached the door at this moment, but it was not the tramping of the boys, which was always accompanied with loud yodels, so Lorenz went to open the door and asked, "Who is there?"
A large, powerful man whom he at once recognized as a dealer in fruit at Leuk held out his hand and said, "I haven't seen you for a long time, Lesa. How are things going with you? I come on an errand for your cousin in Leuk."
Lorenz was disturbed at these words, for he felt sure his old friend had come on Vinzi's account. He often drove over the mountain and yet scarcely ever turned out of his way to call on him. However, he invited him to step in and make himself comfortable while they talked.
The fruit dealer explained that this was impossible as he had left his cart standing on the road, and his horses were none the tamest. He must deliver his message as quickly as he could: Vinzenz Lesa had wanted to write a letter, but had not had the time after he had heard that a wagon was going over the mountain. He had had barely time to tell him he wished he would bring his son down with him, for it was time he returned. The fruit dealer added that he would return in two days, when his business would be done, and would then take the boy along with him.
Lorenz could say nothing, he was so dumbfounded at the thought that Vinzi must go.
"Well, Lesa, good-bye until Thursday. I may be here as early as eight o'clock in the morning," and the man looked questioningly at his silent host. "You understand me, don't you?"
"Yes, yes, only too well!" answered Lorenz. "The boy shall be ready; you will not have to wait for him, you may depend upon that."
He accompanied the man out to where his great wagon stood, loaded with sacks and drawn by four strong horses. Just as it drove off with a loud tinkling of bells, the boys came driving their herd, singing and shouting at the cattle. Should he tell those merry boys the distressing news? It would put an end to their happiness, he knew that. He had a soft heart, and could not bring himself to do it, so he greeted the boys cheerfully and things went along just as usual.
After supper came the time for singing, for this had grown to be a custom in the house. They sang as happily as birds in spring, all but the father, for tonight there was a heavy load on his heart. He kept thinking, "I must tell them tonight. The time is too short to wait any longer."
At last came the moment for the mother to say, as she did every evening, "Now we must stop; it has struck nine."
Then he broke the news hurriedly in a few unmistakable words, and they all received it silently, with surprise and sorrow. The mother was the first to find her tongue.
"Of course you told him it was out of the question to let Vinzi go day after tomorrow?" she said with an emotion altogether unusual with her. "I can't understand what he means, to come and take the boy away, as though his leaving didn't amount to anything, the way one might tear a switch out of a hedge. Surely, you told him so?"
"The man did not come to do us any harm," said her husband. "You must not forget that Vinzi's parents have the right to summon him home, and one cannot deny that this was a good opportunity."
By this time the boys had recovered sufficiently to express their feelings, and they raised such an outcry that their father declared the best thing for them was to go to bed; things would look brighter after a night's rest.
Vinzi had remained silent all this while, and now as he sat on his door sill and gazed up at the stars, he was swayed by conflicting emotions. He was happy at the thought that he would soon see his mother and Stefeli, and his father too. Perhaps the latter would be kindly disposed toward him again, as in the old days Vinzi remembered so well. Then his father would let him ride on his knees, and would say to him—
"Now, Vinzi, lively! As soon as you can ride well, you shall have a horse."
Vinzi was not quite sure just when his father had begun to change in his attitude toward him, nor did he know why.
On the other hand, there was the sadness that for him all this lovely mountain life was at an end. He must leave all these kind people. And then the music! Yes, all the music! With whom could he continue his music at home? There was no one. Must all this be ended for him forever? His heart sank within him at the thought, but next moment it pulsated with the thought of going home and seeing those he loved.
Even if he must forget all about music at home, thought Vinzi to himself, he would surely be able to go up to Father Silvanus again some day, and this was his last consoling thought as he fell asleep.
The next morning there was no time for any discussion as they had to be off to the pasture as early as possible. Jos and Faz were already off for the cows, and Vinzi was ready to follow with Russli when his Cousin Lorenz drew him to one side and said in a low voice, "It has to be, Vinzi, and you will be glad to get home. I wanted to tell you so that you could bid good-bye to Father Silvanus and to the grandfather this morning."
Vinzi knew his cousin's words were final, and he went off in silence, which did not please Russli at all.
