Once at school, when we were eleven, I upset my ink and spoiled four copy-books, and was in danger of severe punishment; but I put it upon him, and he got the whipping.
And only last year I had cheated him in a trade, giving him a large fish-hook which was partly broken through for three small sound ones.The first fish he caught broke the hook, but he did not know I was blamable, and he refused to take back one of the small hooks which my conscience forced me to offer him, but said, "A trade is a trade; the hook was bad, but that was not your fault."No, I could not sleep.These little, shabby wrongs upbraided me and tortured me, and with a pain much sharper than one feels when the wrongs have been done to the living.Nikolaus was living, but no matter; he was to me as one already dead.The wind was still moaning about the eaves, the rain still pattering upon the panes.
In the morning I sought out Seppi and told him.It was down by the river.His lips moved, but he did not say anything, he only looked dazed and stunned, and his face turned very white.He stood like that a few moments, the tears welling into his eyes, then he turned away and Ilocked my arm in his and we walked along thinking, but not speaking.We crossed the bridge and wandered through the meadows and up among the hills and the woods, and at last the talk came and flowed freely, and it was all about Nikolaus and was a recalling of the life we had lived with him.And every now and then Seppi said, as if to himself:
"Twelve days!--less than twelve days."
We said we must be with him all the time; we must have all of him we could; the days were precious now.Yet we did not go to seek him.It would be like meeting the dead, and we were afraid.We did not say it, but that was what we were feeling.And so it gave us a shock when we turned a curve and came upon Nikolaus face to face.He shouted, gaily:
"Hi-hi! What is the matter? Have you seen a ghost?"We couldn't speak, but there was no occasion; he was willing to talk for us all, for he had just seen Satan and was in high spirits about it.
Satan had told him about our trip to China, and he had begged Satan to take him a journey, and Satan had promised.It was to be a far journey, and wonderful and beautiful; and Nikolaus had begged him to take us, too, but he said no, he would take us some day, maybe, but not now.Satan would come for him on the 13th, and Nikolaus was already counting the hours, he was so impatient.
That was the fatal day.We were already counting the hours, too.
We wandered many a mile, always following paths which had been our favorites from the days when we were little, and always we talked about the old times.All the blitheness was with Nikolaus; we others could not shake off our depression.Our tone toward Nikolaus was so strangely gentle and tender and yearning that he noticed it, and was pleased; and we were constantly doing him deferential little offices of courtesy, and saying, "Wait, let me do that for you," and that pleased him, too.Igave him seven fish-hooks--all I had--and made him take them; and Seppi gave him his new knife and a humming-top painted red and yellow--atonements for swindles practised upon him formerly, as I learned later, and probably no longer remembered by Nikolaus now.These things touched him, and he could not have believed that we loved him so; and his pride in it and gratefulness for it cut us to the heart, we were so undeserving of them.When we parted at last, he was radiant, and said he had never had such a happy day.
As we walked along homeward, Seppi said, "We always prized him, but never so much as now, when we are going to lose him."Next day and every day we spent all of our spare time with Nikolaus; and also added to it time which we (and he) stole from work and other duties, and this cost the three of us some sharp scoldings, and some threats of punishment.Every morning two of us woke with a start and a shudder, saying, as the days flew along, "Only ten days left;" "only nine days left;" "only eight;" "only seven." Always it was narrowing.Always Nikolaus was gay and happy, and always puzzled because we were not.He wore his invention to the bone trying to invent ways to cheer us up, but it was only a hollow success; he could see that our jollity had no heart in it, and that the laughs we broke into came up against some obstruction or other and suffered damage and decayed into a sigh.He tried to find out what the matter was, so that he could help us out of our trouble or make it lighter by sharing it with us; so we had to tell many lies to deceive him and appease him.
But the most distressing thing of all was that he was always making plans, and often they went beyond the 13th! Whenever that happened it made us groan in spirit.All his mind was fixed upon finding some way to conquer our depression and cheer us up; and at last, when he had but three days to live, he fell upon the right idea and was jubilant over it--a boys-and-girls' frolic and dance in the woods, up there where we first met Satan, and this was to occur on the 14th.It was ghastly, for that was his funeral day.We couldn't venture to protest; it would only have brought a "Why?" which we could not answer.He wanted us to help him invite his guests, and we did it--one can refuse nothing to a dying friend.But it was dreadful, for really we were inviting them to his funeral.
It was an awful eleven days; and yet, with a lifetime stretching back between to-day and then, they are still a grateful memory to me, and beautiful.In effect they were days of companionship with one's sacred dead, and I have known no comradeship that was so close or so precious.
We clung to the hours and the minutes, counting them as they wasted away, and parting with them with that pain and bereavement which a miser feels who sees his hoard filched from him coin by coin by robbers and is helpless to prevent it.
