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diff --git a/299-h/299-h.htm b/299-h/299-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f47273b --- /dev/null +++ b/299-h/299-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7376 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> + <title> + Tales from Two Hemispheres, by Hjalmar Hjorth Boysen + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +Project Gutenberg's Tales From Two Hemispheres, by Hjalmar Hjorth Boysen + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Tales From Two Hemispheres + +Author: Hjalmar Hjorth Boysen + +Release Date: July 12, 2008 [EBook #299] +Last Updated: October 18, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES FROM TWO HEMISPHERES *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Keller, and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + TALES FROM TWO HEMISPHERES + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Hjalmar Hjorth Boysen + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + 1877 + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>TALES FROM TWO HEMISPHERES.</b> </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> THE MAN WHO LOST HIS NAME. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> II. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> III. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> IV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> V. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> VI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> VII. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> THE STORY OF AN OUTCAST. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> II. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> III. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> IV. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> A GOOD-FOR-NOTHING. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> II. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> III. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> IV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> V. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> A SCIENTIFIC VAGABOND. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> I. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> II. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> III. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> IV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> V. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0024"> VI. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0025"> TRULS, THE NAMELESS. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0026"> ASATHOR’S VENGEANCE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0027"> I. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0028"> II. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0029"> III. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0030"> IV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0031"> V. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_FOOT"> Footnotes: </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h1> + TALES FROM TWO HEMISPHERES. + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE MAN WHO LOST HIS NAME. + </h2> + <p> + ON the second day of June, 186—, a young Norseman, Halfdan Bjerk by + name, landed on the pier at Castle Garden. He passed through the straight + and narrow gate where he was asked his name, birthplace, and how much + money he had,—at which he grew very much frightened. + </p> + <p> + “And your destination?”—demanded the gruff-looking functionary at + the desk. + </p> + <p> + “America,” said the youth, and touched his hat politely. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think I have time for joking?” roared the official, with an oath. + </p> + <p> + The Norseman ran his hand through his hair, smiled his timidly + conciliatory smile, and tried his best to look brave; but his hand + trembled and his heart thumped away at an alarmingly quickened tempo. + </p> + <p> + “Put him down for Nebraska!” cried a stout red-cheeked individual + (inwrapped in the mingled fumes of tobacco and whisky) whose function it + was to open and shut the gate. + </p> + <p> + “There ain’t many as go to Nebraska.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Nebraska.” + </p> + <p> + The gate swung open and the pressure from behind urged the timid traveler + on, while an extra push from the gate-keeper sent him flying in the + direction of a board fence, where he sat down and tried to realize that he + was now in the land of liberty. + </p> + <p> + Halfdan Bjerk was a tall, slender-limbed youth of very delicate frame; he + had a pair of wonderfully candid, unreflecting blue eyes, a smooth, clear, + beardless face, and soft, wavy light hair, which was pushed back from his + forehead without parting. His mouth and chin were well cut, but their + lines were, perhaps, rather weak for a man. When in repose, the ensemble + of his features was exceedingly pleasing and somehow reminded one of + Correggio’s St. John. He had left his native land because he was an ardent + republican and was abstractly convinced that man, generically and + individually, lives more happily in a republic than in a monarchy. He had + anticipated with keen pleasure the large, freely breathing life he was to + lead in a land where every man was his neighbor’s brother, where no + senseless traditions kept a jealous watch over obsolete systems and + shrines, and no chilling prejudice blighted the spontaneous blossoming of + the soul. + </p> + <p> + Halfdan was an only child. His father, a poor government official, had + died during his infancy, and his mother had given music lessons, and kept + boarders, in order to gain the means to give her son what is called a + learned education. In the Latin school Halfdan had enjoyed the reputation + of being a bright youth, and at the age of eighteen, he had entered the + university under the most promising auspices. He