At first their course was to the southwest from the Kloster, and in this direction they had gone for some miles, and though in the darkness that soon came upon them they went slowly through the thick woods, the captors not seeming inclined to be harsh to our sister, yet so oft did she stumble and the swinging branches strike and sting her face that she was compelled to stop for rest.
But now, though our sister understood not their speech, the red man and the old woman seemed to be disputing, the former wanting, our sister made out, to go back to the mountains, for thus he would point while the witch would shake her head and beckon to the southwest; but at last she consented to the red man's persuasion, for suddenly they changed almost directly about, so that for a moment our sister had the cheering hope they were going to take her back to the Kloster.
This hope, however, lasted not long, for instead of returning to the Kloster her captors soon turned toward the mountains. Beyond the spiteful glances the witch would cast at our sister there seemed no inclination to injure her; but though the way through the valley had been rough it was as naught to the unbroken path up the steep hillside in the darkness of the night, for they had no light, only that the red man went ahead as freely as though it were midday, with our sister next to him, and back of her the witch, to prevent escape.
At last they came to the great rock, from whose top a view could be had down over the valley of the Cocalico. The red man having ascended the high stone looked long and carefully in the direction of the Kloster. All at once he called the witch to him and pointed out something of great interest to both, causing Genoveva to climb upon the rock and look in the direction he was pointing. She saw now and then a light moving down from what she guessed to be Mount Sinai toward the Cocalico in the direction she and her captors had taken, and she doubted not that some one was coming to her rescue.
But though her hope was again revived it was but for a brief season, for heavy clouds had gathered after nightfall, and even while yet on the rock a few scattering drops of rain fell, so that her captors after a few moments more of careful examination of the valley proceeded up the hill and led her to this hiding-place. Hardly had they reached its shelter when the rain came down, and she knew as it came faster and faster none of us would be able to find their trail.
In this lonely spot she had been all these months with no other companion than this strange woman, who seldom spoke to our sister, but would often sit muttering to herself. Sometimes she would leave her hiding-place, and be gone for days and even weeks at a time, and had it not been that the red man, who seemed to have a shelter somewhere nigh, had supplied Sister Genoveva with the flesh of wild animals and other food she would have starved; for when the witch was absent our sister had thought to make her escape, but every time before she had gone far the red man would suddenly appear, and without saying a word lead her back to the hut.
Nor could she learn from him the reason of her capture and who the witch was, as he—according to the silent nature of Indians—would say nothing more than that the witch was friend to his tribe, "Conestogas," had often taken care of them in sickness, and was regarded by his people as having wonderful powers.
Thus day after day and night after night she lived here during all the cold of winter, though snugly enough housed within the shelter of these pines, that sometimes with all her hope and faith, it seemed she must go mad; but she never failed, no matter whether rain or snow or biting cold, to rise at the midnight hour and seek peace and comfort in praise and prayer. Often she heard the clear tones of the Kloster bell, even at this far-off height, if the wind were not in the contrary direction, and saw the cheering lights that shone out from Mount Sinai and from the wide scattered settlers' huts throughout the valley, so that she felt not utterly alone in the world.
Then she came to that which she knew I most cared to hear, and that was how Sonnlein had come to her. And the manner of this has always seemed to me little less than miraculous, for it is beyond me to explain it otherwise. All that night that Sonnlein was with Brother Benno and me in the chapter house, our sister—the witch at that time being in her hiding-place—could find no rest. It seemed impossible for her to fall asleep. She held her usual midnight devotions from the rock looking down toward the Kloster, so that she might feel she were praying with us, and though this gave her some peace, yet when she returned again to the hut and lay down to sleep she found no rest; but toward the morning she finally fell asleep, but only to have it filled with a strange dream; for it seemed to her she saw Sonnlein lying on a hard couch in one of our Kammers, worn and wasted and suffering from some great illness, and then suddenly he arose from his couch and rushed from his cell and out of Zion down over the hill toward the Cocalico, calling her name, once, twice, a number of times, whereat she struggled to go to him but could not! She awoke with a great start only to hear a heavy storm roaring all about her; but though she knew she was awake she still saw, or imagined she saw, Sonnlein rush through the creek and into the woods on the other side, as though he were coming directly to her.
At first she tried to shake the matter from her mind as merely a dream, but she could not do so. Something even against her own persuading seemed to tell her that Sonnlein was seeking her, that she must go to meet him, and ere she knew what she was about she found herself outside the hut, rushing in all the storm down the mountain as fast as she could, the witch closely following.