"Say something to me," said the little boy petulantly, after they had walked a short distance.
"I can't talk very well," replied Vinzi, "something is choking me. But don't be unhappy, for when I get home I will send you something nice for your little shop."
"You needn't go home," declared Russli confidently. "Faz has thought of something to do so you need not go. He told Jos about it at the pump. Early tomorrow morning he will go up the road and wait for the wagon. When it stops, he will climb up into the seat and say that he is the boy from Leuk. Then the man will drive on, and when they have gone some distance along the other side of the mountain, he will jump off the wagon and say he is not the right boy after all, and run back. Now don't you see? The man can't do anything then, for it will be too far for him to come back."
Vinzi was not at all convinced that this plan would prevent his trip home, but he felt deeply moved at the thought of Faz taking so much pains to keep him. He had really had less to do with Faz than with the other two boys.
"What are you going to send me for my shop?" inquired Russli later.
"I shall not tell you," replied Vinzi. "It must be a surprise; then it will please you better."
"Is it something to eat?" persisted Russli.
"No, nor anything to drink," answered Vinzi. "But I will tell you no more about it, or it will be no surprise."
At the pasture Vinzi parted from Russli and went on to the hospice as usual. He had been instructed always to go at once to the great room and there await Father Silvanus. He always came quickly. But this morning Vinzi did not stand before the harmonium with sparkling eyes in happy expectation, as he always did when the priest stepped in. Today his pupil was quite downcast and when the priest looked at him questioningly, Vinzi informed him that this would be the last time he would come; he was going home the next day.
"Oh, what a pity, what a real pity!" exclaimed Father Silvanus slowly. "But you can keep up your music at home, can't you?"
Vinzi fought back the tears, though his eyes filled in spite of him as he answered, "No, I believe not."
"Keep up your courage, my boy!" advised Father Silvanus, patting him kindly on the shoulder. "Keep up your courage! It is always lovely to go home, and if the Lord thinks music is good for you, it is an easy thing for Him to send someone across your path who will help you further. Perhaps you will return to us and we will go on with your music together."
The priest shook his hand in a fatherly way and accompanied him to the door, where he gave the lad his blessing, saying heartily: "May God watch over you!" and then sent him on his way.
Vinzi was scarcely able to stammer his thanks, he had to fight so hard to keep back the tears, and he was most grateful to the priest for making his farewell so short, he could not have controlled himself much longer. Perhaps Father Silvanus had perceived that fact.
Vinzi gazed around him again and again. The mist began to lift, and everything grew clearer in the sunshine—the snow-capped mountain, the cascade, the rocky cliffs, and above them all was the deep blue of the heavens. He looked at it all once more, then ran off to the Tower.
The grandfather had come out when the fog lifted, and was again seated on his bench.
"You've come early today, and that is right," he called out to the approaching boy. "But what's wrong, what is the matter?" he added as he came up close.
When Vinzi explained, he said, "But we will be glad that you could stay this long. It has been my hope that you could come and sing my hymn for me when I go to my heavenly home. But perhaps I will be here till next summer, and then you will come back again. We will say good-bye with that thought," and the grandfather shook hands with Vinzi in a hearty way, saying his cousin would be expecting him, and he did not wish to detain him.
Vinzi hurried toward the house, thinking that the grandfather might be right. In the meanwhile, Cousin Josepha had been persuaded that Vinzi must go, and she rejoiced when she saw him coming so soon. It would give her a chance to talk with him, and that was necessary in order for her to regain her usual calm, for this sudden leave-taking had quite upset her.
When they had sat together and chatted as on the day of his arrival, her complacent mood was fully restored as Vinzi assured her he had no greater desire than to come up to the mountain again, live in her house, and occupy his lovely sleeping quarters.
When the family were all sitting together that evening, Father Lorenz said, "Singing is the best means of driving away sad thoughts," and began a song himself. The others joined in, and the music continued until bedtime.
The next morning things did not go just as Faz had planned. The brothers were ready to go to the pasture and were saying good-bye when the continuous cracking of a whip on the road told Father Lorenz that the fruit dealer was arriving earlier than he had said.
