Toni and Hans at last became seriously alarmed about their little sister. She got gradually paler and thinner, and when, one day, after dancing for some time, with flushed cheek and shortened breath, she fell to the ground in a faint, they could endure it no longer, but ran to their uncle, beseeching him to have pity on her.
I am sorry to tell you, the poor boys were only answered by blows, and making nothing of their grief, he walked carelessly away, saying she would be better after her dinner. This was too much for Hans; he jumped up from the floor where he had been sitting, and stamping his foot, his face glowing with anger, cried out, “I shall not allow her to dance any more!” to which he, of course, received only a scornful laugh in reply.
Nanny had by this time revived, and was sitting between her brothers wiping away her tears.
“Oh! if father and mother knew of this,” said Hans, “I think it would make them weep even in heaven; but perhaps then they would send an angel to help us.”
“We do not know whether they can see us or not,” answered Toni; “but we are sure the good God can. I have been asking Him to put into our minds what we shall do for Nanny. Sometimes I am afraid she will leave us like father and mother did. And do you know I feel as solemn as little Samuel must have done when God called him, for a thought has come into my mind which I am sure must have been put there by our Father in heaven.”
“And what is it?” asked Hans, in a whisper, folding his little hands, as if inspired by the devotion of his brother.
“Why, that we must save our sister, and not let her die,” answered Toni.
“That would be glorious; but how shall we manage it?”
“We must run away from this place with her and take her to our grandfather, in the mountains.”