Since it had come out that they had been so frightened, Clevi now told in detail about the horribly tall armoured knight with the high boots and the long cloak hanging down to his boot-tops.

"Was the mantle blue?" Loneli, who had been listening intensely, interrupted.

"It was night-time, and you can imagine we did not see the color clearly," Clevi said indignantly. "But the color has nothing to do with it, it was the length, the horrible, horrible length of that thing! It looked just too awful. He had a high helmet on his head besides, with a still higher bunch of black plumes that nodded in the most frightful way."

A gleam of joy sparkled in Loneli's eyes. Flying away like an arrow, she sought out Mrs. Maxa's house. Kurt was standing at the hawthorn hedge in front of the garden with his schoolbag still slung around him. He had not rushed in ahead of the others according to his custom.

With puckered brow he was pulling one leaf after another from the hedge.

Then he flung them all away, as if he wanted with each to rid himself of a disagreeable thought.

"Kurt," Loneli called to him, "please wait a moment. Don't go in yet, for I want to tell you something."

When Loneli stood beside Kurt she was suddenly filled with embarra.s.sment.

She knew exactly what she had to say, but it would sound as if she was trying to examine Kurt. This kept her from beginning.

"Tell me what you want, Loneli," Kurt encouraged her, when he saw her hesitation.

So Loneli began:

"I wanted to ask you if--if--oh, Kurt! Are you so sad on account of what happened at the castle and because you thought there was no ghost?"

"I don't want to hear anything more about it," Kurt said evasively, pulling a handful of leaves from the hedge and throwing them angrily to the ground.

"But it might only have been a man after all," Loneli continued quietly.

"Yes, yes, that is easily said, Loneli. How can you talk when you haven't even seen him?"

Kurt flung the last leaves away impatiently and tried to go. But Loneli would not yield.

"Just wait a moment, Kurt," she entreated. "It is true that I did not see him, but Clevi told me all about him. I know why he looked that way and why he was so enormous. I also know where he got the armour, the long blue mantle, and the high black plumes."

"What!" Kurt exclaimed, staring at Loneli as if she were a curious ghost herself. How can you know anything about it?"

"Certainly I know about it," Loneli a.s.sured him. "Listen! You must remember that grandmother lived a long time at the castle, so she has told me everything that went on up there. In the lowest story there is a huge old hall, and the walls are covered with weapons and things like armour and helmets. In one corner there is an armoured knight with a black-plumed helmet on his head. Whenever the young gentlemen from the castle wanted to play a special prank, one of them would take the knight on his shoulders, and the knightly long mantle would be hung over his shoulders so as to cover him down to his high boot-tops. This figure looked so terrible coming along the terrace that everybody always ran away, even in bright daylight. Once the two young ladies shrieked loudly when they suddenly saw the fearful knight. That pleased the young gentlemen more than anything."

"Oh, then my mother saw him, too, and knows what he looks like," Kurt exclaimed with a sudden start, for he had been breathlessly listening.

"Certainly, for she was one of the young ladies," Loneli said.

"But now n.o.body is at the castle except Mr. Trius, and he couldn't have been there," Kurt objected. "I know that he sneaks about the meadows till late in the evening in order to catch apple-thieves. That is so far from the little woods that he could not possibly have heard us."

"But it was Mr. Trius just the same, you can believe me, Kurt," Loneli a.s.sured her friend. "My grandmother has often said that Mr. Trius always knows everything that is going on. He seems to hide behind the hedges and then suddenly comes out from behind the trees when one least expects him. You know that the boys have known about your plan several days and that they don't always talk in a low voice. Besides, they have been trying to get hold of apples every night. You can be sure that Mr.

Trius heard distinctly what your plan was."

"Yes, that is true, but I have to go to mother now," Kurt exclaimed, as he started toward the house. Then, turning back once more, he said: "Thank you ever so much, Loneli, you have done me a greater service than you can realize by telling me everything. Nothing could have made me happier than what you have said." As he spoke these words he shook the little girl's hand with all his might.

The boy ran into the house, while Loneli hastened home with leaps and bounds, for her heart was thrilling with great joy.

"Where is mother, where is mother?" Kurt impetuously asked Lippo, whom he met in the hall carrying a large water-pitcher entrusted to him by Kathy.

"One knows well enough where mama must be when it is nearly lunch-time.

You came home late from school," Lippo answered, carefully trotting away with his fragile burden.

"Yes, I did, you little sentinel of good order," Kurt laughed out, pa.s.sing Lippo in order to hasten to the dining-room.

Now Kurt could laugh again.