Vinzi climbed up to his high seat, and he called a separate farewell to Lorenz, Josepha and the three boys, after which the horses started off. Truly sad at heart, all five watched the departing Vinzi, Russli feeling the least grief because of the surprise he had in prospect.
When the wagon reached the spot from which the Tower in the meadow was visible, the road was suddenly lined with a crowd of noisy boys. More and more kept coming, and finally they lifted a shrill "Hurrah!" and then shouted over and over again, "Come again!" so lustily that all four horses reared.
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Down below the grandfather sat on his bench and waved his hat high in the air and Vinzi answered by swinging his.
A window was opened in the hospice above, and a hand waved a friendly farewell to Vinzi; the hand of Father Silvanus.
One more stretch up the mountain, past the wild beeches and gnarled old fir-trees, and then came the quick descent to the valley.
MORE UNEXPECTED EVENTS
STEFELI'S summer was more pleasant than had seemed possible when Vinzi went away. Mr. Delrick never started on one of his long walks without asking, "Is Stefeli coming with me?"
As Stefeli did not go to the pasture after Vinzi had left, the mother never lost an opportunity to send her outdoors with Mr. Delrick, for the little girl fretted because she had to sit about the house so much. She was always highly pleased when she heard the welcome question and could lay aside the knitting of the long stocking to skip about in the meadows. Stefeli told her escort all sorts of things, what she had done out on the pasture, and all about the life in the home, as well as the ambitions and ideals of father, mother, Vinzi and herself.
It was in this way that Mr. Delrick learned the history of the Lesa family, but he became intimate with the life of the three members of the household in another manner also.
Vinzenz Lesa liked to spend his leisure evening hours on the bench outside the door, where he could enjoy the pleasant odor of the walnut leaves wafted to him on the evening air. There he smoked his pipe, and was pleased when Mr. Delrick sat beside him and they discussed the topics of the day.
With Mrs. Lesa, he held an altogether different kind of conversation. Their talk always concerned the same subject, and that was Vinzi. She had told him how all Vinzi's happiness from early childhood had been centered on music, and how his father had centered his ambition in the determination that the boy should follow in his footsteps.
Mr. Delrick had deep sympathy for the mother, and tried to comfort her by saying that young lads such as Vinzi often evince an enthusiasm, only to drop it when a happy future lay before them, such as had come to Vinzi. At the same time he understood how anxiety pervaded her days and how her thoughts would dwell on the subject. And since he believed it lightened the mother's heart to discuss the matter, he often led their conversation back to Vinzi, and listened sympathetically to all she said.
In this way he had become the special friend and confidant of each member of the house, and Stefeli, as well as her father and mother, would say, "We will have to ask Mr. Delrick; he is sure to know," whenever a question came up which they could not answer at once; or when there was something they worried about, they would say, "We must consult Mr. Delrick; he can certainly advise us."
Therefore when the good news came down from the mountain that both old and young loved Vinzi and that he had brought them all great happiness, Mr. Delrick took as lively an interest in the report as though he belonged to the family. The mother listened in silence but both he and the father expressed the hope that the boy had begun to find joy in those things which were connected with his future career, and now Mr. Delrick prayed that the little family to which he had become so attached was to be reunited and find happiness before he left them.
The day came when Father Lesa told his wife in the presence of Mr. Delrick that he had met an old friend who was driving to the mountain, and he had instructed him to bring Vinzi back, and they should arrive in five days.
The mother's heart throbbed with joy and Stefeli in her excitement could not sit still, but ran about restlessly. She kept counting the days, thinking they could not be lived through, but wonderful to relate the fifth day arrived with unexpected swiftness.
She had just returned from a walk with Mr. Delrick when her father came in from the field and said, "Vinzi may arrive at any minute. Let us have supper ready so he can sit down with us."
Mr. Delrick was summoned, and they began to eat, though Stefeli could scarcely swallow her food, and things went no better with her mother.
"Here he comes!" suddenly cried the child and she dashed out of the door.
None of the others had heard anything, but a few moments afterward Stefeli came in triumphantly holding Vinzi by the hand. The joy of the parents was not expressed in words, but one could easily see the father's pride as he looked at his son and led him up to Mr. Delrick.