could make very fair + verses, and play all imaginable instruments with equal ease, which made + him a favorite in society. Moreover, he possessed that very old-fashioned + accomplishment of cutting silhouettes; and what was more, he could draw + the most charmingly fantastic arabesques for embroidery patterns, and he + even dabbled in portrait and landscape painting. Whatever he turned his + hand to, he did well, in fact, astonishingly well for a dilettante, and + yet not well enough to claim the title of an artist. Nor did it ever occur + to him to make such a claim. As one of his fellow-students remarked in a + fit of jealousy, “Once when Nature had made three geniuses, a poet, a + musician, and a painter, she took all the remaining odds and ends and + shook them together at random and the result was Halfdan Bjerk.” This + agreeable melange of accomplishments, however, proved very attractive to + the ladies, who invited the possessor to innumerable afternoon + tea-parties, where they drew heavy drafts on his unflagging patience, and + kept him steadily engaged with patterns and designs for embroidery, + leather flowers, and other dainty knickknacks. And in return for all his + exertions they called him “sweet” and “beautiful,” and applied to him many + other enthusiastic adjectives seldom heard in connection with masculine + names. In the university, talents of this order gained but slight + recognition, and when Halfdan had for three years been preparing himself + in vain for the examen philosophicum, he found himself slowly and + imperceptibly drifting into the ranks of the so-called studiosi perpetui, + who preserve a solemn silence at the examination tables, fraternize with + every new generation of freshmen, and at last become part of the fixed + furniture of their Alma Mater. In the larger American colleges, such men + are mercilessly dropped or sent to a Divinity School; but the European + universities, whose tempers the centuries have mellowed, harbor in their + spacious Gothic bosoms a tenderer heart for their unfortunate sons. There + the professors greet them at the green tables with a good-humored smile of + recognition; they are treated with gentle forbearance, and are allowed to + linger on, until they die or become tutors in the families of remote + clergymen, where they invariably fall in love with the handsomest + daughter, and thus lounge into a modest prosperity. + </p> + <p> + If this had been the fate of our friend Bjerk, we should have dismissed + him here with a confident “vale” on his life’s pilgrimage. But, + unfortunately, Bjerk was inclined to hold the government in some way + responsible for his own poor success as a student, and this, in connection + with an aesthetic enthusiasm for ancient Greece, gradually convinced him + that the republic was the only form of government under which men of his + tastes and temperament were apt to flourish. It was, like everything that + pertained to him, a cheerful, genial conviction, without the slightest + tinge of bitterness. The old institutions were obsolete, rotten to the + core, he said, and needed a radical renovation. He could sit for hours of + an evening in the Students’ Union, and discourse over a glass of mild + toddy, on the benefits of universal suffrage and trial by jury, while the + picturesqueness of his language, his genial sarcasms, or occasional witty + allusions would call forth uproarious applause from throngs of admiring + freshmen. These were the sunny days in Halfdan’s career, days long to be + remembered. They came to an abrupt end when old Mrs. Bjerk died, leaving + nothing behind her but her furniture and some trifling debts. The son, who + was not an eminently practical man, underwent long hours of misery in + trying to settle up her affairs, and finally in a moment of extreme + dejection sold his entire inheritance in a lump to a pawnbroker (reserving + for himself a few rings and trinkets) for the modest sum of 250 dollars + specie. He then took formal leave of the Students’ Union in a brilliant + speech, in which he traced the parallelisms between the lives of Pericles + and Washington,—in his opinion the two greatest men the world had + ever seen,—expounded his theory of democratic government, and + explained the causes of the rapid rise of the American Republic. The next + morning he exchanged half of his worldly possessions for a ticket to New + York, and within a few days set sail for the land of promise, in the far + West. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. + </h2> + <p> + From Castle Garden, Halfdan made his way up through Greenwich street, + pursued by a clamorous troop of confidence men and hotel runners. + </p> + <p> + “Kommen Sie mit mir. Ich bin auch Deutsch,” cried one. “Voila, voila, je + parle Francais,” shouted another, seizing hold of his valise. “Jeg er + Dansk. Tale Dansk,” <a href="#linknote-1" name="linknoteref-1" + id="linknoteref-1"><small>1</small></a> roared a third, with an accent + which seriously impeached his truthfulness. In order to escape from these + importunate rascals, who were every moment getting bolder, he threw + himself into the first street-car which happened to pass; he sat down, + gazed out of the windows and soon became so thoroughly absorbed in the + animated scenes which moved as in a panorama before his eyes, that he + quite forgot where he was going. The conductor called for fares, and + received an English shilling, which, after some ineffectual expostulation, + he pocketed, but gave no change. At last after about an hour’s journey, + the car stopped, the conductor called out “Central Park,” and Halfdan woke + up with a start. He dismounted with a timid, deliberate step, stared in + dim bewilderment at the long rows of palatial residences, and a chill + sense of loneliness crept over him. The hopeless strangeness of everything + he saw, instead of filling him with rapture as he had once anticipated, + Sent a cold shiver to his heart. It is a very large affair, this