"Oh, are you as far as that already," he cried out in surprise when he found everybody settling down to lunch. "What a shame! I wanted to tell you something, mother."

She gazed at him questioningly. He had not had any urgent news for her lately, and she was glad to hear his clear voice and see his merry eyes again.

"You must wait now till after lunch, Kurt," she said kindly, "for you were rather late to-day."

"Yes, I was rather slow at first," Kurt informed her. "Then Loneli ran after me to tell me something she has found out. I have often said before that Loneli is the most clever child in all Nolla, besides being the most friendly and obliging one could possibly find. Even if she is only brought up by simple Apollonie, she is more refined at bottom than a girl I know who adorns her outside with the most beautiful ribbons and flowers. I would rather have a single Loneli than a thousand Elviras."

Lippo had been anxiously looking at Kurt for some time.

"Here come the beans and you have your plate still full of soup," he said excitedly.

"Kurt, I think that it would be better for you to eat your soup instead of uttering such strange speeches. Besides, we all agree with you about Loneli. I think that she is an unusually nice and sympathetic child."

"Oh, Kurt," the observant little Mazli exclaimed, "do you have to talk so much all at once because you talked so little yesterday, the day before yesterday and the day before that?"

"Yes, that is the exact reason, Mazli," Kurt said with a laugh. His soup was soon eaten, for his spirits had fully come back now, and in the shortest time he had emptied his plate.

Kurt was only able to get his mother to himself after school. The elder children were busy at that time and the two little ones had taken a walk to Apollonie. His mother, having clearly understood his wish to have a thorough talk with her, had reserved this quiet hour for him. Kurt made an honest confession of his disobedience without once excusing himself by saying that he had only done it to destroy all foolish superst.i.tion and by this means to become her helper. He could therefore tell her without reserve how terribly he had been cast down the last few days. The weight had been very heavy on his heart before his confession, because he had been so ashamed of the miserable end of the undertaking. He had, moreover, been very much afraid that she would tell him that no ghost of Wildenstein existed, after he himself had seen the incredible apparition.

What Loneli had told him had relieved him immensely. Now his mother, who had seen the terrible sight herself, could understand his fright.

"Oh, little mother, I hope you are not angry with me any more," Kurt begged her heartily. "I shall never do anything any more you don't want me to, for I know now what it feels like. I know that this was my punishment for doing what you had forbidden me to do."

When his mother saw that Kurt had realized his mistake and had humbly borne the punishment, she did not scold him any further. She confirmed everything Loneli had told him about the knight. She also agreed with the little girl that the watchful Mr. Trius had probably discovered long ago what Kurt had planned to do that night. With the horrible apparition he had probably meant to punish and banish the boys for good.

"Oh, Kurt," the mother concluded, "I hope I can rely on you from now on not to have anything more to do with the matter of the fabulous ghost of Wildenstein."

Kurt could give his honest promise, for he had enough of his endeavour to prove the non-existence of the ghost. It put him into the best spirits that there had been nothing supernatural about it, and that he was able again to talk with his mother as before. With a loud and jubilant song he joined his brothers and sisters.

Mrs. Maxa was also very happy that Kurt had regained his cheerfulness.

What met her ears now, though, was not Kurt's singing, but loud cries of delight. Opening the door, she distinguished the well-known calls of "Uncle Philip, Uncle Philip!" So her longed-for brother was near at last.

Her two little ones, who had met with him on their stroll home, were bringing him along. All five children shouted loudly in order to let their uncle know how welcome he was.

"Oh, how glad I am that you have come at last! Welcome, Philip! Please come in," Mrs. Maxa called out to him.

"I'll come as soon as it is possible," he replied, breathing heavily. He held a child with each hand, and three were between his feet, all welcoming him tumultuously, so that for the moment it was impossible for him to move forward.

Gradually the whole knot moved into the house and towards the uncle's armchair. Here ten busy hands fastened him down so that he should not at once get away.

"You rascals, you!" the uncle said, quite exhausted. "A man is lucky to escape from you with his life. Are you trying to throttle your G.o.dfather, Lippo? Whoever put two fat little arms about a G.o.dfather's neck like that? You seem to have climbed the chair from behind and to have only your foot on the arm of the chair. If you slip, I shall be strangled. Who then will find out for whom I brought a harmonica that's buried in the depths of my coat-pocket? It gives forth the most beautiful melodies you ever heard, when you have learned to play it."

A harmonica was the most wonderful thing Lippo could imagine. His neighbor in school, a little girl called Toneli, owned one and could play whole songs on it--he had always thought it splendid. If a harmonica was really destined for him, he had better let go his uncle's arm.