CHAPTER IIIUNLOOKED-FOR EVENTS
AS soon as Vinzi was awake next morning he wished it were two o’clock right away, for he simply dreaded the long morning he had to live through before his lesson. But it went by much more quickly than he expected. A lot of running about had been necessary to keep the cows together, as they were always very lively at that time.
When lunch was over and the cows had settled down to rest, Vinzi looked steadily towards the mountains. Suddenly rising from the ground he said, “It must be two o’clock now. Yesterday the sun was just above that rocky peak when I got back. In an hour it will be above the peak.”
“Yes, Vinzi. The sooner you go the sooner you’ll be back. I want to hear all about it,” said Stefeli.
Vinzi lost no time. As he was climbing up the steps at Mrs. Troll’s he found Alida waiting for him. “You came at just the right time,” she called to him; “they are both away and we’llbe entirely alone. You must always come at this time.”
When Vinzi entered the room he glanced quickly at the clock. “I know exactly how high the sun must be when I leave,” he said with satisfaction. “It is just ten minutes after two.”
“Let’s start in now,” Alida proposed. “First, I’ll tell you what the notes are called, and next, which of the keys one has to play on. After that you can begin.”
She took up a little sheet of music and began to teach him. As Alida did not care to linger long over anything her instruction was rather hurried. But Vinzi had so attentively followed every word and had comprehended her so quickly, that his teacher proceeded as rapidly as she had wished.
“I’ll show you the keys now. As soon as you play a bit you’ll get to know the notes better,” she said. Reading the notes to him had begun to seem extremely tiresome.
As she taught him the keys, Alida played them too in order to make the lesson more vivid.
Vinzi could not help wondering profoundly.
“How is the music made?” he asked suddenly.
“It is already made and printed in the book,from which we can read and play it,” answered Alida.
“But hasn’t somebody made it up before others can play it?” asked Vinzi modestly. “Don’t you think that one could write down tunes one hears inside one’s head, if one only knew how? Then one could play it all on the piano.”
“But that’s not a bit necessary. I am quite sure that enough music has been written already,” Alida said, glancing with a deep sigh at the large book in which were printed all the exercises she had to learn.
Vinzi was also looking at it, absolutely absorbed. The large black dots seemed to him nothing short of a miracle.
“Now I’ll play you the little piece you liked so much,” Alida continued. “Soon you’ll be able to play it, too. It is awfully easy.”
Vinzi’s eyes glowed as he listened. He drank it in with all his senses.
Just as Alida had reached the end the black-forest clock on the wall struck three.
“The lesson is over, but come again tomorrow,” said Alida jumping up from her chair.
Shaking hands, Vinzi quickly hurried away.Three days passed in the same way. Vinzi proved such an apt pupil that his teacher could not help wondering at his progress. He had played the little piece through once, for he knew it by heart. Reading the notes still gave him trouble. When he had played it only with his index finger, Alida was much shocked. She forbade him ever to play that way again. No human being played like that, she said, for all five fingers of the hand were meant to be used in playing. But it had seemed a much easier way to Vinzi. In the end he saw how much better her way was as it was too difficult for the left hand to move quickly.
Vinzi was grateful for being sent to the pasture every day. It would have been hard for him to work with his father in the barn or stable, because his thoughts were so completely filled with his new studies that it always took him a moment to comprehend what people were saying to him. Once in a while when his father had needed him for little tasks he had shaken his head. “Well, where is your head nowadays, boy?” he had said as he sent him off.
The day had come for the fourth lesson. In happy anticipation Vinzi had been running andwas already half way up the stairs, when a sharp voice called to him from below, “Hey there, what does this mean? Come straight down, you forward boy.”
“I am only going up to Alida,” said Vinzi a little frightened.
“What, to Alida? You know no Alida here, and she does not know you, either,” Mrs. Troll cried out indignantly. “Come down this minute or I’ll fetch you down myself in a way you won’t like at all.”
