The mother's regular breathing soon told Wiseli that she was asleep; but the child remained quietly by her side for fear of waking her. Thus it happened that she too fell asleep, and the lamp burned on, growing fainter and fainter until it burned itself out and left the house dark in the quiet night.
Early the following morning a neighbor passed the window on her way to the well, and, glancing in as usual, she saw Wiseli crying beside the mother, who had her head pillowed on the window seat. She ran to the child, saying, "What is it, Wiseli? I hope your mother is not worse."
Wiseli only sobbed. The neighbor bent over the mother in surprise and alarm. "Go to your uncle quickly, Wiseli," she said; "tell him to come immediately. I will wait here until you get back."
The uncle's house was about fifteen minutes' walk from the church, and Wiseli ran on obediently, although the tears would not be kept back. Her aunt answered the knock at the door; seeing the child in tears she said gruffly, "What is the matter with you?"
"I have been sent over to get my uncle; my mother is dead," answered Wiseli, for she had reasoned it out to herself that it must be so or else the mother would speak to her.
The aunt softened perceptibly. "He is not here just now," she said almost kindly. "I will have him come as soon as possible, so you needn't wait."
It was not long after Wiseli's return that the uncle came. He directed the neighbor to look after everything so that he might take the child away at once.
"But where shall we go?" inquired Wiseli.
"You shall go home with me, for I am all that you have left now. I will take care of you."