world of + ours—a good deal larger than it appeared to him gazing out upon it + from his snug little corner up under the Pole; and it was as unsympathetic + as it was large; he suddenly felt what he had never been aware of before—that + he was a very small part of it and of very little account after all. He + staggered over to a bench at the entrance to the park, and sat long + watching the fine carriages as they dashed past him; he saw the handsome + women in brilliant costumes laughing and chatting gayly; the apathetic + policemen promenading in stoic dignity up and down upon the smooth + pavements; the jauntily attired nurses, whom in his Norse innocence he + took for mothers or aunts of the children, wheeling baby-carriages which + to Norse eyes seemed miracles of dainty ingenuity, under the shady crowns + of the elm-trees. He did not know how long he had been sitting there, when + a little bright-eyed girl with light kid gloves, a small blue parasol and + a blue polonaise, quite a lady of fashion en miniature, stopped in front + of him and stared at him in shy wonder. He had always been fond of + children, and often rejoiced in their affectionate ways and confidential + prattle, and now it suddenly touched him with a warm sense of human + fellowship to have this little daintily befrilled and crisply starched + beauty single him out for notice among the hundreds who reclined in the + arbors, or sauntered to and fro under the great trees. + </p> + <p> + “What is your name, my little girl?” he asked, in a tone of friendly + interest. + </p> + <p> + “Clara,” answered the child, hesitatingly; then, having by another look + assured herself of his harmlessness, she added: “How very funny you + speak!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said, stooping down to take he tiny begloved hand. “I do not + speak as well as you do, yet; but I shall soon learn.” + </p> + <p> + Clara looked puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “How old are you?” she asked, raising her parasol, and throwing back her + head with an air of superiority. + </p> + <p> + “I am twenty-four years old.” + </p> + <p> + She began to count half aloud on her fingers: “One, two, three, four,” + but, before she reached twenty, she lost her patience. + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-four,” she exclaimed, “that is a great deal. I am only seven, and + papa gave me a pony on my birthday. Have you got a pony?” + </p> + <p> + “No; I have nothing but what is in this valise, and you know I could not + very well get a pony into it.” + </p> + <p> + Clara glanced curiously at the valise and laughed; then suddenly she grew + serious again, put her hand into her pocket and seemed to be searching + eagerly for something. Presently she hauled out a small porcelain doll’s + head, then a red-painted block with letters on it, and at last a penny. + </p> + <p> + “Do you want them?” she said, reaching him her treasures in both hands. + “You may have them all.” + </p> + <p> + Before he had time to answer, a shrill, penetrating voice cried out: + </p> + <p> + “Why, gracious! child, what are you doing?” + </p> + <p> + And the nurse, who had been deeply absorbed in “The New York Ledger,” came + rushing up, snatched the child away, and retreated as hastily as she had + come. + </p> + <p> + Halfdan rose and wandered for hours aimlessly along the intertwining roads + and footpaths. He visited the menageries, admired the statues, took a very + light dinner, consisting of coffee, sandwiches, and ice, at the Chinese + Pavilion, and, toward evening, discovered an inviting leafy arbor, where + he could withdraw into the privacy of his own thoughts, and ponder upon + the still unsolved problem of his destiny. The little incident with the + child had taken the edge off his unhappiness and turned him into a more + conciliatory mood toward himself and the great pitiless world, which + seemed to take so little notice of him. And he, who had come here with so + warm a heart and so ardent a will to join in the great work of human + advancement—to find himself thus harshly ignored and buffeted about, + as if he were a hostile intruder! Before him lay the huge unknown city + where human life pulsated with large, full heart-throbs, where a + breathless, weird intensity, a cold, fierce passion seemed to be hurrying + everything onward in a maddening whirl, where a gentle, warm-blooded + enthusiast like himself had no place and could expect naught but a speedy + destruction. A strange, unconquerable dread took possession of him, as if + he had been caught in a swift, strong whirlpool, from which he vainly + struggled to escape. He crouched down among the foliage and shuddered. He + could not return to the city. No, no: he never would return. He would + remain here hidden and unseen until morning, and then he would seek a + vessel bound for his dear native land, where the great mountains loomed up + in serene majesty toward the blue sky, where the pine-forests whispered + their dreamily sympathetic legends, in the long summer twilights, where + human existence flowed on in calm beauty with the modest aims, small + virtues, and small vices which were the happiness of modest, idyllic + souls. He even saw himself in spirit recounting to his astonished + countrymen the wonderful things he had heard and seen during his foreign + pilgrimage, and smiled to himself as he imagined their wonder when he + should tell them about the beautiful little girl who had been the first + and only one to offer him a friendly greeting in the strange land. During + these reflections he fell asleep, and slept soundly for two or three + hours. Once, he seemed to hear footsteps and whispers among the trees, and + made an effort to rouse himself, but weariness again overmastered him and + he slept on. At last, he felt himself seized violently by the shoulders, + and a gruff voice shouted in his ear: + </p> + <p> + “Get up, you sleepy dog.” + </p> + <p> + He rubbed his eyes, and, by