CHAPTER VIII

MORE UNEXPECTED EVENTS

STEFELI'S summer was more pleasant than had seemed possible when Vinzi went away. Mr. Delrick never started on one of his long walks without asking, "Is Stefeli coming with me?"

As Stefeli did not go to the pasture after Vinzi had left, the mother never lost an opportunity to send her outdoors with Mr. Delrick, for the little girl fretted because she had to sit about the house so much. She was always highly pleased when she heard the welcome question and could lay aside the knitting of the long stocking to skip about in the meadows. Stefeli told her escort all sorts of things, what she had done out on the pasture, and all about the life in the home, as well as the ambitions and ideals of father, mother, Vinzi and herself.

It was in this way that Mr. Delrick learned the history of the Lesa family, but he became intimate with the life of the three members of the household in another manner also.

Vinzenz Lesa liked to spend his leisure evening hours on the bench outside the door, where he could enjoy the pleasant odor of the walnut leaves wafted to him on the evening air. There he smoked his pipe, and was pleased when Mr. Delrick sat beside him and they discussed the topics of the day.

With Mrs. Lesa, he held an altogether different kind of conversation. Their talk always concerned the same subject, and that was Vinzi. She had told him how all Vinzi's happiness from early childhood had been centered on music, and how his father had centered his ambition in the determination that the boy should follow in his footsteps.

Mr. Delrick had deep sympathy for the mother, and tried to comfort her by saying that young lads such as Vinzi often evince an enthusiasm, only to drop it when a happy future lay before them, such as had come to Vinzi. At the same time he understood how anxiety pervaded her days and how her thoughts would dwell on the subject. And since he believed it lightened the mother's heart to discuss the matter, he often led their conversation back to Vinzi, and listened sympathetically to all she said.

In this way he had become the special friend and confidant of each member of the house, and Stefeli, as well as her father and mother, would say, "We will have to ask Mr. Delrick; he is sure to know," whenever a question came up which they could not answer at once; or when there was something they worried about, they would say, "We must consult Mr. Delrick; he can certainly advise us."

Therefore when the good news came down from the mountain that both old and young loved Vinzi and that he had brought them all great happiness, Mr. Delrick took as lively an interest in the report as though he belonged to the family. The mother listened in silence but both he and the father expressed the hope that the boy had begun to find joy in those things which were connected with his future career, and now Mr. Delrick prayed that the little family to which he had become so attached was to be reunited and find happiness before he left them.

The day came when Father Lesa told his wife in the presence of Mr. Delrick that he had met an old friend who was driving to the mountain, and he had instructed him to bring Vinzi back, and they should arrive in five days.

The mother's heart throbbed with joy and Stefeli in her excitement could not sit still, but ran about restlessly. She kept counting the days, thinking they could not be lived through, but wonderful to relate the fifth day arrived with unexpected swiftness.

She had just returned from a walk with Mr. Delrick when her father came in from the field and said, "Vinzi may arrive at any minute. Let us have supper ready so he can sit down with us."

Mr. Delrick was summoned, and they began to eat, though Stefeli could scarcely swallow her food, and things went no better with her mother.

"Here he comes!" suddenly cried the child and she dashed out of the door.

None of the others had heard anything, but a few moments afterward Stefeli came in triumphantly holding Vinzi by the hand. The joy of the parents was not expressed in words, but one could easily see the father's pride as he looked at his son and led him up to Mr. Delrick.

The latter gave him a keen look, for his mind had dwelt on the lad for many weeks and now he thought, "I can easily understand why the mother is so devoted to him and how his father's hopes center in him, for he is certainly a fine appearing lad."

His father asked how he had liked the pasture up there and Vinzi described in ecstasy how the violets ladened the air with their perfume and tall larches spread their wide branches over the moss-covered stones, while the cows grazed so peacefully that their bells tinkled softly like a song of peace.

His mother asked if he had found pretty flowers up there too, and Vinzi waxed still more enthusiastic as he told how the field of roses made such a vivid glow it looked like fire.

Vinzi also described his sleeping quarters and said how dear the place had become to him—the little house that was filled with the fragrance of the haymow.

Both father and mother were amazed at their boy; he had never spoken with such assurance and enthusiasm.