Vinzi went down the stairs obediently, but not without calling out with all his might, “Alida, I am not allowed to come to you. But I want you to know that I was here.”
“What are you saying?” said the woman furiously. “I see, you meant to fool me and make me think that you know the little girl whose name you happened to hear once? Look, here is the door.”
But Alida, who had heard him, now came running down.
“Why do you send Vinzi away? He came to see me,” she said in a superior tone.
“Oh, I see, the matter was arranged beforehand,” said Mrs. Troll, but she used quite a differenttone of voice now. “Does Miss Landrat know that he was expected?”
“No, but I know,” Alida answered obstinately.
“If we tell Miss Landrat the matter will be settled,” Mrs. Troll said with a shade of sarcasm. “But the best he can do now is to go where he belongs.”
Vinzi couldn’t help agreeing to that. Giving Alida his hand, he went sadly away with the conviction that everything was now over. Alida was filled with rage that the woman should be allowed to send her dear friend away like that.
“I’ll tell father everything,” she cried out passionately, “and he won’t have Vinzi treated that way again.” Her anger giving her wings, she flew up the stairs.
As soon as Mrs. Troll saw Miss Landrat approaching with Hugo she went out quickly and gave a thorough report of what had happened. “It is quite evident that the boy has been here before,” she concluded her tale excitedly. “Everything was planned, for he shot up the stairs as if he were perfectly at home here. The girl was apparently waiting for him upstairs.”
The governess was simply petrified.
“How could Alida presume to do such a thing? The idea of making friends with a cow-herd whose father we know nothing about,” she cried out with indignation. “I’ll have to tell her parents.”
“It might be the boy who found her shawl,” said Hugo, who had kept quiet till then. “We saw him on Sunday with his sister. He looked very nice, and I don’t see why Alida shouldn’t be friends with him.”
Miss Landrat had no words left to show her disapproval; turning about she went up the stairs. Hugo followed.
“Who came here while we were gone?” asked the governess, throwing open the door.
“Vinzi,” replied Alida.
“If that is the boy’s name who was here, I should like to know what brought him here,” continued the lady in great agitation.
“He came to take a music lesson,” was the answer.
“Do you think I am joking, Alida,” said Miss Landrat, still more furious.
“No, I don’t think so,” replied the girl.
“Will you please give me a sensible answer!”exclaimed the governess. “Why did it ever occur to you to ask the boy here? What did he want?”
“He wanted his music lesson,” replied Alida, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“But why don’t you tell me who wanted to give him a music lesson,” Hugo interposed.
“I was to give it,” Alida replied seriously.
Hugo exploded with laughter.
“Didn’t he laugh at the idea of your giving him a music lesson?” he asked.
“No, he was very attentive,” said Alida.
“This is enough!” exclaimed the governess angrily. “Do not ask anything more, Hugo. Alida is wrong if she thinks it funny to invent such rubbish. I shall write to your papa at once. But before everything else I’ll—” with this she left the room.
Hugo renewed his examination now. He heard to his great amusement that she had given Vinzi several lessons and that he had already learned much. Alida also wanted her brother to know that she fully meant to tell her papa how Vinzi had been treated by Mrs. Troll.
In the meantime Miss Landrat had sought out Mrs. Troll. She told her to send Vinzi awayif he ever should venture near the house again, and roundly to forbid him entering it.
The same evening Vinzi’s father passed Mrs. Troll’s house as he cut across the field on his way home. As she happened to be in her garden at the time she called out to him. “Hey there! neighbor Lesa, I have something to say to you.”
He approached.
“I wonder,” she continued, “if it would not be better for your boy if he had something to do, instead of running into other people’s houses and getting into mischief.”
“What do you mean, neighbor?” asked Lesa, pressing his lips together.
“You ask what I mean? Well, your boy has been here several times to amuse the little girl who boards here. They play music together and such stuff,” said Mrs. Troll. “But the governess won’t hear of it and the boy must stay where he belongs from now on.”
“He’ll stay there safe enough; good-bye,” said Lesa, going his way.