the dim light of the moon, saw a Herculean + policeman lifting a stout stick over his head. His former terror came upon + him with increased violence, and his heart stood for a moment still, then, + again, hammered away as if it would burst his sides. + </p> + <p> + “Come along!” roared the policeman, shaking him vehemently by the collar + of his coat. + </p> + <p> + In his bewilderment he quite forgot where he was, and, in hurried Norse + sentences, assured his persecutor that he was a harmless, honest traveler, + and implored him to release him. But the official Hercules was inexorable. + </p> + <p> + “My valise, my valise;” cried Halfdan. “Pray let me get my valise.” + </p> + <p> + They returned to the place where he had slept, but the valise was nowhere + to be found. Then, with dumb despair he resigned himself to his fate, and + after a brief ride on a street-car, found himself standing in a large, + low-ceiled room; he covered his face with his hands and burst into tears. + </p> + <p> + “The grand-the happy republic,” he murmured, “spontaneous blossoming of + the soul. Alas! I have rooted up my life; I fear it will never blossom.” + </p> + <p> + All the high-flown adjectives he had employed in his parting speech in the + Students’ Union, when he paid his enthusiastic tribute to the Grand + Republic, now kept recurring to him, and in this moment the paradox seemed + cruel. The Grand Republic, what did it care for such as he? A pair of + brawny arms fit to wield the pick-axe and to steer the plow it received + with an eager welcome; for a child-like, loving heart and a generously + fantastic brain, it had but the stern greeting of the law. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. + </h2> + <p> + The next morning, Halfdan was released from the Police Station, having + first been fined five dollars for vagrancy. All his money, with the + exception of a few pounds which he had exchanged in Liverpool, he had lost + with his valise, and he had to his knowledge not a single acquaintance in + the city or on the whole continent. In order to increase his capital he + bought some fifty “Tribunes,” but, as it was already late in the day, he + hardly succeeded in selling a single copy. The next morning, he once more + stationed himself on the corner of Murray street and Broadway, hoping in + his innocence to dispose of the papers he had still on hand from the + previous day, and actually did find a few customers among the people who + were jumping in and out of the omnibuses that passed up and down the great + thoroughfare. To his surprise, however, one of these gentlemen returned to + him with a very wrathful countenance, shook his fist at him, and + vociferated with excited gestures something which to Halfdan’s ears had a + very unintelligible sound. He made a vain effort to defend himself; the + situation appeared so utterly incomprehensible to him, and in his dumb + helplessness he looked pitiful enough to move the heart of a stone. No + English phrase suggested itself to him, only a few Norse interjections + rose to his lips. The man’s anger suddenly abated; he picked up the paper + which he had thrown on the sidewalk, and stood for a while regarding + Halfdan curiously. + </p> + <p> + “Are you a Norwegian?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I came from Norway yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s your name?” + </p> + <p> + “Halfdan Bjerk.” + </p> + <p> + “Halfdan Bjerk! My stars! Who would have thought of meeting you here! You + do not recognize me, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + Halfdan declared with a timid tremor in his voice that he could not at the + moment recall his features. + </p> + <p> + “No, I imagine I must have changed a good deal since you saw me,” said the + man, suddenly dropping into Norwegian. “I am Gustav Olson, I used to live + in the same house with you once, but that is long ago now.” + </p> + <p> + Gustav Olson—to be sure, he was the porter’s son in the house, where + his mother had once during his childhood, taken a flat. He well remembered + having clandestinely traded jack-knives and buttons with him, in spite of + the frequent warnings he had received to have nothing to do with him; for + Gustav, with his broad freckled face and red hair, was looked upon by the + genteel inhabitants of the upper flats as rather a disreputable character. + He had once whipped the son of a colonel who had been impudent to him, and + thrown a snow-ball at the head of a new-fledged lieutenant, which offenses + he had duly expiated at a house of correction. Since that time he had + vanished from Halfdan’s horizon. He had still the same broad freckled + face, now covered with a lusty growth of coarse red beard, the same + rebellious head of hair, which refused to yield to the subduing influences + of the comb, the same plebeian hands and feet, and uncouth clumsiness of + form. But his linen was irreproachable, and a certain dash in his manner, + and the loud fashionableness of his attire, gave unmistakable evidences of + prosperity. + </p> + <p> + “Come, Bjerk,” said he in a tone of good-fellowship, which was not without + its sting to the idealistic republican, “you must take up a better + business than selling yesterday’s `Tribune.’ That won’t pay here, you + know. Come along to our office and I will see if something can’t be done + for you.” + </p> + <p> + “But I should be sorry to give you trouble,” stammered Halfdan, whose + native pride, even in his present wretchedness, protested against + accepting a favor from one whom he had been wont to regard as his + inferior. + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense, my boy. Hurry up, I haven’t much time to spare. The office is + only two blocks from here. You don’t look as if you could afford to throw + away a friendly offer.” + </p> + <p> + The last words suddenly roused Halfdan from his apathy; for he felt that + they were true. A drowning man cannot afford to make nice distinctions—cannot + afford to ask whether the helping hand that is extended to him be that of + an equal or an inferior. So he swallowed his humiliation and threaded his + way through the bewildering turmoil of Broadway, by the side of his + officious friend. + </p> + <p> + They entered a large, elegantly furnished office, where clerks with sleek + and severely apathetic countenances stood scribbling at their desks. + </p> + <p> + “You will have to amuse yourself as best you can,” said Olson. “Mr. Van + Kirk will be here in twenty minutes. I haven’t time to entertain you.” + </p> + <p> + A dreary half hour passed. Then the door opened and a tall, handsome man, + with a full grayish beard, and a commanding presence, entered and took his + seat at a desk in a smaller adjoining office. He opened, with great + dispatch, a pile of letters which lay on the desk before him, called out + in a sharp, ringing tone for a clerk, who promptly appeared, handed him + half-a-dozen letters, accompanying each with a brief direction, took some + clean paper from a drawer and fell to writing. There was something brisk, + determined, and business-like in his manner, which made it seem very + hopeless to Halfdan to appear before him as a petitioner. Presently Olson + entered the private office, closing the door behind him, and a few minutes + later re-appeared and summoned Halfdan into the chief’s presence. + </p> + <p> + “You are a Norwegian, I hear,” said the merchant, looking around over his + shoulder at the supplicant, with a preoccupied air. “You want work. What + can you do?” + </p> + <p> + What can you do? A fatal question. But here was clearly no opportunity for + mental debate. So, summoning all his courage, but feeling nevertheless + very faint, he answered: + </p> + <p> + “I have passed both examen artium and philosophicum, <a href="#linknote-2" + name="linknoteref-2" id="linknoteref-2"><small>2</small></a> and got my + laud clear in the former, but in the latter haud on the first point.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Van Kirk wheeled round on his chair and faced the speaker: + </p> + <p> + “That is all Greek to me,” he said, in a severe tone. “Can you keep + accounts?” + </p> + <p> + “No. I am afraid not.” + </p> + <p> + Keeping accounts was not deemed a classical accomplishment in Norway. It + was only “trade-rats” who troubled themselves about such gross things, and + if our Norseman had not been too absorbed with the problem of his destiny, + he would have been justly indignant at having such a question put to him. + </p> + <p> + “Then you don’t know book-keeping?” + </p> + <p> + “I think not. I never tried it.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you may be sure you don’t know it. But you must certainly have tried + your hand at something. Is there nothing you can think of which might help + you to get a living?” + </p> + <p> + “I can play the piano—and—and the violin.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then. You may come this afternoon to my house. Mr. Olson will + tell you the address. I will give you a note to Mrs. Van Kirk. Perhaps she + will engage you as a music teacher for the children. Good morning.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV. + </h2> + <p> + At half-past four o’clock in the afternoon, Halfdan found himself standing + in a large, dimly lighted drawing-room, whose brilliant upholstery, + luxurious carpets, and fantastically twisted furniture dazzled and + bewildered his senses. All was so strange, so strange; nowhere a familiar + object to give rest to the wearied eye. Wherever he looked he saw his + shabbily attired figure repeated in the long crystal mirrors, and he + became uncomfortably conscious of his threadbare coat, his uncouth boots, + and the general incongruity of his appearance. With every moment his + uneasiness grew; and he was vaguely considering the propriety of a + precipitate flight, when the rustle of a dress at the farther end of the + room startled him, and a small, plump lady, of a daintily exquisite form, + swept up toward him, gave a slight inclination of her head, and sank down + into an easy-chair: + </p> + <p> + “You are Mr. ——, the Norwegian, who wishes to give music + lessons?” she said, holding a pair of gold-framed eyeglasses up to her + eyes, and running over the note which she held in her hand. It read as + follows: + </p> + <p> + DEAR MARTHA,—The bearer of this note is a young Norwegian, I forgot + to ascertain his name, a friend of Olson’s. He wishes to teach music. If + you can help the poor devil and give him something to do, you will oblige, + Yours, H. V. K. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Van Kirk was evidently, by at least twelve years, her husband’s + junior, and apparently not very far advanced in the forties. Her blonde + hair, which was freshly crimped, fell lightly over her smooth, narrow + forehead; her nose, mouth and chin had a neat distinctness of outline; her + complexion was either naturally or artificially perfect, and her eyes, + which were of the purest blue, had, owing to their near-sightedness, a + certain pinched and scrutinizing look. This look, which was without the + slightest touch of severity, indicating merely a lively degree of + interest, was further emphasized by three small perpendicular wrinkles, + which deepened and again relaxed according to the varying intensity of + observation she bestowed upon the object which for the time engaged her + attention. + </p> + <p> + “Your name, if you please?” said Mrs. Van Kirk, having for awhile measured + her visitor with a glance of mild scrutiny. + </p> + <p> + “Halfdan Bjerk.” + </p> + <p> + “Half-dan B——, how do you spell that?” + </p> + <p> + “B-j-e-r-k.” + </p> + <p> + “B-jerk. Well, but I mean, what is your name in English?” + </p> + <p> + Halfdan looked blank, and blushed to his ears. + </p> + <p> + “I wish to know,” continued the lady energetically, evidently anxious to + help him out, “what your name would mean in plain English. Bjerk, it + certainly must mean something.” + </p> + <p> + “Bjerk is a tree—a birch-tree.