The latter gave him a keen look, for his mind had dwelt on the lad for many weeks and now he thought, "I can easily understand why the mother is so devoted to him and how his father's hopes center in him, for he is certainly a fine appearing lad."
His father asked how he had liked the pasture up there and Vinzi described in ecstasy how the violets ladened the air with their perfume and tall larches spread their wide branches over the moss-covered stones, while the cows grazed so peacefully that their bells tinkled softly like a song of peace.
His mother asked if he had found pretty flowers up there too, and Vinzi waxed still more enthusiastic as he told how the field of roses made such a vivid glow it looked like fire.
Vinzi also described his sleeping quarters and said how dear the place had become to him—the little house that was filled with the fragrance of the haymow.
Both father and mother were amazed at their boy; he had never spoken with such assurance and enthusiasm.
The mother thought, "Our Vinzi is not the same as when he left us. He has begun a new life. What will happen now?"
The father had much the same impression for he said to himself, "Vinzi is different. He has found himself and knows what he wants."
The next morning Stefeli was up bright and early, for the joy of knowing Vinzi was home banished sleep. Just as she was about to knock on his door, it opened and Vinzi stepped out dressed and ready for the day.
Stefeli drew back in astonishment and exclaimed, "You're up frightfully early! You didn't use to do so and I was going to call you."
"Well, you see now I can do it too," said Vinzi, laughing at her surprise. "I always got up very early on the mountain. When one is impatient for the happiness the day is to bring, one is glad to jump out of bed. It's a habit with me now."
"What made you so happy up there?"
"Come along and I'll tell you about it," said Vinzi, going downstairs.
His father stood in the doorway, to forecast the weather, for he had just stepped out of his bedroom. Now he turned around.
"What, already?" he said in surprise. "That is a good sign. You learned something up there, Vinzi, that is worth while, for you did not use to be the first one up in the morning. Come, let us stroll over to the walnut trees until mother calls us to breakfast. The trees are making splendid growth, and the grass is thick under them too. Perhaps you can see that things here at home are lovely too, better than you did before. Do you?"
"Oh, yes!" declared Vinzi with his whole heart, looking up at the dense foliage of the walnut trees, under which he had always liked to tarry.
"You have seen how fine farm life is up there, and have learned to enjoy it. It is just as fine down here with us, and to cultivate a farm such as ours and to call it one's own is best of all."
"I could wish for something even better than that," said Vinzi with hesitation and then was silent.
His father looked at him in consternation.
"Listen, Vinzi! I am glad you have been happy up on the mountain; I haven't a word to say against it, but I am wondering what you have found up there that is better than what is down here. Tell me what it is."
"The loveliest thing up there is the harmonium in the hospice, and above everything else in the world I wish to learn to play it as Father Silvanus does."
Vinzenz Lesa darted a piercing look at his son. He stood silent a while, then: "Do you really mean what you say, Vinzi, or is it a joke?"
"I really mean just what I say," replied Vinzi.
"Well, then," said his father, "I will say something so you will know what I think of the matter. I sent you up the mountain to learn from a merry lot of boys how to enjoy farm work, for you really must learn to like it. I believed your eyes had been opened, that you had found yourself and come to your senses. But now I find you are every bit as childish as when you went away, with nothing but nonsense about music in your head. I hope I'll find a way to bring you to your senses yet and to make you see your good fortune. I certainly never thought you could get such fancies up there. You shall never go up there again. I'll find some other remedy."
Vinzi listened quietly to all his father said, though the words seemed to crush him, and when his father turned and went back to the house, he threw himself on the ground and tried to stifle his sobs by burying his face in the grass. He had surmised all along that his father would ignore his wishes about music and had cherished no hope of any other outcome. But he had firmly counted on returning to the mountain, and now that prospect was gone.
"Vinzi, you are to—" but Stefeli's voice suddenly ceased as she came nearer and heard him sobbing. "Oh, Vinzi, what is the matter?" she asked. "You must come into the house. If you can stop going on like this you must come to breakfast. Father is already at the table and mother sent me to fetch you quickly."
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Vinzi jumped up and ran over to the pump, and bathed his eyes again and again to remove all traces of tears.
