Upon the other side of the bed, that stood with its head to the wall, were two silent figures, the father and the schoolmaster. The latter gazed down upon the child with hands clasped as if in prayer, while the father leaned against the wall, his face hidden in his hands. He looked up now, and said with emotion but with resignation, "Be quiet, wife, and let us bear it as well as we can. If we must lose the child, she is too good for us,--I almost believe so now."
"Father dear," said Käthchen, "if you talk so, I must cry, and then you will cry more."
Herr Leonhardt plucked the man by the sleeve, and whispered, "The child ought to be kept perfectly quiet. Rouse yourself, and send these women away."
"So I say," said Johannes, who had stood for a few minutes unobserved upon the threshold of the door. "I pray you, good women, leave us to ourselves. So many people in this small room worry the child. Your friendly interest is very grateful; show it now by withdrawing."
The kindly neighbours willingly departed, he was such a handsome, pleasant gentleman who requested them to do so. The priest also look his leave; the schoolmaster only, at a sign from Johannes, remained.
Outside, there was no end to the questions and answers, as to how all was going on within, and how Käthchen, usually so nimble, could have got under the carriage-wheels. She was indeed a good little child, for it was at last ascertained that she had escaped herself and was perfectly safe, when she turned back to rescue a smaller child, a neighbour's little boy, who was standing still in the middle of the road. The boy escaped, but his poor little preserver was thrown down by the horses, and so severely injured.
"She is a dear pet--Käthchen," the men declared; and the women cried, "Oh, if you could see her now lying there in bed, you would believe that she was half in heaven already."
She was indeed in heaven, as is every true, pure child; for there is a heaven so close to the earth that only little children can walk beneath its canopy. We have grown up away from it; its glories are veiled from our eyes; it lies below us, like golden clouds around a mountain upon whose summit we are standing.
"Well, Käthchen, how are you now?" asked Johannes, stepping up to the bedside.
"Very well, thank you," said Käthchen dutifully, as she had been taught to reply.