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, Birch,—that is a very respectable name. And your first + name? What did you say that was? + </p> + <p> + “H-a-l-f-d-a-n.” + </p> + <p> + “Half Dan. Why not a whole Dan and be done with it? Dan Birch, or rather + Daniel Birch. Indeed, that sounds quite Christian.” + </p> + <p> + “As you please, madam,” faltered the victim, looking very unhappy. + </p> + <p> + “You will pardon my straightforwardness, won’t you? B-jerk. I could never + pronounce that, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Whatever may be agreeable to you, madam, will be sure to please me.” + </p> + <p> + “That is very well said. And you will find that it always pays to try to + please me. And you wish to teach music? If you have no objection I will + call my oldest daughter. She is an excellent judge of music, and if your + playing meets with her approval, I will engage you, as my husband + suggests, not to teach Edith, you understand, but my youngest child, + Clara.” + </p> + <p> + Halfdan bowed assent, and Mrs. Van Kirk rustled out into the hall where + she rang a bell, and re-entered. A servant in dress-coat appeared, and + again vanished as noiselessly as he had come. To our Norseman there was + some thing weird and uncanny about these silent entrances and exits; he + could hardly suppress a shudder. He had been accustomed to hear the + clatter of people’s heels upon the bare floors, as they approached, and + the audible crescendo of their footsteps gave one warning, and prevented + one from being taken by surprise. While absorbed in these reflections, his + senses must have been dormant; for just then Miss Edith Van Kirk entered, + unheralded by anything but a hovering perfume, the effect of which was to + lull him still deeper into his wondering abstraction. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Birch,” said Mrs. Van Kirk, “this is my daughter Miss Edith,” and as + Halfdan sprang to his feet and bowed with visible embarrassment, she + continued: + </p> + <p> + “Edith, this is Mr. Daniel Birch, whom your father has sent here to know + if he would be serviceable as a music teacher for Clara. And now, dear, + you will have to decide about the merits of Mr. Birch. I don’t know enough + about music to be anything of a judge.” + </p> + <p> + “If Mr. Birch will be kind enough to play,” said Miss Edith with a + languidly musical intonation,” I shall be happy to listen to him.” + </p> + <p> + Halfdan silently signified his willingness and followed the ladies to a + smaller apartment which was separated from the drawing-room by folding + doors. The apparition of the beautiful young girl who was walking at his + side had suddenly filled him with a strange burning and shuddering + happiness; he could not tear his eyes away from her; she held him as by a + powerful spell. And still, all the while he had a painful + sub-consciousness of his own unfortunate appearance, which was thrown into + cruel relief by her splendor. The tall, lithe magnificence of her form, + the airy elegance of her toilet, which seemed the perfection of + self-concealing art, the elastic deliberateness of her step—all + wrought like a gentle, deliciously soothing opiate upon the Norseman’s + fancy and lifted him into hitherto unknown regions of mingled misery and + bliss. She seemed a combination of the most divine contradictions, one + moment supremely conscious, and in the next adorably child-like and + simple, now full of arts and coquettish innuendoes, then again naïve, + unthinking and almost boyishly blunt and direct; in a word, one of those + miraculous New York girls whom abstractly one may disapprove of, but in + the concrete must abjectly adore. This easy predominance of the masculine + heart over the masculine reason in the presence of an impressive woman, + has been the motif of a thousand tragedies in times past, and will inspire + a thousand more in times to come. + </p> + <p> + Halfdan sat down at the grand piano and played Chopin’s Nocturne in G + major, flinging out that elaborate filigree of sound with an impetuosity + and superb ABANDON which caused the ladies to exchange astonished glances + behind his back. The transitions from the light and ethereal texture of + melody to the simple, more concrete theme, which he rendered with delicate + shadings of articulation, were sufficiently startling to impress even a + less cultivated ear than that of Edith Van Kirk, who had, indeed, + exhausted whatever musical resources New York has to offer. And she was + most profoundly impressed. As he glided over the last pianissimo notes + toward the two concluding chords (an ending so characteristic of Chopin) + she rose and hurried to his side with a heedless eagerness, which was more + eloquent than emphatic words of praise. + </p> + <p> + “Won’t you please repeat this passage?” she said, humming the air with + soft modulations; “I have always regarded the monotonous repetition of + this strain” (and she indicated it lightly by a few touches of the keys) + “as rather a blemish of an otherwise perfect composition. But as you play + it, it is anything but monotonous. You put into this single phrase a more + intense meaning and a greater variety of thought than I ever suspected it + was capable of expressing.” + </p> + <p> + “It is my favorite composition,” answered he, modestly. “I have bestowed + more thought upon it than upon anything I have ever played, unless perhaps + it be the one in G minor, which, with all its difference of mood and + phraseology, expresses an essentially kindred thought.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Mr. Birch,” exclaimed Mrs. Van Kirk, whom his skillful employment + of technical terms (in spite of his indifferent accent) had impressed even + more than his rendering of the music,—“you are a comsummate{sic} + artist, and we shall deem it a great privilege if you will undertake to + instruct our child. I have listened to you with profound satisfaction.” + </p> + <p> + Halfdan acknowledged the compliment by a bow and a blush, and repeated the + latter part of the nocturne according to Edith’s request. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” resumed Edith, “may I trouble you to play the G minor, which + has even puzzled me more than the one you have just played.” + </p> + <p> + “It ought really to have been played first,” replied Halfdan. “It is far + intenser in its coloring and has a more passionate ring, but its + conclusion does not seem to be final. There is no rest in it, and it seems + oddly enough to be a mere transition into the major, which is its proper + supplement and completes the fragmentary thought.” + </p> + <p> + Mother and daughter once more telegraphed wondering looks at each other, + while Halfdan plunged into the impetuous movements of the minor nocturne, + which he played to the end with ever-increasing fervor and animation. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Birch,” said Edith, as he arose from the piano with a flushed face, + and the agitation of the music still tingling through his nerves. “You are + a far greater musician than you seem to be aware of. I have not been + taking lessons for some time, but you have aroused all my musical + ambition, and if you will accept me too, as a pupil, I shall deem it a + favor.” + </p> + <p> + “I hardly know if I can teach you anything,” answered he, while his eyes + dwelt with keen delight on her beautiful form. “But in my present position + I can hardly afford to decline so flattering an offer.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean to say that you would decline it if you were in a position to do + so,” said she, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “No, only that I should question my convenience more closely.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, never mind. I take all the responsibility. I shall cheerfully consent + to being imposed upon by you.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Van Kirk in the mean while had been examining the contents of a + fragrant Russia-leather pocket-book, and she now drew out two crisp + ten-dollar notes, and held them out toward him. + </p> + <p> + “I prefer to make sure of you by paying you in advance,” said she, with a + cheerfully familiar nod, and a critical glance at his attire, the meaning + of which he did not fail to detect. “Somebody else might make the same + discovery that we have made to-day, and outbid us. And we do not want to + be cheated out of our good fortune in having been the first to secure so + valuable a prize.” + </p> + <p> + “You need have no fear on that score, madam,” retorted Halfdan, with a + vivid blush, and purposely misinterpreting the polite subterfuge. “You may + rely upon my promise. I shall be here again, as soon as you wish me to + return.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, if you please, we shall look for you to-morrow morning at ten + o’clock.” + </p> + <p> + And Mrs. Van Kirk hesitatingly folded up her notes and replaced them in + her pocket-book. + </p> + <p> + To our idealist there was something extremely odious in this sudden offer + of money. It was the first time any one had offered to pay him, and it + seemed to put him on a level with a common day-laborer. His first impulse + was to resent it as a gratuitous humiliation, but a glance at Mrs. Van + Kirk’s countenance, which was all aglow with officious benevolence, + re-assured him, and his indignation died away. + </p> + <p> + That same afternoon Olson, having been informed of his friend’s good + fortune, volunteered a loan of a hundred dollars, and accompanied him to a + fashionable tailor, where he underwent a pleasing metamorphosis. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V. + </h2> + <p> + In Norway the ladies dress with the innocent purpose of protecting + themselves against the weather; if this purpose is still remotely present + in the toilets of American women of to-day, it is, at all events, + sufficiently disguised to challenge detection, very much like a primitive + Sanscrit root in its French and English derivatives. This was the + reflection which was uppermost in Halfdan’s mind as Edith, ravishing to + behold in the airy grace of her fragrant morning toilet, at the appointed + time took her seat at his side before the piano. Her presence seemed so + intense, so all-absorbing, that it left no thought for the music. A woman, + with all the spiritual mysteries which that name implies, had always + appeared to him rather a composite phenomenon, even apart from those + varied accessories of dress, in which as by an inevitable analogy, she + sees fit to express the inner multiformity of her being. Nevertheless, + this former conception of his, when compared to that wonderful complexity + of ethereal lines, colors, tints and half-tints which go to make up the + modern New York girl, seemed inexpressibly simple, almost what plain + arithmetic must appear to a man who has mastered calculus. + </p> + <p> + Edith had opened one of those small red-covered volumes of Chopin where + the rich, wondrous melodies lie peacefully folded up like strange exotic + flowers in an herbarium. She began to play the fantasia impromtu, which + ought to be dashed off at a single “heat,” whose passionate impulse + hurries it on breathlessly toward its abrupt finale. But Edith toiled + considerably with her fingering, and blurred the keen edges of each swift + phrase by her indistinct articulation. And still there was a sufficiently + ardent intention in her play to save it from being a failure. She made a + gesture of disgust when she had finished, shut the book, and let her hands + drop crosswise in her lap. + </p> + <p> + “I only wanted to give you a proof of my incapacity,” she said, turning + her large luminous gaze upon her instructor, “in order to make you duly + appreciate what you have undertaken. Now, tell me truly and honestly, are + you not discouraged?” + </p> + <p> + “Not by any means,” replied he, while the rapture of her presence rippled + through his nerves, “you have fire enough in you to make an admirable + musician. But your fingers, as yet, refuse to carry out your fine + intentions. They only need discipline.” + </p> + <p> + “And do you suppose you can discipline them? They are a fearfully + obstinate set, and cause me infinite mortification.