"You're all right; come along now," urged Stefeli. "Mr. Delrick never comes down to breakfast, father takes no notice and mother, will say nothing. Do come along!"
The two went in, and when Vinzi took his seat with bowed head, his father gave him one keen glance. Then he pushed away his half-empty cup, rose, and went outdoors. The sight of tears always upset Vinzenz Lesa, particularly those of his son, who was more precious to him than all his possessions.
"What is the matter with father?" asked the mother, and when Vinzi raised his head, she exclaimed, "Oh, and what is the matter with you?"
Try as he would, Vinzi could not say a word, and laying his head on his arms, he sobbed aloud.
Stefeli swallowed her milk and ran out of the room to escape the sight of her mother's anxious face. "Oh, if Mr. Delrick would only come!" she sighed; for Stefeli had noticed that when her father and mother sought his advice, every difficulty seemed to disappear. Now that things were so topsy-turvy, he could surely help.
Mr. Delrick was coming down the stairs from his room as Stefeli rushed out, and when she ran up to him and seized his hand, he asked kindly, "Are you ready to start? Are you coming with me for a morning walk?"
Stefeli had hoped he would ask this very question and gladly went off with him. She quickly poured into his ear how Vinzi had cried till his eyes were red and swollen, how her father had not finished his coffee, but had pushed the cup aside and hurried off, and now her mother was sadder than she had ever seen her.
"But you will make everything all right again," concluded Stefeli with great confidence.
"I will do whatever I can," he promised.
The child's words gave him food for thought. He wondered if the mother's fears had become a fact, and the thought caused him the greater anxiety because he planned to depart within a few days to meet a friend at the Italian lakes.
When the two returned to the house, matters did not appear to be much better. Vinzi had told his mother at last how his father's words had shattered all his hopes, and she had tried to console him by saying he might change his mind; Vinzi should try to do his father's pleasure and show an interest in the tasks he set him. Then his father would surely allow him to return to the mountain.
But Vinzi shook his head and said, "Father will never let me go again. He thinks I find pleasure up there in something he does not want me to do, and that is true. I understand now what he means, though I did not before."
His mother could say no more, for she believed Vinzi was right. What would happen next? Would he be sent away again? If so, where? Her husband had an older brother, and the two men had managed the farm at Freiburg which they had inherited from their father. When they had inherited the estate in Leuk from their cousin, Vinzenz had decided to live on it, for if it was to be brought into good condition again after having been sadly neglected, he would have to look after it himself. Her husband's brother was as silent and unsociable as the old cousin who had lived in Leuk, and he looked as much the savage too. Vinzenz had left an old servant with him on the Freiburg farm who knew how to do everything just as Vinzenz wanted it. His brother was averse to undertaking anything new, and kept postponing all personal effort in the hope that his brother would soon return.
Mrs. Lesa knew that there had been eccentric people in the Lesa family and suddenly a new fear arose in her heart. If the father decided to send Vinzi to the Freiburg estate in order to interest him in the work and management of a farm, there would be nothing but solitude for him there. Might not the boy, who had always been different from other children, grow still more peculiar if he lived with his eccentric uncle? It was said the old cousin at Leuk used to sit in front of his barn for hours at a time and stare fixedly into space, and the people had called him Starri of Leuk.* The Freiburg uncle was said to do the same thing and as such nicknames are passed along and everyone knew the Lesa family originally came from Leuk, he also was called Starri of Leuk.
* The Starer of Leuk.
When she reached this point in her thinking, she was more anxious than ever. Her husband's grievance against his son was that he was always staring into the distance, never seeing or hearing what went on before his eyes. What if her lively young son should become the third Starri of Leuk?
She was roused from her dark forebodings by Stefeli's sudden entrance. She had come to tell her mother that Mr. Delrick had returned from his morning walk and was now talking to Vinzi in his room. Mrs. Lesa hurried to prepare her lodger's breakfast, which was not ready for him because he had returned much earlier than usual.