The mother thought, "Our Vinzi is not the same as when he left us. He has begun a new life. What will happen now?"

The father had much the same impression for he said to himself, "Vinzi is different. He has found himself and knows what he wants."

The next morning Stefeli was up bright and early, for the joy of knowing Vinzi was home banished sleep. Just as she was about to knock on his door, it opened and Vinzi stepped out dressed and ready for the day.

Stefeli drew back in astonishment and exclaimed, "You're up frightfully early! You didn't use to do so and I was going to call you."

"Well, you see now I can do it too," said Vinzi, laughing at her surprise. "I always got up very early on the mountain. When one is impatient for the happiness the day is to bring, one is glad to jump out of bed. It's a habit with me now."

"What made you so happy up there?"

"Come along and I'll tell you about it," said Vinzi, going downstairs.

His father stood in the doorway, to forecast the weather, for he had just stepped out of his bedroom. Now he turned around.

"What, already?" he said in surprise. "That is a good sign. You learned something up there, Vinzi, that is worth while, for you did not use to be the first one up in the morning. Come, let us stroll over to the walnut trees until mother calls us to breakfast. The trees are making splendid growth, and the grass is thick under them too. Perhaps you can see that things here at home are lovely too, better than you did before. Do you?"

"Oh, yes!" declared Vinzi with his whole heart, looking up at the dense foliage of the walnut trees, under which he had always liked to tarry.

"You have seen how fine farm life is up there, and have learned to enjoy it. It is just as fine down here with us, and to cultivate a farm such as ours and to call it one's own is best of all."

"I could wish for something even better than that," said Vinzi with hesitation and then was silent.

His father looked at him in consternation.

"Listen, Vinzi! I am glad you have been happy up on the mountain; I haven't a word to say against it, but I am wondering what you have found up there that is better than what is down here. Tell me what it is."

"The loveliest thing up there is the harmonium in the hospice, and above everything else in the world I wish to learn to play it as Father Silvanus does."

Vinzenz Lesa darted a piercing look at his son. He stood silent a while, then: "Do you really mean what you say, Vinzi, or is it a joke?"

"I really mean just what I say," replied Vinzi.

"Well, then," said his father, "I will say something so you will know what I think of the matter. I sent you up the mountain to learn from a merry lot of boys how to enjoy farm work, for you really must learn to like it. I believed your eyes had been opened, that you had found yourself and come to your senses. But now I find you are every bit as childish as when you went away, with nothing but nonsense about music in your head. I hope I'll find a way to bring you to your senses yet and to make you see your good fortune. I certainly never thought you could get such fancies up there. You shall never go up there again. I'll find some other remedy."

Vinzi listened quietly to all his father said, though the words seemed to crush him, and when his father turned and went back to the house, he threw himself on the ground and tried to stifle his sobs by burying his face in the grass. He had surmised all along that his father would ignore his wishes about music and had cherished no hope of any other outcome. But he had firmly counted on returning to the mountain, and now that prospect was gone.

"Vinzi, you are to—" but Stefeli's voice suddenly ceased as she came nearer and heard him sobbing. "Oh, Vinzi, what is the matter?" she asked. "You must come into the house. If you can stop going on like this you must come to breakfast. Father is already at the table and mother sent me to fetch you quickly."

[Illustration]

Vinzi jumped up and ran over to the pump, and bathed his eyes again and again to remove all traces of tears.

"You're all right; come along now," urged Stefeli. "Mr. Delrick never comes down to breakfast, father takes no notice and mother, will say nothing. Do come along!"

The two went in, and when Vinzi took his seat with bowed head, his father gave him one keen glance. Then he pushed away his half-empty cup, rose, and went outdoors. The sight of tears always upset Vinzenz Lesa, particularly those of his son, who was more precious to him than all his possessions.

"What is the matter with father?" asked the mother, and when Vinzi raised his head, she exclaimed, "Oh, and what is the matter with you?"

Try as he would, Vinzi could not say a word, and laying his head on his arms, he sobbed aloud.

Stefeli swallowed her milk and ran out of the room to escape the sight of her mother's anxious face. "Oh, if Mr. Delrick would only come!" she sighed; for Stefeli had noticed that when her father and mother sought his advice, every difficulty seemed to disappear. Now that things were so topsy-turvy, he could surely help.

