Story 2--Chapter IV.

It was far on in the afternoon when they passed through a beautiful wood. The Tyrol abounds in fir forests, beeches, and chestnuts. We may fancy our little friends, then, enjoying themselves under the shade of the trees. Many hours having passed since their mid-day meal, the loaf of bread was produced, and Toni cut a slice for each with his pocket-knife, spreading it with honey. This proved very grateful to the hungry children, who had tasted nothing since their dinner with the good schoolmaster. Toni and Hans, tired enough by this time, were glad after their meal to stretch themselves on the grass and go to sleep, but Nanny, who had been spared all fatigue, ran about playing with the dog, going here and there, and looking with wondering pleasure at the trees and wild flowers, all of which were so new to her, and talking to the little birds that hopped from bough to bough twittering their pretty songs. The light was playing between the trees, flecking the turf beneath with shadows, and illuminating the trunks of the old firs with a ruddy glow. The little girl skipped about in great delight, getting as she went along a lap full of flowers, which she amused herself by forming into bouquets and wreaths. In stooping down, her eyes fell upon some wood strawberries, which were quite ripe and growing in great numbers. “Oh, what a nice surprise for my brothers!” she said, and set to work gathering as many as she could. Three large leaves were spread on the top of a small rock which served as a table, and when the boys awoke, they were called to partake of the feast. A merry little party they were. And now, having finished their repast by taking a drink of milk from the old woman’s bottle, no more time must be lost, Nanny was told to take her seat, and, the dog being laid at her feet, they again set out.

The sun was sinking lower and lower in the bright sky, till at length it vanished below the horizon. And now the next question was, where they should sleep? Should they go on to the next village, and beg a night’s lodging? For money they had none wherewith to pay for one.

“No, no,” cried little Nanny, quite in love with the pretty green wood: “let us make this our home for the night; the stars will be our lamps, the moss and flowers our pillow, and the little birds will sing us asleep.” She clapped her hands with joy at the thought.

The boys were not unwilling to agree to this proposal, and having drawn the cart under a large oak-tree, they all knelt down upon the grass, and Toni prayed aloud. “Our Father in heaven, we thank Thee for having brought us in safety so far; we thank Thee for giving us food when we were hungry. We are sure Thou wilt be with us in the darkness, and Thou wilt hold Thine hand over us, and not let any wild beast or snake come near to hurt us. Please cover Nanny, that the night dew may not give her cold: do, good God, for Thou knowest she is not strong, and we would like to take her quite well to grandfather. Hear us for Jesus’ sake. Amen.”

They rose from their knees, and oh! how full of delight Nanny was! for around on every side, both on the ground and flying about among the bushes, were numbers of the most brilliant sparks; I am sure if she had tried she could not have counted them.

“Toni! Hans! look,” she exclaimed. “Are these stars? But stars, I am sure, never live in the grass. What can they be?”

“They are glow-worms and fireflies,” said Toni, and explained to her how that by day they looked brown and ugly, and it was only in the darkness they were so bright.

We see Nanny was not without reason in likening these fireflies to stars. She entreated her brothers to catch some of them, that she might hold them in her hand; and they soon collected several, and put them in her hair, so that she looked as if crowned with a wreath of stars.

It was now night, and, under the dim light of a half-moon, the children, weary with the previous day’s exertion, lay down to rest. Nanny’s starry crown soon disappeared; nightingales struck up their thrilling notes, crickets chirped, soft airs whispered among the trees, little birds, with their heads under their wings, roosted in the boughs overhead, and the children soon fell fast asleep, safe under their Heavenly Father’s protection.

It was bright daylight ere the little ones opened their eyes. They soon recollected themselves, for at first they looked about, wondering where they were, and having risen and breakfasted on bread and honey, with a drink of milk, were not long in setting off again on their travels.

So far we have followed them. They had escaped without discovery, their daily wants had been supplied, and they trusted to be before long happy with their grandfather.

We shall not, however, be surprised to hear that, while they had been peacefully pursuing their way, there had been no small stir in their uncle’s house. When he found the children missing, he was almost beside himself with rage. What now would become of all his fine dreams for the future? They had already helped to fill his purse with gold, and he looked forward greedily to more gains in time to come. Find them he must. Inquiries were made in every direction, advertisements put in the public papers, bills pasted on the walls, police put on the search. What would he not do to get them back again? He himself drove out to the country; fortunately, however, or rather God so ordered it, he took the opposite direction to that which the children had taken.

Three days had passed, and the boys were beginning to be very weary and footsore.

In the evening they were wondering what to do, and where to go for the night, when they saw a large number of gentlemen and servants on horseback coming towards them. It was a hunting party returning home.

“Hallo! hallo!” cried one of them; “here’s some fine game. Why, these must be the runaway children about whom there has been such a hue and cry in Vienna. Hold! stop! you are caught,” he continued, addressing himself to the terrified little ones. “Come away with us, and to-morrow we will send you home.”

Nanny clasped her hands, and bursting into a flood of tears, exclaimed, “Please, sir, oh, please not to send us back to uncle!” and Hans, trembling in every limb, begged them to have pity.

