THOUGH the wolves did not pay a second visit to the chalet, Louis did not find it easy to forget the alarm their near approach had caused. At night he would often wake with a startled cry, and fancy he could hear them howling in the distance, or that nearer still they were trying to find a way of getting into the chalet. At such times his grandfather would remind him of the goodness and care of God, who would not, he felt sure, forget them in their lonely prison. He very often spoke of the Lord Jesus Christ, and Louis never seemed to grow tired of listening to the story of His wondrous birth, His life, His death and resurrection, for when the aged pilgrim spoke of Him, Louis always felt that to him the Lord Jesus was not only a. Savior, but a personal friend, to whom he had given his heart's deepest affection.
During the many hours which they were obliged to spend in darkness each day, Louis had become quite an adept at straw plaiting. "Grandfather," he said, "I seem to have eyes at the tips of my fingers, for though it is quite dark, if I make even a very slight mistake I can detect it by touch. I can understand now the interesting stories you have told me of blind people who, by patience and perseverance, were able to do things that seemed really wonderful.”
But as the days went slowly by, Louis almost forgot his fear of the wolves in anxiety about his grandfather, who, he could not help seeing, was gradually growing weaker. Every day he ate less, and more than once Louis tried to tempt his appetite by making a cupful of Blanchette's milk into a soft, white cheese; but though he smiled and thanked him for the trouble he had taken, he seemed unable to do more than taste it. He went to bed earlier, and rose later; he was not, he said, ill, only very tired, and he missed the fresh air and sunshine.
During the brief hour in which they were able to enjoy lamplight, Louis often employed himself in writing the journal from which the facts of our story are gathered. One evening, while so employed, his grandfather asked him to lend him his book and pen. Louis handed them to him without a word, though he wondered if his grandfather too intended to keep a journal. If he did, Louis had not, he thought, left much for him to tell. After bowing his head for a few minutes in silent prayer, he told Louis he was about to make his will, and wrote as follows:
“In case I am taken from my children I desire them to know my last will. I desire to acknowledge the love and devotion of my dear grandson, Louis Lopraz, now present, and as it is impossible to offer him my last gift on this day, I wish my heirs to supply it, and to give him for me my repeater watch, my gun, my Bible, which belonged to my father, and my seal ring on which is engraved my initials, the same as those of my son and grandson.
“This is my last will.
“LOUIS LOPRAZ.
January 9, 18—.
He then returned the book to Louis, who shed many tears over the freshly written page. The next day his grandfather seemed weaker than usual, but towards evening he rallied a little and said to Louis, "My dear boy, I feel the end of my life is very near. For myself I have no fear. For many years I have trusted in the merits of my Redeemer. My sorrows and my fears are all for you. Had such been the will of God, I would gladly have lived till the long-looked-for hour of our release came. I have often pictured to myself with what joy we should descend the mountain, with Blanchette running in front of us, and of the glad welcome we should receive from your father and uncles, to whom we should seem almost as those alive from the dead.
“But I no longer think this will be possible. My life is, I feel, almost ended. You will, I know, feel very sad and lonely after my death, but in one way it will be better for you. Our stock of food, already very low, will last some days or even weeks longer when I am not needing any. Do not lose faith in God. You will, I believe, yet see your father. I have prayed often that you may do so, and I feel sure my prayers will be answered. I know you will shed many tears, but be brave and patient, and above all, trust in the love and care of God, who has said, 'I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.'”
Louis seemed almost broken-hearted, and in a voice shaken by sobs begged his grandfather not to speak of leaving him alone in the chalet.
“It is better, my dear boy, that you should know it now," replied the old man; "then the shock and the sorrow will not be so great. You know the door leading into the dairy is close to our bed; ask God to give you strength to remove my body into it. When the spring comes, our friends and neighbors will carry my remains down the mountain, and bury them in our village churchyard near the graves of my wife and my father.”
Later in the day, while sitting by the fire, he fainted, and fell forward. He might have been severely burned had not Louis, with a strength that surprised himself, rushed to his help, and though not without a great effort succeeded in dragging him on to the bed. He revived a little, and said feebly, "Where am I?" Louis brought him a little coffee, and after taking a few sips he appeared better. "Bring Blanchette here, and let me stroke her for the last time," he said. Louis obeyed, and the faithful goat licked the hand that had so often fed her.
After two or three more days of great weakness he passed peacefully away, whispering words of prayer and blessing, and holding the hand of his grandson to the last.