Mr. Delrick was coming down the stairs from his room as Stefeli rushed out, and when she ran up to him and seized his hand, he asked kindly, "Are you ready to start? Are you coming with me for a morning walk?"

Stefeli had hoped he would ask this very question and gladly went off with him. She quickly poured into his ear how Vinzi had cried till his eyes were red and swollen, how her father had not finished his coffee, but had pushed the cup aside and hurried off, and now her mother was sadder than she had ever seen her.

"But you will make everything all right again," concluded Stefeli with great confidence.

"I will do whatever I can," he promised.

The child's words gave him food for thought. He wondered if the mother's fears had become a fact, and the thought caused him the greater anxiety because he planned to depart within a few days to meet a friend at the Italian lakes.

When the two returned to the house, matters did not appear to be much better. Vinzi had told his mother at last how his father's words had shattered all his hopes, and she had tried to console him by saying he might change his mind; Vinzi should try to do his father's pleasure and show an interest in the tasks he set him. Then his father would surely allow him to return to the mountain.

But Vinzi shook his head and said, "Father will never let me go again. He thinks I find pleasure up there in something he does not want me to do, and that is true. I understand now what he means, though I did not before."

His mother could say no more, for she believed Vinzi was right. What would happen next? Would he be sent away again? If so, where? Her husband had an older brother, and the two men had managed the farm at Freiburg which they had inherited from their father. When they had inherited the estate in Leuk from their cousin, Vinzenz had decided to live on it, for if it was to be brought into good condition again after having been sadly neglected, he would have to look after it himself. Her husband's brother was as silent and unsociable as the old cousin who had lived in Leuk, and he looked as much the savage too. Vinzenz had left an old servant with him on the Freiburg farm who knew how to do everything just as Vinzenz wanted it. His brother was averse to undertaking anything new, and kept postponing all personal effort in the hope that his brother would soon return.

Mrs. Lesa knew that there had been eccentric people in the Lesa family and suddenly a new fear arose in her heart. If the father decided to send Vinzi to the Freiburg estate in order to interest him in the work and management of a farm, there would be nothing but solitude for him there. Might not the boy, who had always been different from other children, grow still more peculiar if he lived with his eccentric uncle? It was said the old cousin at Leuk used to sit in front of his barn for hours at a time and stare fixedly into space, and the people had called him Starri of Leuk.* The Freiburg uncle was said to do the same thing and as such nicknames are passed along and everyone knew the Lesa family originally came from Leuk, he also was called Starri of Leuk.

* The Starer of Leuk.

When she reached this point in her thinking, she was more anxious than ever. Her husband's grievance against his son was that he was always staring into the distance, never seeing or hearing what went on before his eyes. What if her lively young son should become the third Starri of Leuk?

She was roused from her dark forebodings by Stefeli's sudden entrance. She had come to tell her mother that Mr. Delrick had returned from his morning walk and was now talking to Vinzi in his room. Mrs. Lesa hurried to prepare her lodger's breakfast, which was not ready for him because he had returned much earlier than usual.

Mr. Delrick was well aware of Vinzi's lifelong passion for music, and he also knew the father's will and wish, and that he had sent his son to the mountain in order to accomplish his purpose. But he had not learned from Stefeli's eager story what had roused the father's anger and caused the son's tears so soon after the joyful homecoming. He took such a lively interest in the joys and sorrows of the Lesa family that he felt he must learn if he could help now in any way. He was to be with them such a very short time that he had hurried back from his walk to talk to the brooding Vinzi. Sitting down beside him, he told him he would be traveling over the Simplon in two days, and if Vinzi had any messages for his friends, he would gladly carry them.

Vinzi's face brightened at this news, and he asked with intense longing, "Are you going to see Father Silvanus and the grandfather?"

"I do not know who they are," answered Mr. Delrick. "Tell me about them, and about all your experiences up there."

