Clara was very distressed at this news and tried hard to make her father change his mind, but he stood firm, only promising that if she was sensible and did not make a fuss, he would take her to Switzerland the following year. Then, seeing there were no two ways about it, she gave in, but she begged that, as a small consolation, Heidi’s trunk should be brought to her room to be packed, so that she could put in some nice things which Heidi would like. To this her father willingly agreed.
By this time Detie had arrived and was wondering uneasily why she had been sent for at such an unearthly hour. Mr Sesemann repeated to her what he had learnt about Heidi’s condition. ‘I want you to take her home at once, this very day,’ he said. Detie was very upset, remembering how Uncle Alp had told her never to show her face again upon the mountain. To have to take Heidi back to him like this, after the way she had carried her off, was asking too much of her.
‘Please do excuse me,’ she said glibly, ‘but it is not possible for me to go today, nor yet tomorrow. We’re very busy, and I really couldn’t even ask for the day off just now. Indeed, I don’t quite know when I could manage it.’
Mr Sesemann saw through her excuses, and sent her away without another word. He told Sebastian instead to prepare himself at once for a journey.
‘You’ll take the child as far as Basle today,’ he said, ‘and go on with her to her home tomorrow. I’ll give you a letter for her grandfather so there will be no need for you to explain anything and you can come straight back here. When you get to Basle, go to the hotel whose name I’ve written on this visiting card. I’m well known there, and when you show it you’ll be given a good room for the child, and they’ll find a room for you too. And now listen to me,’ he went on, ‘this is very important. You must make sure all the windows in her room are shut securely so that she can’t open them. Then, once she’s in bed, you are to lock her bedroom door on the outside for she walks in her sleep, and in a strange house it might be very dangerous if she wandered downstairs and tried to open the front door. Do you understand?’
‘So that’s what it was,’ exclaimed Sebastian, as the truth suddenly dawned upon him.
‘Yes, that was it. You’re a great coward and you can tell John he’s another. You made fine fools of yourselves, all of you!’ And with that Mr Sesemann went to his study to write to Uncle Alp. Somewhat shamefaced, Sebastian muttered to himself, ‘I wish I hadn’t let that idiot of a John push me back into the room, when he saw the figure in white! If only I’d gone after it. I certainly would if I saw it now.’ But of course by that time the sun was lighting up every corner of the room.
Meanwhile Heidi was waiting in her bedroom, dressed in her Sunday frock and wondering what was going to happen. Tinette considered her so far beneath her notice that she never threw her two words where one would do, and she had simply wakened her, told her to dress, and had taken her clothes out of the wardrobe.
When Mr Sesemann came back to the dining‐room with his letter, breakfast was on the table. ‘Where’s the child?’ he asked, and Heidi was at once fetched, and came in, giving him her usual ‘Good morning.’
‘Well, child, is that all you have to say?’ he inquired.
She looked at him questioningly.
‘I do believe nobody’s told you,’ he said with a smile. ‘You’re going home today.’
‘Home,’ she gasped, so overwhelmed that for the moment she could hardly breathe.
‘Well? Aren’t you pleased?’
‘Oh yes, I am,’ she said fervently, and the colour came into her cheeks.
‘That’s right. Now you must eat a good breakfast,’ and he took his place at the table and signed to her to join him. She tried hard but couldn’t swallow even a morsel of bread. She was not sure whether she was awake or still dreaming, and might not find herself presently standing at the front door again in her nightgown.
‘Tell Sebastian to take plenty of food with him,’ Mr Sesemann said to Miss Rottenmeier, as that lady came into the room. ‘The child is not eating anything at all — and that is not to be wondered at.’ He turned to Heidi. ‘Now go to Clara, my child, and stay with her until the carriage arrives.’ That was just what Heidi wanted to do, and she found Clara with a big trunk open beside her.
‘Come and look at the things I’ve had put in for you,’ Clara cried. ‘I hope you’ll like them. Look, there are frocks and aprons and hankies and some sewing things. Oh, and this!’ Clara held up a basket. Heidi peeped and jumped for joy, for inside were twelve beautiful rolls for Grannie. In their delight the children quite forgot that they were so soon to part, and when they heard someone call, ‘The carriage is here,’ there was no time to be sad. Heidi ran to the room which had been hers, to fetch the book which Grandmamma had given her. She always kept it under her pillow, for she could never bear to be parted from it, so she felt sure no one would have packed it. She put it in the basket. Then she looked in the cupboard and fetched out her precious old hat. Her red scarf was there too, for Miss Rottenmeier had not thought it worth putting in the trunk. Heidi wrapped it round her other treasure and put it on top of the basket where it was very conspicuous. Then she put on a pretty little hat which she had been given, and left the room.
She and Clara had to say goodbye quickly, for Mr Sesemann was waiting to put Heidi in the carriage, and Miss Rottenmeier was standing at the top of the stairs to say goodbye too. She saw the funny‐looking red bundle at once, and snatched it out of the basket and threw it on the floor. ‘Really, Adelheid,’ she scolded, ‘you can’t leave this house carrying a thing like that, and you won’t need it any more. Goodbye.’ After that Heidi did not dare to pick it up again, but she gave Mr Sesemann an imploring look.
‘Let the child take what she likes with her,’ he said sharply. ‘If she wanted kittens and tortoises too, there would be no reason to get so excited, Miss Rottenmeier.’
Heidi took up her precious bundle, her eyes shining with gratitude and happiness. ‘Goodbye,’ said Mr Sesemann, shaking hands before she got into the carriage. ‘Clara and I will often think of you. I hope you’ll have a good journey.’
‘Thank you for everything,’ said Heidi, ‘and please thank the doctor too, and give him my love.’ She remembered that the doctor had said that everything would be all right the next day, so she was sure he must have helped to make this come true. She was lifted into the carriage, the basket and a bag of provisions were handed up, then Sebastian got in.
‘Goodbye and a pleasant journey,’ Mr Sesemann called after them, as the carriage drove off.
Soon Heidi was sitting in the train, with the basket on her lap. She would not let go of it for an instant, because of the precious rolls inside. Every now and then she peeped at them and sighed with satisfaction. For a long time she spoke never a word, for she was only beginning to realize that she was really on her way home to Grandfather, and would see the mountains and Peter and Grannie. As she thought about them all, she suddenly grew anxious, and asked, ‘Sebastian, Peter’s Grannie won’t be dead, will she?’
‘Let’s hope not,’ he replied. ‘She’ll be alive all right, I expect.’
Heidi fell silent again, looking forward to the moment when she would actually give the rolls to her kind old friend. Presently she said again, ‘I wish I knew for certain that Grannie’s still alive.’