"Dora, Dora!" a wailing voice called down to the little garden of the neighboring cottage, and the next moment Dora hastened into the house from her place of observation. She had been so lost in everything she had partly seen and heard that she had not realized that she had been squatting on the ground for two full hours.
Upstairs, the aunt in grief and fright had pulled her belongings from the wardrobes and drawers and had piled them high as for immediate flight.
"Aunt Ninette," said Dora timidly, conscious of having remained away too long. "Don't be frightened any more. Look, it is dark again in the garden over there and all the lights are out."
Upon gazing over, the aunt saw that everything was dark and the last lights had been put out. Now a very dim lantern approached the apple tree. Probably somebody was setting things in order there.
"Oh, it is too terrible! Who could have guessed it!" moaned the aunt. "Go to bed now, Dora. We'll see tomorrow whether we shall move or leave the place entirely."
Dora quickly retired to her room but she could not go to sleep for a long, long while.
She saw before her the garden and the gleaming apple tree, heard the merry children's voices and also, their father's pleasant, happy words. She could not help thinking of her own dear father who had always been willing to listen to her, and she realized how fortunate her little neighbors were. She had felt so drawn to the children and their kind parents, that the thought of moving away from the house quite upset her. She could not go to sleep for a long, long while, for her mind was filled with the recent impressions. Finally her own beloved father seemed to be gazing down at her and saying the comforting words as he used to do:
"'Yet God keeps watch above us
And doeth all things well.'"
These words were still in her mind as she went to sleep, while the lights, the gleaming tree and merry children across the way followed her into her dreams.
After the fire was put out, Willi and Lili were found to be the culprits. Thinking that Rolf's riddle would look more beautiful if made transparent from behind like the inscription used every Christmas behind their tree, "Glory to God on High," they had fetched two lights. Then standing on a high step which had been used for fastening the inscription, they held the lights very near the riddle. When no joyful surprise was shown on any of the faces, they put the lights still nearer, till at last the paper was set on fire, catching the nearby branches. They owned up to their unfortunate undertaking at once and, in honor of the festive occasion, were sent to bed with only mild reproof. Of course they were forbidden to make further experiments with fire.