Vinzi opened his heart. How he talked of all that occupied his thoughts! Mr. Delrick showed such quick sympathy that he could tell him all about the friends and the music that had made him so happy on the mountain. And now he would be glad to do whatever work was to be done, and would do it happily, even to giving up playing or even hearing any more music, if only he could hope to return to the mountain next summer and go to Father Silvanus every morning. But his father had said that could not be. His account shed new light on the matter, and after a while Mr. Delrick said, "Tell me, Vinzi, did Father Silvanus ask you to try to carry on your music at home or did he only mean that he wished you to continue your lessons if you went back to him?"

Vinzi reported what the priest had advised and that he had said it would be impossible as he knew his father would not allow such a thing.

"You wish to learn to play an instrument for your own pleasure, Vinzi?" inquired Mr. Delrick. "Have you thought of making music your life work? Or could you not imagine such a thing?"

Vinzi's eyes flamed.

"Oh, yes, I could! I kept thinking about it while I was up on the mountain, more each day. I can very well imagine what that would be!" Vinzi assured him. "I would like not only to play an instrument but want to know all about music, like Father Silvanus. He knows everything and can explain how the notes are put together so they make harmony, and how to write them down so that one can read them from the page. He started to teach me all that, and it is so lovely and so wonderful! Oh, I would gladly shovel snow all day and do all kinds of hard labor in order to stay up there the whole winter if I might be with Father Silvanus, for he would continue teaching me. He said so." Vinzi found it difficult to suppress his rising grief.

"You see, Vinzi, your father has only your welfare at heart," explained Mr. Delrick kindly. "You know that yourself, and I can assure you it is so. He made this decision because he thinks your life up on the mountain would stand in the way of your happiness. But time brings many changes, and he may not hold to this idea. It is altogether wrong for you to keep repeating those words; they only make you sad. Did you not find good fortune and happiness where you expected only sorrow and pain? Remember that, Vinzi; it will give you courage."

While they had been talking, Mrs. Lesa had gone in and out of the room, setting the breakfast table, and it did much for her peace of mind to see the two talking and to know the boy was paying close attention to Mr. Delrick's words.

"Now, Vinzi, pull yourself together and be happy that you are home again," advised Mr. Delrick, getting up from his chair. "Show your father a happy face when he comes home and be willing to do the work he wishes you to do. Then everything will come out right. Will you think over what I have said?"

Vinzi readily promised and when Mr. Delrick left the room looked up at his mother with brighter eyes.

The day passed quietly, for all felt depressed and the merry mood of the evening before had vanished. When evening came and Vinzenz sat out on his bench as usual, his forehead was drawn into deep wrinkles and he let his pipe go out as he stared at the ground.

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Mr. Delrick now stepped up to him and as he struck a match and offered it to his host, he remarked, "You are not in a good humor, Mr. Lesa, or you would not let your pipe go out. Here, light it again."

"Humor, humor indeed!" repeated Mr. Lesa savagely. "When a field is destroyed by hail, one may hope the next year will bring a crop. But when one's only son goes from bad to worse, where is there any hope?"

"So far as I can judge, you have a well-trained and honest son, Mr. Lesa," said Mr. Delrick calmly.

"There is nothing to complain about in that respect," replied the father. "But what's to be done when a father tries to see that all his son has to do is to enjoy his good fortune, and the boy does not see it or know what is best for him, and doesn't wish to learn anything but childish stuff? But I will not give up until Vinzi returns to his senses, even if I have to send him across the ocean. However, there is a place nearer where his childishness will find no support, that's a sure thing."

"You mean your son's love of music and his wish to devote himself to it? That may be something quite different from childishness; it may be something very serious on his part."

"Something very serious!" repeated the roused father. "It is play, just like anything else. I would have nothing against it if the boy amused himself singing merry songs in the leisure of the evening, but that's not his way. He sits and gazes ahead without seeing or hearing anything; he thinks only about his piping. Once I found a whole pile of pipes he had carved, stowed away in the haymow—children's toys on which he put all his thought!"

"But that shows how earnest he is in his longing for music," replied Mr. Delrick. "If it were only play like any other game, he would have dropped it for something else long since, after the way of boys. His mind would not cling so to one thing. And his perseverance in trying to make each instrument better so it would meet his requirements shows how great his zeal is. I am convinced this is no play with him but has become his serious work."

"Work! Do you call such a thing work?" and in his anger Vinzenz Lesa puffed unusually thick clouds out of his pipe.