Toni was the only one of the three who remained calm, saying in a cheerful voice to his sister, “Do not be frightened, Nanny; the good God knows all.”

By this time the rest of the party had come up, and among them a tall, elderly man with white hair, who smiled kindly on the children, and directed one of his servants to take them to the castle. They were accordingly lifted on to a truck that was conveying the game, the result of the day’s sport; their own little cart was slung on behind; and so they arrived at a beautiful house standing in a large park. Nanny and Hans, sobbing bitterly, with their little arms round one another, were seated on a roebuck. Toni, sitting opposite, looked so smiling, trying in his own quiet way to comfort them, that they at length began to look brighter and dried their tears.

When they arrived the castle was brilliantly lighted. The children were lifted down and led into a large hall, where a number of ladies were assembled, waiting to receive the party, who had been away since early morning.

As you may imagine, great was the astonishment when the little ones were brought in, and many questions were put to them; but it was not till the arrival of the gentlemen that they understood what it all meant.

When they were at length joined by the lord of the castle, he went up to the children, and, looking kindly at them, endeavoured to gain their confidence. He began by gently inquiring the cause of their leaving their uncle’s house. “Was he unkind to you?” he asked.

“Not exactly, sir,” quickly replied the little girl; “but I danced till I could dance no longer. I felt as if I was going to die.”

“It is all true, sir,” said Hans. “Toni and I were afraid we should lose our little sister.”

“I am sure it was God’s will we should try and save her,” interrupted Toni.

“It was God’s will? How did you know that, little one?”

“Why, sir, it must have been God who put a thought into my mind that I ought to get her away. When uncle would make her dance, dance till she fell down and did not know anything, and looked so pale, I thought she was dead. Then I know He must have helped us to make the little cart, and to keep it hidden so that uncle did not see it; and He has led us the right way, and given us food to eat when we were hungry.”

“Who taught you all that, my boy?”

“Nobody, sir,” answered Toni; “only father and mother used to talk about God ordering everything, and told us to remember, and that perhaps some day we should see it for ourselves.”

“Who were your parents?” asked the gentleman, much interested.

“I can hardly tell you; but they were God’s children, for they called Him Father.”

“But what was your father? That was what I meant. What did he do?”

“Well, sir, in the morning he came and woke us and gave us a kiss, and when we were dressed, he read to us out of the big book; after breakfast he went out to teach music, I think, and when he came home he taught us to read and write: that was what he did.”

“Did your father not leave you anything?”

“Leave us anything?” said the boy thoughtfully. “I heard him say once to mother when he was ill, ‘If we die we shall have nothing to leave them, but God will be their friend.’”

“Was it your father’s wish that you should live with your uncle?”

“I never heard him say so; but he was talking to mother one day, and he said grandfather was a good old man, and could teach us to be good, and then he went on, ‘My brother is a wild fellow, but the Lord will be with them and will do for them what is best.’”

“And do you think you will be able to reach your grandfather’s home after all?”

“Yes, sir, indeed I do.”

“But we must send you back to your uncle—at least, so the police say—and what then?”

“No one can send us back unless it is God’s will we should go: father said He is stronger than men.”

“But how will God hinder it?”

“That I cannot tell. He has promised to help those who call upon Him, and what He promises He is sure to do; mother taught us that.”

All who were standing round the children were touched by the simple faith of this young boy, and the gentleman was silent for a moment, while a tear came into his eye. Then he said, “The Saviour’s words come home to me with fresh force, ‘Except ye become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.’”

The children were then put under the housekeeper’s charge, who gave them a good supper, of which they were much in need. The pretty and comfortable beds were not less welcome, where they slept soundly till long after the sun had risen.

At this house our little friends remained till matters were arranged with their uncle. Letters were dispatched telling him they had been found. He was very unwilling to give them up; but at last all obstacles were removed, and their grandfather’s address having been procured, they were in due time sent to him under charge of a faithful servant.

No doubt the old man gave them a hearty welcome. We can tell you little farther about them, but we know they helped to cheer his old age. They did what they could to lighten his cares; Nanny learnt to play skilfully on the harp, so that in course of time, when her grandfather’s eyesight failed, she was able to fill his place. When the young people were out at any time on errands or work, and their grandfather was left alone, the trusty Pomeranian they had named “Caesar” remained in the house as his companion; and when the old man became feeble, and had to rest often in bed, the faithful creature slept at his feet, keeping kindly watch over his aged master.

Nor must I forget to add that twice every year, at Christmas and Easter, one of the servants was sent from the castle (though it was a long way distant) with a large basket of provisions. With what delight, you may imagine, the hamper was opened and the contents, one by one, taken out! In autumn, too, when the fruit was ripe, some grapes and peaches occasionally found their way to the humble cottage-home.

I think I cannot better conclude this story than by telling you that when the good old man was dying, Nanny was found with her harp at his bedside, playing one of the Tyrolese hymns about “the glories of Heaven.” The old man listened in rapture, with his hands clasped, till he entered its Golden Gates.—Translated from the German.

The End.