Even thus Ondrejko de Gemer, wandering through the woods, wondered if all was true that had pa.s.sed in the last seven days, or if it was merely a dream. Oh, it was no dream, really. She came, the sick lady.

Truly, she lived in Palko's cottage and though Ondrejko had carried the whey there already three times he had not seen her. Aunty always said that she was asleep, and must sleep very much. Ah, why did she always sleep just when he came? She had spoken already to Petrik, and gave him a box full of candy. Palko had already read to her from his Book, and had told her that she was almost as beautiful as his mother at home; Ondrejko, alone, had not seen her yet.

How much he had prayed already, especially that morning, that she might not be asleep again when he went there, that he also might welcome her to those woods and mountains. Formerly Ondrejko didn't think of it, but he did now, when the herdsmen, especially Stephen, again and again reminded him that these sheepfolds were his father's, and therefore his also, and that he had a rightful claim to everything. When they gave him cheese and b.u.t.ter for the lady, they gave him plenty, saying, "Just take it; it is yours." This thought seemed to appeal to him--all is ours. If Palko could say "our cottage," why could not Ondrejko say, "our sheepfolds, our land, and our woods? Oh, then she came to us though she lived in the cottage of Palko. When she gets stronger she will come to us to drink whey from our sheep."

Lost in his meditation, the boy did not realize that he had come to the parting of the paths, one of which turned above to the "Old Hag's Rock," and the other, below to the cottage in the valley. The weather was again so clear that from the green clearings in the woods you could hear the great bells of the rams and the little ones of the sheep.

"There is the ringing of the bells of our sheep," smiled the happy Ondrejko. He ran quickly to the bench, intending to sit upon it and rest, but he did not do so for it was occupied by someone like one of the fairies from the woods of which Stephen often told him, that on St. John's Night came out of the "Old Hag's Rock" and danced on the meadows. None of them could be more beautiful than the lady sitting on the bench, with its firm back covered with a flowery blanket; a similar cushion lay on the arm-rest, and on the cushion rested a white arm. On the small narrow palm a forehead was resting, and beautiful dark-gray eyes looked far away above the mountains.

The boy set down the crock and folded his arms.

Thus he looked at the lily-white face, and the lips which seemed as if the Lord G.o.d had made just for song. And again his heart felt as if someone carried him far, far away, into the land of remembrances. It is too bad that the lady, covered with a light yellow Cashmere shawl does not look at the boy. Is he not also good-looking? and how beautiful! On Sat.u.r.day the doctor sent him a new suit, almost the same kind as Palko had, but the shirt was embroidered with flowers, with broad sleeves, narrow pants, decorated sandals, a round hat with bands, and a small embroidered bag. Petrik also received a new suit, the kind that he used to wear. Ondrejko was very glad that now he would be altogether like his comrades. When they were all three in the church yesterday, the people looked around at them.

If the lady would only look this way! Surely she never saw such a beautiful little Slovak! But she did not look. At last, the boy came to himself. Oh, surely, it must be she!--surely, herself! Who else would be sitting on his bench? And she had that beautiful cat beside her. Here she was, already up, and he was just bringing her breakfast.

He was late! Oh, he knew it was necessary for the whey to be warm.

When, then, will she eat her breakfast?

He took courage and greeted her. The lady aroused herself, opened her big eyes, and in surprise looked at the boy timidly drawing near.

"Good morning," greeted Ondrejko. "I am bringing you the whey, but surely too late. However, I have hurried quite a bit, therefore please do not be angry at me."

"Do you bring me my breakfast?" the lady asked astonished. She arose and took the heavy crock out the hand of the boy. "It must be very heavy for you."

"It was not," said Ondrejko, more at ease, as he fastened his beautiful eyes on the lady's face. Oh, how happy he was that finally he too could see her, and that she talked with him and even took him by the hand.

"And what is your name?"

"Ondrejko," he replied.

"And do you live here at these sheepfolds?"

"Yes," said he, "I live with Bacha Filina. I like it very much."

The lady walked with the boy and he carried the crock. She was small in stature, but every movement reminded one of a princess.

"Why did not Petrik or Palko bring this whey?" she asked, to start a conversation with Ondrejko.

"We change about," said he.

"Change about? But I have never seen you before."

"I have carried the whey already three times, but you have always been asleep," said Ondrejko.

"So, I have always been asleep during your visits? Therefore I will not leave you quickly today. You must rest with us. Look, Aunty is already waiting." The lady stopped and almost joyfully handed the crock to Aunty Moravec.

"Look who brought the whey for us today, but you are already acquainted. We have seen each other for the first time now! Please prepare a good breakfast for my guest." The hands of Aunty shook somewhat when she received the crock, and she hastened to heat the whey at once.

Who could have told Ondrejko how the Lord Jesus would answer his prayer? Petrik saw the lady only in the kitchen, but she took him into her room. How beautifully she had things arranged there! A plush sofa and arm-chair, and many such things as they had in the castle de Gemer were in the room. He was permitted to sit with her on the sofa and look over a large book with photographs, all of beautiful lands and cities. She pointed them out and named them.

"And you have been in all these places?" he dared to ask.