At supper time he came home. Both children were seated at the table, because the mother liked to have everything ready for her husband. She immediately brought in the supper and sat down,too. But he said nothing. Once in a while the mother looked questioningly at him, but as he took no notice she realized that something must have happened. Her husband apparently wished to be alone. Therefore as soon as the meal was done and she had finished the necessary tasks, the children were sent to bed. When Lesa found himself alone with his wife he said to her, “Sit down, I must talk to you.”
She did as she was bid.
“I have had enough of the boy now,” he began in quite a temper. “It is not enough that he does nothing, understands nothing, and can’t be good for anything on the farm; now he even has to bring shame and dishonor upon us. This is the end now and I’ve made up my mind to send him away.”
The woman had grown pale with fright.
“But for heaven’s sake, what has Vinzi done?” she asked anxiously. “It is not a bit like him. What did he do, Vinzenz? Please tell me; did he really do some wrong?”
“Ask him yourself what he has done. It is enough for me to have to hear from a neighbor that it would be better for my boy to have something to do instead of running into other people’shouses and fooling around. That a thing like that should be said to me! Matters have gone on long enough now, and this is the end. I am simply going to send him away.”
In his agitation Vinzenz Lesa had risen from his chair but after walking once across the room, he came back to his seat.
“I can’t understand what has happened,” said the woman, when he was sitting beside her again, after she had been able to think a little. “It certainly is not Vinzi’s way to go into people’s houses without a cause; there must have been a reason. Let us first talk to the boy and ask him why he did it, for it is not fair to judge him otherwise. He is sure to tell us the truth. But think, Vinzenz, what it would be to send away a twelve year old boy! He is much too young for that.”
“I won’t stop you from talking to him,” replied the husband, “but one thing is clear. He simply has to go. I have thought of it for a long while and now the time has come. He must go to a place where there is no possible chance for him to hear such nonsense. He must go where there are few people, but the kind who get full pleasure from their work. I mean people whostay by themselves and who do not sit together with strangers.”
“But the first thing of all should be to know the people,” the wife interrupted eagerly. “I hope you do not mean to send Vinzi to the first person who happens to like his work on a farm.”
“Easy, easy, I am coming to that,” the man continued in a calm voice. “You know that I went up to the Simplon last fall where a cousin of mine, Lorenz Lesa, lives. Well, he has a fine farm with a few splendid cows, and though it isn’t big, everything is in excellent order. I liked it up there and I’ll send the boy to him. Vinzi may still come out all right if he sees other boys who are happy and content in that kind of life.”
“Is it really possible that you mean to send the boy so far away!” cried out the woman with a wail, “so high up into the mountains? It must be dreadfully lonely up there. I can’t even imagine what things would be like. I don’t know either your cousin or his wife. How could they be expected to receive the boy? You send him to them like a good-for-nothing with whom one can do nothing more at home. It would seem as if our Vinzi had become a criminal who had to be sent into banishment.”
“You need not get excited, woman,” retorted the man, “the change is not to be a punishment but a means of bringing him around. My cousin Lorenz is a good, sensible man who won’t treat him badly, and Cousin Josepha is a splendid woman who is bringing up her three boys in such a way that it gives one pleasure to look at them. I saw them right in the midst of their cows and I never heard such singing and jokes and such cracking of whips. They seem to have an eternal holiday. Don’t you believe yourself that our boy might change in such surroundings and realize how lucky he is to have been born to be a farmer? Nothing better could possibly happen to him than to go.”
The woman said nothing more, but she was far from convinced that Vinzi would feel at home among boys so different. She could not help wondering what the cousins would think of Vinzi’s rather odd ways. Many other thoughts disturbed her, but she knew how useless they were. Of course Vinzi had to go and she knew no other place to send him to. She asked her husband how soon they could hear whether their relations would take the boy, and when Vinzi would have to leave them. So her husband toldher that he had clearly shown Lorenz how he liked the boys and had admitted how much he wished his boy were happy and bright, too, instead of being so dreamy. Lorenz had asked him then and there to send Vinzi to him for a summer whenever he wanted to. In the gay company of the other boys he might wake up. Lorenz also promised to do his share, as happy boys appealed to him much more than obstinate ones.