Mr. Delrick was well aware of Vinzi's lifelong passion for music, and he also knew the father's will and wish, and that he had sent his son to the mountain in order to accomplish his purpose. But he had not learned from Stefeli's eager story what had roused the father's anger and caused the son's tears so soon after the joyful homecoming. He took such a lively interest in the joys and sorrows of the Lesa family that he felt he must learn if he could help now in any way. He was to be with them such a very short time that he had hurried back from his walk to talk to the brooding Vinzi. Sitting down beside him, he told him he would be traveling over the Simplon in two days, and if Vinzi had any messages for his friends, he would gladly carry them.
Vinzi's face brightened at this news, and he asked with intense longing, "Are you going to see Father Silvanus and the grandfather?"
"I do not know who they are," answered Mr. Delrick. "Tell me about them, and about all your experiences up there."
Vinzi opened his heart. How he talked of all that occupied his thoughts! Mr. Delrick showed such quick sympathy that he could tell him all about the friends and the music that had made him so happy on the mountain. And now he would be glad to do whatever work was to be done, and would do it happily, even to giving up playing or even hearing any more music, if only he could hope to return to the mountain next summer and go to Father Silvanus every morning. But his father had said that could not be. His account shed new light on the matter, and after a while Mr. Delrick said, "Tell me, Vinzi, did Father Silvanus ask you to try to carry on your music at home or did he only mean that he wished you to continue your lessons if you went back to him?"
Vinzi reported what the priest had advised and that he had said it would be impossible as he knew his father would not allow such a thing.
"You wish to learn to play an instrument for your own pleasure, Vinzi?" inquired Mr. Delrick. "Have you thought of making music your life work? Or could you not imagine such a thing?"
Vinzi's eyes flamed.
"Oh, yes, I could! I kept thinking about it while I was up on the mountain, more each day. I can very well imagine what that would be!" Vinzi assured him. "I would like not only to play an instrument but want to know all about music, like Father Silvanus. He knows everything and can explain how the notes are put together so they make harmony, and how to write them down so that one can read them from the page. He started to teach me all that, and it is so lovely and so wonderful! Oh, I would gladly shovel snow all day and do all kinds of hard labor in order to stay up there the whole winter if I might be with Father Silvanus, for he would continue teaching me. He said so." Vinzi found it difficult to suppress his rising grief.
"You see, Vinzi, your father has only your welfare at heart," explained Mr. Delrick kindly. "You know that yourself, and I can assure you it is so. He made this decision because he thinks your life up on the mountain would stand in the way of your happiness. But time brings many changes, and he may not hold to this idea. It is altogether wrong for you to keep repeating those words; they only make you sad. Did you not find good fortune and happiness where you expected only sorrow and pain? Remember that, Vinzi; it will give you courage."
While they had been talking, Mrs. Lesa had gone in and out of the room, setting the breakfast table, and it did much for her peace of mind to see the two talking and to know the boy was paying close attention to Mr. Delrick's words.
"Now, Vinzi, pull yourself together and be happy that you are home again," advised Mr. Delrick, getting up from his chair. "Show your father a happy face when he comes home and be willing to do the work he wishes you to do. Then everything will come out right. Will you think over what I have said?"
Vinzi readily promised and when Mr. Delrick left the room looked up at his mother with brighter eyes.
The day passed quietly, for all felt depressed and the merry mood of the evening before had vanished. When evening came and Vinzenz sat out on his bench as usual, his forehead was drawn into deep wrinkles and he let his pipe go out as he stared at the ground.
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Mr. Delrick now stepped up to him and as he struck a match and offered it to his host, he remarked, "You are not in a good humor, Mr. Lesa, or you would not let your pipe go out. Here, light it again."
"Humor, humor indeed!" repeated Mr. Lesa savagely. "When a field is destroyed by hail, one may hope the next year will bring a crop. But when one's only son goes from bad to worse, where is there any hope?"
"So far as I can judge, you have a well-trained and honest son, Mr. Lesa," said Mr. Delrick calmly.
"There is nothing to complain about in that respect," replied the father. "But what's to be done when a father tries to see that all his son has to do is to enjoy his good fortune, and the boy does not see it or know what is best for him, and doesn't wish to learn anything but childish stuff? But I will not give up until Vinzi returns to his senses, even if I have to send him across the ocean. However, there is a place nearer where his childishness will find no support, that's a sure thing."
