LOUIS and his grandfather were alone in the chalet. They remained for some time at the window, hoping to catch another glimpse of Francis and his flocks. For some minutes the old man did not speak, but his hands were clasped, and his lips moved as if in silent prayer. At last he whispered to his grandson, "Have faith in God," then, sinking upon his knees, he prayed very earnestly for the safety of his son. Louis knelt by his side, and in his own simple words asked God to take care of his father.
The wind that had been blowing freshly for some time increased in violence, and flakes of snow were falling thick and fast. Masses of black clouds darkened the sky, and night came suddenly on. The wooden timepiece in the chalet struck the hour of three, but it was already dark. Neither Louis or his grandfather had tasted food since the early morning, but hunger was for a time forgotten in the strangeness and terror of their situation.
“May God have mercy upon my son!" said the old man, adding in a more hopeful tone, "Francis must have been well out of the forest before the violence of the storm came on, so let us trust in God, and hope that he and the flocks have reached the village safely.”
The bleating of the goat reminded them that it was long past her usual hour of milking. Louis lighted the lamp, and helped his grandfather to reach the stable, which was strongly built against the side of the chalet. The goat seemed to show almost human pleasure as they entered the stable, and almost broke the cord by which she was tied in her efforts to get near them. Louis gave her a handful of salt, which she liked very much, and licked his hand over and over again so as not to lose a morsel.
“Poor Blanchette!" said the grandfather.
“Now, Louis, you will have to milk her, as I cannot yet stand without great pain.”
The goat at first appeared inclined to resent his unskillful handling, but after a little patience and some instructions from his grandfather he got on very well, and the goat gave them a good can of milk, for which they were very thankful.
As they sat at supper the grandfather said, "We must take great care of Blanchette; we must feed her as well as we can, and never forget to milk her night and morning. Our lives may depend upon hers.”
Louis looked at his grandfather with a strange, new fear coming over him. "Do you think we shall have to remain here long?" he asked.
“I cannot say," was the reply. "All we can do is to trust in God, and make the best use we can, of any stores of food we may find in the chalet.”
The storm grew louder and wilder as the hours passed slowly by. Gusts of wind swept the side of the mountain with such fury that more than once Louis thought the chalet would be swept away. His grandfather bade him have no fears on that account, as it was strongly built, and had withstood many a storm, though he added, "I do not remember one of greater fury than the one now raging.”
So much snow fell down the wide, open chimney, that they soon found it was impossible to keep their fire burning. "We shall only find warmth in bed," said the grandfather. "Let us, then, ask again for the care and protection of God the snow were a hundred times deeper than it is it would not hide us from Him. ‘The eyes of the Lord are in every place, beholding the evil and the good.' The darkness and the light are alike to, Him. Trusting in His care we will both lie down and sleep in peace.”
When Louis awoke the following morning he was surprised to find that it was still dark, and was just going to sleep again when he heard his grandfather moving about, and called to ask him why he had risen before daylight. The old man replied, "If we wait for daylight we shall stay in bed all day. The storm has continued all night, and the door and window are snowed up.”
With a cry of terror Louis sprang out of bed. The clock had just struck seven; he went to the door, but the weight of the snow that had drifted against it prevented him from opening it. Bursting into tears, he exclaimed, "This is dreadful; we are buried alive! Do you think father will be able to reach us?”
“I fear not, but God will not forget us," said his grandfather. "We must in some way contrive to reach Blanchette and bring her into our living room. When the storm abates we will again light our fire. We must never forget to wind up our clock, as we shall be glad to know how the time goes. While we depend upon the care of God we must not be idle, but do all we can to help ourselves.”
Louis found that the snowdrift was not so deep as he had at first thought, and after a short time was able to make his way to the stable. The exertion had sent a warm glow all over his body, and as he led the goat in the sun shone out brilliantly. Never before had sunshine seemed so bright and beautiful to the boy. But the bright gleam did not last long. The wind rose, the clouds returned, and snow again fell heavily.
“We may have to remain here for some time, Louis," said the aged grandfather, "so we must lose no time in learning how much food we have in the chalet, then we will divide it into daily portions, and so make it last as long as possible. We can hardly hope to leave our prison-house before the spring, for even if, through the mercy of God, your father and the flocks have reached the valley safely, the roads are by this time so blocked with snow that I fear no one will be able to come to our help.”
Louis felt very sad, and could not help shedding tears as he thought of his father, who might have perished with his flocks in the snow. If he had reached his home safely, would he not, the boy thought, have found some way of coming to their help. He remembered, too, his mother, how kind and patient she had always been. Only a little while before he had stood by her open grave, and it grieved him to think how often he had caused her pain by thoughtlessness or disobedience.
His sadness was not unnoticed by his grandfather, who began to talk to him in such a kind, cheerful way, telling him stories of his own boyhood, that Louis smiled through his tears, and for a little while almost forgot his troubles.