So it had been settled between them that Vinzi was to go and that in return one of the three boys was to spend a summer with them. It would do him good to see a new place and different ways of working. Lesa believed that a man who lived in the valley was soon going to drive his cattle over the mountain and that would give them a good opportunity to send Vinzi.
The mother went to bed with a heavy heart that night. Vinzi was to be sent to perfect strangers into surroundings she did not know. Besides it was so far away that she could not even keep an eye on him. Why did it have to be? Another great sorrow was the thought that Vinzi must have done something to draw his father’s discontent upon him. She hardly slept that night. As soon as it had grown bright the nextmorning and before anyone in the house had wakened, she went into Vinzi’s chamber. She wanted to have a quiet hour with the boy in order to hear what he had done. She also had to prepare him for what was to happen, for she realized that it would probably be very soon. Vinzi, opening his large, dark eyes, gazed with surprise at his mother. She was sitting on the edge of his bed, holding his hand in hers.
“Tell me, Vinzi,” she began, “while nobody can disturb us, why you made father so angry yesterday. You had better tell me everything.”
Vinzi had to think a little. He remembered how furiously Mrs. Troll had sent him away the day before and he supposed his father had heard about it. He told her the whole incident of the music lessons and how raging Mrs. Troll had grown, also how desirous Alida had been to continue the lessons.
A great load fell from the mother’s heart when she found that Vinzi had done no wrong. She understood, however, that their neighbor’s words had specially irritated her husband, because Vinzi had for a long while caused him secret anxiety and grief. She found it necessary to explain to her boy, how wrong it had been totell her nothing of the matter. She wondered if it had not occurred to him that nothing like that should have been begun without telling them at home. Vinzi here quite frankly admitted that he had been afraid of not getting his father’s permission, and as he had been so dreadfully eager to learn something about music, he and Stefeli had talked it all over and had decided that it was a good time to leave the pasture. They had thought their father would not mind so long as nothing happened to the cows. But the mother said that his secrecy had not been right and was bringing bad consequences, though she hoped these might also lead to good. Here she spoke of his father’s plan and their hope that Vinzi would learn to enjoy all the farm work his three cousins seemed to relish so much. She hoped he would heartily enter into everything with them and return bright and happy; which would make his father overjoyed. However delicately the mother had mentioned their decision, Vinzi had only heard the fact that he had to leave his home. The boy looked terror-stricken, but did not utter a word. The mother was glad enough that he did not complain, because his frightened face alone had brought the tears to her eyes.
Everything took its usual course that day. The children went up to the pasture again, and the cows, after they wandered about for a bit, had quietly settled down. Stefeli was quite accustomed to Vinzi’s long silent spells, when he seemed to listen to all kinds of sounds she could not hear. But that day he went too far.
“Say something to me, Vinzi. You might just as well not be here at all,” she finally said a little crossly.
“Oh yes, and I won’t be here much longer. I can’t help thinking of your being all alone when I can’t come to the pasture any more,” Vinzi said dolefully. Then Stefeli heard that he was to be sent up to a high mountain, to people he had never seen. She could not believe that anything so unheard-of could suddenly come to pass.
“When will you have to go?” she asked, wholly overcome by this dreadful change.
As his mother had not mentioned this, Vinzi did not know.
“Oh, I am glad,” she cried out decidedly relieved, “it may not be for quite a while. And if it is put off a long while, it may never happen at all. Cheer up again, Vinzi.”
Stefeli had a way of finding a consoling sideto everything and had often brightened Vinzi’s despondent mood by her cheerful outlook. That day also the boy was affected by her words, and the sunny afternoon ended much more happily than it had begun.
