CHAPTER II.—THE JOURNEY.
Before daylight, on the following morning, the children were already up. Mina combed and plaited her long hair by herself, in order to prove to her mother that she was fit to be trusted alone amongst strangers. Fritz also was washed and his hair combed, and he himself carefully dressed by the same hour, for on those hot summer days it was necessary to set out early.
The schoolmaster had given the children a very exact description of the road and all the places through which they must pass; the mother put bread and early pears in Mina's basket as refreshment by the way, together with some nice fresh butter, carefully laid in damp green leaves as a little present for Mrs. Dote. Fritz's knapsack was packed as full as it could hold, with his Sunday clothes, a clean frock for Mina, and a change of linen, and all else that was necessary for them both, on so great and unexampled a journey. Mina was to carry the little basket, and a large red umbrella, a piece of old family property, which the mother gave them in case of need. They made a hearty breakfast of new milk and bread, and this over Fritz took his cap and his newly-cut hazel stick in his hand, whilst Mina, having put on her round straw hat, took the little basket on her arm. Their hearts felt a little heavy on this the first great leave-taking of their lives, and the good mother seemed as if she could never make an end of her admonitions and warnings, her messages and compliments to Mrs. Dote. But at length the last farewell was spoken, and the brother and sister, their young hearts throbbing with the excitement of adventure, set forth on their way. The parents gazed after them till they had turned the corner, and then the father went into his beloved flower-garden, and the mother into the house, to look after her yet sleeping children.
Mina's heavy heart was soon light, as she walked on in the clear freshness of the morning air, which heralded a fine day. These children were not accustomed to parties of pleasure or to amusements; their journeyings hitherto had never extended beyond three or four miles from home, as far as Elsingen, where the grandmother lived, and yet now they had set out on such a long journey on a visit to Mrs. Dote, the lady-housekeeper of a royal castle! How joyously their hearts beat, how brilliantly their imaginations coloured the glories that awaited them!
Mrs. Dote, the castle housekeeper, was once lady's maid in the noble family of Erlichhofen, where, also, the schoolmaster had held his first appointment; she had, in consequence, become very friendly with the schoolmaster's family, and had been greatly looked up to, as a person of much experience, by the schoolmaster's young wife, so that the black-eyed Fritz, who was her godson, had an especial claim to her regard. Years went on; the schoolmaster was ordered to a distant place, and they heard nothing for a long time of Miss Lisette, till at length she surprised them by a visit with her husband, an old man, keeper or house-steward of the royal hunting-castle of Barenburg, whom she, not then by any means young herself, had married. The schoolmaster and his wife returned the visit, and there it ended; for the distance was too great for the wife, who was delicate, to go on foot, and driving was too expensive an affair for a schoolmaster. Soon afterwards, also, the house-steward fell ill, and his wife was wholly engaged in attending him; and after his death, being herself advanced to his office, and the care of the castle entirely confided to her, she could not be absent from her trust even for a single day. She had, however, long since invited her godson and his sister to pay her a visit, and now at length it was about to be accomplished.
The children walked onward, beguiling the way with merry talk; they had soon passed the familiar scenes which lay between them and the next village, and thenceforth it was wholly a land of new discovery. "But, look, that little brook runs along a good deal merrier than our slow Steinbach at home!"
"Just look there, on the hillside lies a churchyard, with nothing but white crosses!" said Mina, in a melancholy tone.
"A beautiful churchyard!" laughed out Fritz, "it's nothing but a flock of geese; hark how they are cackling!"
"Oh yes!" returned little Mina, sorry that she had felt melancholy without any need. "But what a queer church-tower! Do you see, there are four little towers round one great old one! And just look there, they have got the stork's nest on the town-house! how foolish! A stork's nest belongs to the church."
By degrees, however, the spirit for making new discoveries cooled; the cheerful talk ceased, and their steps became more and more weary; the sun was very hot, and the children were unaccustomed to long walks. They had, before setting out, said so much about their own strength, that they now felt ashamed of confessing to each other how tired they were, till at length Mina said, "But, I say, Fritz, how far have we yet to go?"
"We must sit down for a little while that I may study our travelling-map," said Fritz consequentially; and they looked out for a nice, shady place, on the grassy edge of the field, under some willows, which having found, it was with a great sense of relief that the boy threw down his knapsack and stretched himself on the soft green turf. "Mossigheim, a mile and half," read he from the paper on which his father had noted down the distances; "we have passed that; Erlach, three miles—that was the place with the queer church-tower; Rothenhof, three miles—that must be the beautiful farm-house yonder, all amongst the fruit trees; next comes Disselsburg, where father said we were to take our first rest. Now, however, we must quietly study the travelling-map; but we will, in the first place, rest a little while."
"Oh yes!" sighed little Mina, who was thoroughly tired; "but shall we be soon at the castle?"
"Not just yet," said Fritz, in a low voice; "we have only come about seven miles and a half, and we have now ten and a half to go."
"Oh, that is impossible!" exclaimed Mina, "for it is only fifteen miles altogether."