"Certainly music can be work, and where there is genius, it can become a high calling," continued Mr. Delrick. "I think, Mr. Lesa, you should let your son learn an instrument. His desire for it is so intense, he would undertake any kind of work with pleasure in order to fulfil his wish."

Vinzenz Lesa laid his pipe aside, and that with him was a sign of greatest agitation.

"Sir," he said, restraining his anger with difficulty, "the only son of Vinzenz Lesa shall not be a musician. He has a farm on which he can live like a gentleman. If he wants to blow a trumpet later on as much as he wants to now, he can afford to do so. But it is quite a different matter to lead a boy away from a profitable and proper calling and train him to play instruments and write music. Vinzi has no common sense, for he tells me what you have just said: that he wants to take up music as his occupation. No, sir, the son of Vinzenz Lesa shall never become a wandering minstrel!"

"It is not necessary for a musician to be a wanderer," Mr. Delrick declared. "There are many musicians, gifted men, who practise their calling in quite a different manner."

"They come to one's door," continued the enraged father, "many hundreds of them. The man with a broken fiddle, the woman with a screeching voice, both clothed in rags. That's the end of them all! Sir, if you had an only son, would you make a musician of him?"

"Surely not one like you describe," answered Mr. Delrick, "but if I had a son with the talent which makes a great composer, I know nothing would hinder me from helping him fulfil his desire."

"My lad does not have such a gift, that is sure," declared the father obstinately. "Such genius is not often found. Believe me, sir, when Vinzi comes to his senses, he will be glad enough that he lives on a fine farm and is its owner instead of being a wandering musician."

Mr. Delrick confessed he did not know how much talent for music Vinzi possessed; he only knew of the boy's intense delight in it. He also felt that Vinzenz Lesa's opinion about a musician's life was not to be changed with words. One question had arisen, however. How could he decide whether he would be justified in trying to overcome the father's aversion or whether he ought to give him his support and aid in bringing his son into the right path?

"Mr. Lesa," he said as he rose and held out his hand, "we will talk no more about it now, for it seems we can't come to any understanding today. But we will discuss it again, when I hope we will agree, for we have always gotten along well with one another until now."

"We have that," replied Vinzenz Lesa, shaking the outstretched hand. "And when we do not hold the same opinion, still I know that you mean well."

On the following day, the last before Mr. Delrick departed, it was so silent and sad in the house that one might have supposed a great misfortune was impending.

Stefeli had thought that when Vinzi was once more at home there would be nothing but happiness in the house. Now it was just the opposite and the only one who could help them was leaving.

Mr. Delrick had told Mrs. Lesa of his conversation with her husband, but declared in spite of it, he still hoped to find a way out for Vinzi. However, she could entertain no such view and saw only disaster ahead. Even if her husband yielded to Mr. Delrick's persuasion, he would never be reconciled and there would always be dissension between father and son. Only one person could avoid this and he was going away.

Vinzi thought that if he only could talk everything over again with Mr. Delrick, joy and confidence would be restored, but this was impossible since he was departing.

Mr. Lesa was under the impression that his wife and son did not understand what was necessary for the boy's welfare. The only one who would be likely to have such insight and bring the others to his viewpoint was now leaving them.

Mr. Delrick still had a kind word for one and all, but he could not lift them out of their depression.

As he withdrew to his own room on the last evening, there came a knock at his door and Vinzi stepped in. He was carrying two books and a little package, and asked timidly if Mr. Delrick would take them to his cousins. The little packet was for Russli; he had promised faithfully he would send it to him. The books were for Jos and Faz, for the boys had told him how glad they were to read on the long winter evenings, and as they had only a few books, they had to read them over and over again. Vinzi wanted him to carry his best wishes to all the cousins, and to the grandfather and Father Silvanus. Would he thank them for all they had done and say how much he would like to be with them, how glad he—but Vinzi could get no further. He said a hurried good-night and went off.

Mr. Delrick intended to return to Germany from the Italian lakes by another route. He hoped to return the next summer, which news was received by the Lesa family with much rejoicing, though Stefeli thought it was a very long time to wait. Early the next morning Mr. Delrick was on his way up to the Simplon.