"You mean your son's love of music and his wish to devote himself to it? That may be something quite different from childishness; it may be something very serious on his part."
"Something very serious!" repeated the roused father. "It is play, just like anything else. I would have nothing against it if the boy amused himself singing merry songs in the leisure of the evening, but that's not his way. He sits and gazes ahead without seeing or hearing anything; he thinks only about his piping. Once I found a whole pile of pipes he had carved, stowed away in the haymow—children's toys on which he put all his thought!"
"But that shows how earnest he is in his longing for music," replied Mr. Delrick. "If it were only play like any other game, he would have dropped it for something else long since, after the way of boys. His mind would not cling so to one thing. And his perseverance in trying to make each instrument better so it would meet his requirements shows how great his zeal is. I am convinced this is no play with him but has become his serious work."
"Work! Do you call such a thing work?" and in his anger Vinzenz Lesa puffed unusually thick clouds out of his pipe.
"Certainly music can be work, and where there is genius, it can become a high calling," continued Mr. Delrick. "I think, Mr. Lesa, you should let your son learn an instrument. His desire for it is so intense, he would undertake any kind of work with pleasure in order to fulfil his wish."
Vinzenz Lesa laid his pipe aside, and that with him was a sign of greatest agitation.
"Sir," he said, restraining his anger with difficulty, "the only son of Vinzenz Lesa shall not be a musician. He has a farm on which he can live like a gentleman. If he wants to blow a trumpet later on as much as he wants to now, he can afford to do so. But it is quite a different matter to lead a boy away from a profitable and proper calling and train him to play instruments and write music. Vinzi has no common sense, for he tells me what you have just said: that he wants to take up music as his occupation. No, sir, the son of Vinzenz Lesa shall never become a wandering minstrel!"
"It is not necessary for a musician to be a wanderer," Mr. Delrick declared. "There are many musicians, gifted men, who practise their calling in quite a different manner."
"They come to one's door," continued the enraged father, "many hundreds of them. The man with a broken fiddle, the woman with a screeching voice, both clothed in rags. That's the end of them all! Sir, if you had an only son, would you make a musician of him?"
"Surely not one like you describe," answered Mr. Delrick, "but if I had a son with the talent which makes a great composer, I know nothing would hinder me from helping him fulfil his desire."
"My lad does not have such a gift, that is sure," declared the father obstinately. "Such genius is not often found. Believe me, sir, when Vinzi comes to his senses, he will be glad enough that he lives on a fine farm and is its owner instead of being a wandering musician."
Mr. Delrick confessed he did not know how much talent for music Vinzi possessed; he only knew of the boy's intense delight in it. He also felt that Vinzenz Lesa's opinion about a musician's life was not to be changed with words. One question had arisen, however. How could he decide whether he would be justified in trying to overcome the father's aversion or whether he ought to give him his support and aid in bringing his son into the right path?
"Mr. Lesa," he said as he rose and held out his hand, "we will talk no more about it now, for it seems we can't come to any understanding today. But we will discuss it again, when I hope we will agree, for we have always gotten along well with one another until now."
"We have that," replied Vinzenz Lesa, shaking the outstretched hand. "And when we do not hold the same opinion, still I know that you mean well."
On the following day, the last before Mr. Delrick departed, it was so silent and sad in the house that one might have supposed a great misfortune was impending.
Stefeli had thought that when Vinzi was once more at home there would be nothing but happiness in the house. Now it was just the opposite and the only one who could help them was leaving.
Mr. Delrick had told Mrs. Lesa of his conversation with her husband, but declared in spite of it, he still hoped to find a way out for Vinzi. However, she could entertain no such view and saw only disaster ahead. Even if her husband yielded to Mr. Delrick's persuasion, he would never be reconciled and there would always be dissension between father and son. Only one person could avoid this and he was going away.
Vinzi thought that if he only could talk everything over again with Mr. Delrick, joy and confidence would be restored, but this was impossible since he was departing.
Mr. Lesa was under the impression that his wife and son did not understand what was necessary for the boy's welfare. The only one who would be likely to have such insight and bring the others to his viewpoint was now leaving them.
Mr. Delrick still had a kind word for one and all, but he could not lift them out of their depression.
