The aunt never stopped wailing the entire day.
When the mother that night came to Willi's bed to say his prayers with him she did not find him sitting happily on his bed as usual, eager to detain her for a long talk. He was crouched together and did not look up at her when she sat down beside him. Nor did he speak.
"Willi, what is the matter?" asked the mother. "Something is troubling you. Did you do something wicked?"
Willi gave forth an incomprehensible sound, which was neither yes nor no.
"Come, say your evening song, Willi. Maybe that will open your heart," said the mother again.
Willi began:
"The moon is now ascending,
The golden stars are lending
Their beauty to the night."
But he prayed mechanically, constantly listening to every sound outside. He also gazed at the door, as if something dreadful might enter at any moment. From his restless glances, one could see that he was suffering from some inner terror. When he came to the end of his song:
"Oh, take us in Thy keeping,
Dear Lord, while we are sleeping,
And watch o'er those in pain."
Willi burst into violent sobs, and tightly clinging to his mother, cried out, "The child won't ever be able to sleep again, and God will punish us frightfully."