When the children had gone to bed and the parents were sitting alone together Lesa told his wife that he had gone to the village that day and that when he had asked after his friend he had found that the latter had just that day driven his cows over the mountain. But there was no loss in that; on the contrary. He had at the same time heard of a young workman from Gondo who was going home to his village next Monday. As he would make the road from Brieg on foot, he expected to spend the night in Berisal on the way. This was much better, as Vinzi would not be obliged to make the whole journey on foot. Lesa also knew an innkeeper in Berisal who would provide good board for the travellers.
The woman, who had listened silently till now, here said, “How can you give our boy in charge of a person nobody knows anything about, except that he is going up the mountain.”
“I immediately went to see him and talked itall over,” replied the father, “and I found him a good fellow. When I inquired about him I heard nothing but good of him. All Vinzi needs is to have a companion, for he can look after himself perfectly well. No boy is a little child any more at twelve.”
“Young enough, to go away alone,” uttered the mother with a sigh. “Does he really have to go on Monday? Tomorrow is Sunday.”
“Nothing could be better,” the husband said decisively. “If a thing has to be done, it is best to have it settled right away. I can’t see anything dreadful in it. He is not going to Australia, and next winter he’ll be home again.”
“It is a blessing that we can give him into the protection of our Father in Heaven. I find this my only consolation now when the boy goes away, and I don’t even know the people he is going to,” said Mrs. Lesa.
“That is quite true,” the husband replied, happy at the thought that his wife had found a consolation. “I think everything is all right now,” he said after a pause, pushing his pipe from one corner of his mouth to the other. But something still seemed to be on his mind. “I think the boy ought to be told about going.”
“He knows, for I told him this morning; only I didn’t know when.”
The man found this information very welcome. Vinzi had known all day what was to happen to him and he had retained his composure. As Lesa had anticipated a flood of tears, he was very glad to be spared a scene.
Next day the afternoon sun was shining down upon the bench before Lesa’s house when he took his seat there as usual and called to Vinzi to come to him.
“You know that you are to go to our cousin’s on the mountain,” he began when the boy was sitting beside him. “It is beautiful there and you’ll soon like it. You are going there for your own good and I hope you’ll remember to do honor to your parents. Your fellow-traveller knows the house you are to go to. You are expected there, though they do not know the exact day of your coming. All you have to tell them is who you are. Just say that I sent you as I planned to do. You leave early tomorrow morning with a man who knows the way and has exact instructions.”
The father was decidedly pleased when Vinzi said not a word. To give the boy courage hevividly described the gay life of his young cousins in the midst of their lively mountain cattle. The mother in the meantime packed the little bag Vinzi was to take on his back.
Stefeli had heard from her mother what was to happen the next morning and as she noted that her questions proved unwelcome she said nothing. There was still less chance of having questions answered by her father who was now talking to Vinzi. Poor Stefeli felt quite lost and followed her mother about, hoping that the time would come soon when she could talk again.
The bag was packed and a very silent supper had been eaten. The mother seemed completely unable to utter a syllable. She was very anxious to control her grief in order not to make it harder for the boy, but she must say a few words to him that night when he was in bed. All was dark when she went to his little room and sat down at his bed-side.
“I am glad you came, mother,” he said immediately. “I am a little frightened. Do you think my uncle will be cross when I forget to mind the cows? Stefeli always called to me when she needed me if I was not paying attention.”
“I don’t know, as I never saw either your auntor your uncle,” replied the mother. “But I want to beg of you, Vinzi, to do your very best to please them. If they should complain of you, or feel obliged to send you home, your father could not bear it. Never do anything that would prevent you from looking cheerfully up to your good Father in Heaven, for you can always look to him when you feel afraid or lonely. You can tell Him everything, for He is always above you and can see and hear you. Don’t forget that, Vinzi, and may this thought be your greatest comfort.”
Vinzi promised never to forget her words. With this she left him.
In the very early morning the father accompanied Vinzi down to the station where his fellow-traveller was waiting. After the train had carried them across the valley to Brieg, they were to take to the road which led to the mountain.