As he withdrew to his own room on the last evening, there came a knock at his door and Vinzi stepped in. He was carrying two books and a little package, and asked timidly if Mr. Delrick would take them to his cousins. The little packet was for Russli; he had promised faithfully he would send it to him. The books were for Jos and Faz, for the boys had told him how glad they were to read on the long winter evenings, and as they had only a few books, they had to read them over and over again. Vinzi wanted him to carry his best wishes to all the cousins, and to the grandfather and Father Silvanus. Would he thank them for all they had done and say how much he would like to be with them, how glad he—but Vinzi could get no further. He said a hurried good-night and went off.
Mr. Delrick intended to return to Germany from the Italian lakes by another route. He hoped to return the next summer, which news was received by the Lesa family with much rejoicing, though Stefeli thought it was a very long time to wait. Early the next morning Mr. Delrick was on his way up to the Simplon.
SURPRISES, NOT FOR RUSSLI ALONE
SEPTEMBER and October were months of heavy work for Vinzenz Lesa, and he was busy from dawn to dark. Usually he was in a happy mood at this season because of the blessings of a bounteous harvest. However, this autumn he went around in silence and often stood lost in thought, gazing into space. It was evident he was pondering some difficulty. Indeed, the problem of Vinzi's future filled his mind night and day and left him no peace, for he loved his son and was as proud of him as only a father can be. But the boy must be brought to his senses and realize his good fortune.
After many days spent in weighing the matter, he came to a definite decision, and went into the room where his wife sat mending his shirt. She was just as much disturbed as he, and for the same reason.
"I'll take the boy away on Sunday," said he directly he came in. "I'll take him to my brother in Freiburg. There will be plenty of work until winter, and Vinzi will be glad of it for he will find no amusements there."
Mrs. Lesa's sewing slipped out of her fingers into her lap as she looked up at her husband pale with dread.
"Have you considered the state your brother is in, Vinzenz? Do you not remember the name they have given him?" she asked. She was filled with anxiety for she could picture their Vinzi staring ahead as was his habit and her brother-in-law, sad figure that he was, alongside him.
"That's nothing," replied her husband. "He is not vicious; he just doesn't take to work and can't manage things; but he has sense enough to know there should be a master on the place as well as a servant. That is why he insists I ought to go back or send my boy to him. Vinzi is not stupid, and when he finds he can issue orders, he will like it. After that comes knowledge. This is just the thing for him, believe me! I have thought it all over, and we are off on Sunday."
Plenty of objections occurred to Mrs. Lesa, but since it seemed everything she had said only strengthened her husband's determination, she remained silent and he went off.
When she was alone with her thoughts, she remembered what grief she had suffered when Vinzi went away before, and how much better things had gone with him than she had feared. She had not trusted in the dear God. He had led her lad to kindly people, and surely to begin grieving and doubting now, as though she knew better than He what was best for Vinzi, displayed ingratitude. She would put everything in His hands, in full confidence that the Father in Heaven meant well with all His children and would guide hers as was best. She grew calm, and longed to talk with Vinzi, who did not know anything about this new plan.
That evening she heard Vinzi and his father as they returned from the woods where they had been all day and called the boy to her, for she knew that her husband would be busy in the stable and barn and would not miss him.
Stefeli came running in as soon as she heard Vinzi, but her mother sent her out to the barn on an errand, expecting she would remain there quite a while with her animal friends.
But Stefeli had noticed that her mother had something special on her mind, and thought it was absolutely necessary she should be present. She flew on her errand and was back again. But her mother did not share her view, and said, "Go and search every corner in the hen-house. You know the hens lay in unexpected places. Hunt everywhere before you bring in the eggs."
Stefeli ran as fast as she could, but she was hardly out of the house before she came rushing back. Flinging open the door, she shouted, "He is coming back! He is coming back!"
With that she was off again. The mother and Vinzi gazed at one another. Both had the same thought, but it seemed so impossible that neither expressed it.
The door opened again and what they thought impossible was really a fact. Stefeli stepped in triumphantly, holding Mr. Delrick by the hand. The surprise was so great that neither Mrs. Lesa nor Vinzi could utter a word though both their faces beamed with joy.