"Well, see," said Fritz, drawing out with great importance his father's silver watch, as large and as thick almost as a warming-pan, and which had been lent to him for this journey; "we set out at five o'clock, now it is eight; we will only go a little farther, as far as to where the guide-post stands."
"Is it eight o'clock, and so hot already!" sighed Mina; "dear Fritz, I should so like to go to sleep for a little while!"
"Go to sleep," said he, in a fatherly tone, "and I'll take care of you the while; when you have had half-an-hour's sleep, we shall be able to reach Mrs. Dote's by noon."
Mina folded the shawl that her mother had given her in case of cool evenings, laid it under her head, and dropped into a sweet sleep. Fritz thought he could look at the country far better if he lay down, and his well-filled knapsack making a splendid pillow, he, too, was soon fast asleep by his sister, they, neither of them, having slept well the preceding night. They forgot the heat, the weariness, and the oppressive thirst, which the pears they had eaten, and which were not very juicy, had rather increased than otherwise. Fritz forgot also that he had not only his sister, but his father's precious watch to guard, and slept as sweetly and as soundly as in his bed at home.
"Nay, what sort of tramps have we got lying here!" was the exclamation which Fritz heard, as he at length awoke out of a long sound sleep. He looked up with amazement and rubbed his eyes, as he saw the green trees and the blue sky above him, instead of the white-washed ceiling at home, and a tall respectable-looking countryman standing before him, who again spoke: "Eh, my young fellow, where do you come from?"
Fritz was now wholly master of himself, and whilst Mina slowly awoke, and like himself gazed round her with astonishment, he related to the farmer where they came from, and the journey they were upon, in proof of which he showed him his father's silver watch and the map of the journey which he had drawn.
"Indeed! you are going to Barenburg, then; I know the housekeeper very well; she is a very good lady; but it is twelve full miles there, every inch! In what condition are your feet for walking?"
Fritz sprang up, and felt himself again ready for the march; Mina's limbs, however, were stiff from the rest; and when she began to walk, it was with difficulty.
"Nay, that young lass is not used to such long walks," said the farmer good-naturedly; "she can get as far as my house down yonder, and then we must see what is to be done."
And what a beautiful, substantial farm-house they were taken to, with the pretty garden in front, and the splendid meadow behind, and the nice cool parlour, which was shaded from the sun by the projecting thatch; and then what a kind farmer's wife she was, who set before them delicious butter-milk and new-baked cakes, for they had that morning been baking. The children were overjoyed. Mina had heard and read a great deal about the dangers of the world, but if everywhere throughout the world people were as good as these, it could not be so very bad. The farmer's wife, who had been born and brought up at this farm, and had never in all her life been farther from home than Disselsburg, felt great compassion for the children, who had come such a long way. She would not therefore hear of them again setting out before dinner, although they had partaken so largely of cake and butter-milk that they were in no condition to do much honour to the excellent buttered oatmeal porridge, of which the dinner principally consisted.
The children of the farmer, who also came hot and tired from the school, beheld with great astonishment the young travellers, who appeared to them to have such polished town manners, though Steinheim was anything but metropolitan. Before long, however, they became quite familiar, took them into the stable and showed them a calf and a young kid.
It was very agreeable to the children in this hospitable house, but the twelve full miles, of which the farmer had spoken, lay like a weight on Mina's soul. How could it possibly be so far to Barenburg Castle?
"Do you know what?" said the farmer, when, after dinner, they were thinking of again setting out. "I promised some time ago to take a waggon-load of straw to Kochendorf; I shall not be doing anything with the horses this afternoon, I will therefore have the straw loaded; you can ride nicely upon it, and from Kochendorf down to Barenburg is only a nice little mile and half, and in the cool of the evening I can drive home, and you reach the end of your journey."
No sooner said than done! Fritz thought it was rather a pity that the pedestrian journey upon which they had calculated so much had now dwindled down to a mere nothing; but Mina, not being ambitious in this way, accepted with the greatest delight a lofty seat on the soft bundles of straw. The beautiful butter that her mother had sent by them for Mrs. Dote was becoming soft from the heat by this time, therefore the kind farmer's wife exchanged it for some of her own, which was fresh, of a much finer colour and quality, and quite firm from having been kept in ice-cold water.
Towards evening, a little shaken, but at the same time nicely rocked as in a cradle, for the waggon travelled slowly, the children reached Kochendorf. The waggoner helped them down from their lofty throne-like seat; Mina carefully picked off from Fritz and herself all the straws that hung dangling about them, then taking up their knapsack and basket, after a friendly leave of the kind farmer, they followed in the cool of the evening, with renewed strength and cheerful hearts, the road that was pointed out to them.
It was at first a narrow green path between thick hedges, where they could scarcely see many paces in advance; before long, however, it opened into a broad, magnificent avenue of old lime-trees, which, now in flower, filled the air with a delicious fragrance. With beating hearts and full of a strange expectation, the children pursued this road which seemed already very grand, and unlike anything they had been accustomed to.