Всего за 5.99 руб. Купить полную версию
It is an ancient legend! said Atli quietly. What would you? In the course of centuries, many things come to be believed. It is certain that Pilatus is a stormy mountain, but that may come from many causes.
But when people have seen him! cried Zitli, his blue eyes flashing. When he is seen by mortal men, my brother!
Ah! if he is seen, that is another matter. Hast thou seen him, for example, my little one?
The giant spoke kindly, but there was evident amusement in his tone. Zitli blushed deeply.
Not I myself, he admitted; but when I was over there thou knowest, at the hospital in Lucerne I heard of those who had seen him. The uncle of one of the nurses look! one of his goats strayed from the flock and wandered on to the lower slope of that mountain, to the westward. The shepherd went in search of the creature, greatly fearing, but what would you? It was his duty! As he searched, suddenly from the wood stepped out a man, old, old, wearing a red robe of strange fashion, and with a terrible look spoke to the shepherd.
Oh! cried Honor. Oh, Zitli, how thrilling! What did he say?
He spoke in a strange tongue! No word of it was to be understood.
And did he look like a Roman?
Zitli shrugged his shoulders and spread his hands abroad with a quaint gesture. Can I tell, mademoiselle? I never saw a Roman, nor, we may suppose, did the shepherd. He looked, that one said, like Uncle Kissel.
Gretli gave a little murmur of deprecation; Honor pressed on, all eagerness.
Who is Uncle Kissel?
He is an old miser, mean and hateful, and ugly as sin
Zitli stopped short. Atli had laid down his tools, Gretli her knitting; both were looking at him very gravely. The blood rushed into the boys face, and his eyes dropped.
I I ask your pardon, brother and sister! he said. I forgot!
Atli spoke, more sternly than Honor had thought he could speak.
Uncle Kissel is a man of honesty and probity. He has never robbed or cheated any man.
He wastes nothing upon luxuries! Gretli added; her tone, though gentler, was still one of distinct rebuke. His fare is that of a hermit, and hermits are holy men.
A silence followed. The Twins continued to look at Zitli, but their look was now one of expectation. It was evident that they waited for him to speak. But Zitlis brow was clouded, and a dogged look crept over his thin, intelligent face. Honor looked from one to the other in wonder, but dared not break the silence.
Come, my little one! said Gretli, presently, in an encouraging tone. A word, is it not so? We wait, thy brother and I. Thou art not wont to make us wait, Zitli.
There is nothing more to say! muttered Zitli sullenly. You have said all there was.
The silence fell again: Honor began to be frightened. What was going to happen? The Twins sat like two mighty statues, grave, austere, expectant. Zitli sat looking at his tools, the picture of mute obstinacy. The clock ticked on the wall. There was no other sound.
Suddenly, from nowhere, as it seemed, a cat appeared, leaped lightly up on Zitlis table, proceeded to turn round and round, purring loudly, finally curled herself up in a gray ball among the tools and went to sleep. At first sight of the creature, the boys face relaxed. He bent over her, caressing, murmuring words of affection, then suddenly he looked up, and his own sunny smile broke out.
He has a cat! he announced. Uncle Kissel has a cat, and he feeds her; I saw him one day. Will that do, Brother and Sister?
Gretli was her own beaming self again; she threw an appealing glance at Atli, and met one equally benign.
Kindness to animals! she cried. That is a virtue, if you will. All is now well, little one beloved; thy word is the best of the three. And now, she added, rising, it is thy bed-time, Zitli, and also Mademoiselle Honor must seek rest. Let us thank the all-merciful Father for another day!
The three knelt down, while Honor, forbidden by a gesture to move, bowed her head; Atli gave thanks as simply and heartily as if the Father he adored were present in mortal guise; in the silence that followed, Honor felt her heart lifted higher than it had ever been before.
A little later, while rubbing her ankle, Gretli explained to Honor. Mademoiselle did not wholly understand,
was it not so? That was but natural; it was a matter of family, did she see? It was a rule of their beloved mother, now with the saints, that if any ill were spoken of a person, it must be followed by some good.
As is but just! Gretli nodded emphatically, rubbing away methodically. We are compact of good and evil, the mother would say, no human creature but has something of both. Since the good God made us, there must be more of good than of evil, yet it often chances that we see the evil first, because it thrusts itself forth, like a loose stone on a slippery Alp, hoping to do mischief; thus, it is our duty at once to look for the good. Thus said our sainted mother; and thus it is our custom to allow no evil to be spoken of any person without a good word being added by each one of the family.