A sad expression clouded her face. "Yes, I have, Ondrejko, but now I have only one wish--to remain forever in these mountains and never again have to look at that evil, deceitful world outside."

After a while Aunty brought breakfast. Ondrejko had to sit down at the beautifully-covered table. He was used to praying before eating in the hut, so he did it now also, and in the joy which overflowed his heart, he added, "I thank Thee, dear Lord Jesus, that You have so kindly answered me."

The lady had already lifted the cup to her lips, but she set it down again, and as if ashamed, bowed her head too. A tear appeared on her golden eyelashes. When the boy had finished eating, she asked him what he had asked Jesus Christ for. He confessed how much he had desired to see her, and that he almost envied his comrades. Then he asked permission to look also into the other book which lay on a small table. It was full of photographs of people. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, because about ten of them were pictures of herself, but she was dressed in all kinds of strange costumes. In one of the pictures she had on a loose dress like a cloak and a crown on her head. Under the picture was printed, "Mary Slavkovsky as Marie Stuart." The boy rested his curly head on his small palms, and thought.

"Why do you look so much at that picture?" said the lady, stroking his golden curls.

"Is this really you in all these pictures? Have you perhaps played in a theatre?" said Ondrejko.

She was astonished. "What do you know about theatres? Have you perhaps been in one of them?"

"No," he shook his head. "That could not be possible. I have not been." The boy's face saddened.

"What do you mean, Ondrejko?" said the lady, drawing him nearer to her.

"Oh, my mother also is pictured in photographs, but I shall never see her again."

"Your mother?" said she, wonderingly. "Is she not a country woman?"

"Oh, no!" The eyes of the boy glowed. "She is a famous singer, but I shall not see her again, because she has forgotten me long ago--and so I have n.o.body to look after me, no mother, no father, although I was adjudged to him. I used to be very sad about it, but since Palko came to us, and I believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, and received Him in my heart, I am no more just a forsaken orphan, because He loves me, and He it with me." The boy stopped because the lady became very pale, and the arm with which she had caressed him, fell down and a deep sigh escaped her lips.

"Aunty!" cried the scared boy, and not in vain. Aunty Moravec ran into the room. She washed the deathly-pale face of the lady with some kind of fine-smelling water. She placed a cushion under her head and put her feet on the sofa. After a while, the lady began to breathe better again. Aunty took the boy by the hand and led him to the kitchen. At his anxious questioning she told him only that the lady was still very weak and must rest. Ondrejko repeated to her what they had been speaking about together. At hearing this, Aunty sighed and caressed him, and said, "It is all in vain. It had to come and the sooner the better." She did not hinder Ondrejko from going home, but did not allow him to carry the crock.

"Send Palko, in the afternoon. He promised to take the lady to you.

From tomorrow on, she is to come to your sheepfold to drink the whey.

The doctor ordered that."

"But is she not sick?" the boy said, showing some anxiety.

"She is not sick any more, only weak, and this weakness she must overcome by walking," responded Aunty.

In this world there is no sweetness without bitterness. If something strange had not happened, that boy would have returned home very proud and happy. Thus Bacha Filina found him not far away, all in tears, and when he took him into his strong arms like a little lamb, the boy threw both arms around his neck and told him everything.

"Bacha, I have surely said something bad, though I really don't know what, and she became very sad about it," cried Ondrejko.

"Do not cry," the man comforted him. "You said only what the Lord G.o.d put in your mouth. Anyway, when the lady comes in the afternoon, all will be well again."

With these words, the Bacha carried the tired boy to his wooden hut, laid him on the bed, and sat beside him. He stroked his arm and forehead, and before long he had put his little charge to sleep. Then he looked at him once more, sadly, and left. About half-an-hour later the herdsmen found him dressed in his Sunday suit going in the direction of the "Old Hag's Rock." They thought he was going to town, and wondered why, because he had been there only yesterday.

At the same time, bitter crying sounded in Palko's cottage, which Aunty Moravec could in no way silence. There the weeping lady said, "He was here; he, my beautiful golden-headed child, and I did not know him. The heavy crock he brought to me himself. He wanted to see me, but did not recognize me. How could he, when I myself did not know him? That his own mother forgot him long ago is not true. All the glory of the world could not replace my lost treasure. Oh, my father, my father! If you only knew what became of your daughter! You taught her to fold her hands in prayer, but she forgot everything--even that.

Unfortunate, betrayed wife, craven mother! If you only knew how your warnings have been literally fulfilled!"

The lady cried bitterly. There was no comfort for her. Usually there is none for the son or daughter who has trampled the good advice of his parents under his feet and after that has had to suffer everything which has been foretold them.

Finally Aunty went out. She heard steps in the hall. After a while she returned asking if Bacha Filina might enter, that he would like to speak of something important with the lady.

In a moment Bacha was in the room. "I have come, Madame Slavkovsky, to talk with you," he began seriously. "It is time to make an end to the sin, which for years you have already committed as to my little charge. The doctor told me that you are his mother, and my lord is his father. Now is this tender, sensitive child to grow up as somebody said: 'Whether father or mother, whether sister or brother, n.o.body comes to welcome me'?" The man spoke seriously.