Putting his revolver aside, he led the trembling child up-stairs. "Don't be afraid; just be quiet! Everything is all right; don't be frightened." When they had arrived in Heidi's room, the doctor put the little girl to bed, covering her up carefully. Drawing a chair near the couch, he waited till Heidi had calmed down and had stopped trembling. Then taking her hand in his, he said kindly: "Now everything is all right again. Tell me where you wanted to go?" "I did not want to go anywhere," Heidi assured him; "I did not go myself, only I was there all of a sudden." "Really! Tell me, what did you dream?" "Oh, I have the same dream every night. I always think I am with my grandfather again and can hear the fir-trees roar. I always think how beautiful the stars must be, and then I open the door of the hut, and oh, it is so wonderful! But when I wake up I am always in Frankfurt." Heidi had to fight the sobs that were rising in her throat. "Does your back or your head hurt you, child?" "No, but I feel as if a big stone was pressing me here." "As if you had eaten something that disagreed with you?" "Oh no, but as if I wanted to cry hard." "So, and then you cry out, don't you?" "Oh no, I must never do that, for Miss Rottenmeier has forbidden it." "Then you swallow it down? Yes? Do you like to be here?" "Oh yes," was the faint, uncertain reply. "Where did you live with your grandfather?" "Up on the Alp." "But wasn't it a little lonely there?" "Oh no, it was so beautiful!"--But Heidi could say no more. The recollection, the excitement of the night and all the restrained sorrow overpowered the child. The tears rushed violently from her eyes and she broke out into loud sobs. The doctor rose, and soothing her, said: "It won't hurt to cry; you'll go to sleep afterward, and when you wake up everything will come right." Then he left the room. Joining his anxious friend down-stairs, he said: "Sesemann, the little girl is a sleep-walker, and has unconsciously scared your whole household. Besides, she is so home-sick that her little body has wasted away. We shall have to act quickly. The only remedy for her is to be restored to her native mountain air. This is my prescription, and she must go tomorrow." "What, sick, a sleep-walker, and wasted away in my house! Nobody even suspected it! You think I should send this child back in this condition, when she has come in good health? No, doctor, ask everything but that. Take her in hand and prescribe for her, but let her get well before I send her back." "Sesemann," the doctor replied seriously, "just think what you are doing. We cannot cure her with powders and pills. The child has not a strong constitution, and if you keep her here, she might never get well again. If you restore her to the bracing mountain air to which she is accustomed, she probably will get perfectly well again."