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you allow me to look at your hand?” + </p> + <p> + She raised her right hand, and with a sort of impulsive heedlessness let + it drop into his. An exclamation of surprise escaped him. + </p> + <p> + “If you will pardon me,” he said, “it is a superb hand—a hand + capable of performing miracles—musical miracles I mean. Only look + here”—(and he drew the fore and second fingers apart)—“so + firmly set in the joint and still so flexible. I doubt if Liszt himself + can boast a finer row of fingers. Your hands will surely not prevent you + from becoming a second Von Bulow, which to my mind means a good deal more + than a second Liszt.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, that is quite enough,” she exclaimed, with an incredulous + laugh; “you have done bravely. That at all events throws the whole burden + of responsibility upon myself, if I do not become a second somebody. I + shall be perfectly satisfied, however, if you can only make me as good a + musician as you are yourself, so that I can render a not too difficult + piece without feeling all the while that I am committing sacrilege in + mutilating the fine thoughts of some great composer.” + </p> + <p> + “You are too modest; you do not—” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, I am not modest,” she interrupted him with an impetuosity which + startled him. “I beg of you not to persist in paying me compliments. I get + too much of that cheap article elsewhere. I hate to be told that I am + better than I know I am. If you are to do me any good by your instruction, + you must be perfectly sincere toward me, and tell me plainly of my + short-comings. I promise you beforehand that I shall never be offended. + There is my hand. Now, is it a bargain?” + </p> + <p> + His fingers closed involuntarily over the soft beautiful hand, and once + more the luxury of her touch sent a thrill of delight through him. + </p> + <p> + “I have not been insincere,” he murmured, “but I shall be on my guard in + future, even against the appearance of insincerity.” + </p> + <p> + “And when I play detestably, you will say so, and not smooth it over with + unmeaning flatteries?” + </p> + <p> + “I will try.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then we shall get on well together. Do not imagine that this + is a mere feminine whim of mine. I never was more in earnest. Men, and I + believe foreigners, to a greater degree than Americans, have the idea that + women must be treated with gentle forbearance; that their follies, if they + are foolish, must be glossed over with some polite name. They exert + themselves to the utmost to make us mere playthings, and, as such, + contemptible both in our own eyes and in theirs. No sincere respect can + exist where the truth has to be avoided. But the majority of American + women are made of too stern a stuff to be dealt with in that way. They + feel the lurking insincerity even where politeness forbids them to show + it, and it makes them disgusted both with themselves, and with the + flatterer. And now you must pardon me for having spoken so plainly to you + on so short an acquaintance; but you are a foreigner, and it may be an act + of friendship to initiate you as soon as possible into our ways and + customs.” + </p> + <p> + He hardly knew what to answer. Her vehemence was so sudden, and the + sentiments she had uttered so different from those which he had habitually + ascribed to women, that he could only sit and gaze at her in mute + astonishment. He could not but admit that in the main she had judged him + rightly, and that his own attitude and that of other men toward her sex, + were based upon an implied assumption of superiority. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid I have shocked you,” she resumed, noticing the startled + expression of his countenance. “But really it was quite inevitable, if we + were at all to understand each other. You will forgive me, won’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “Forgive!” stammered he, “I have nothing to forgive. It was only your + merciless truthfulness which startled me. I rather owe you thanks, if you + will allow me to be grateful to you. It seems an enviable privilege.” + </p> + <p> + “Now,” interrupted Edith, raising her forefinger in playful threat, + “remember your promise.” + </p> + <p> + The lesson was now continued without further interruption. When it was + finished, a little girl, with her hair done up in curl-papers, and a very + stiffly starched dress, which stood out on all sides almost horizontally, + entered, accompanied by Mrs. Van Kirk. Halfdan immediately recognized his + acquaintance from the park, and it appeared to him a good omen that this + child, whose friendly interest in him had warmed his heart in a moment + when his fortunes seemed so desperate, should continue to be associated + with his life on this new continent. Clara was evidently greatly impressed + by the change in his appearance, and could with difficulty be restrained + from commenting upon it. + </p> + <p> + She proved a very apt scholar in music, and enjoyed the lessons the more + for her cordial liking of her teacher. + </p> + <p> + It will be necessary henceforth to omit the less significant details in + the career of our friend “Mr. Birch.” Before a month was past, he had + firmly established himself in the favor of the different members of the + Van Kirk family. Mrs. Van Kirk spoke of him to her lady visitors as “a + perfect jewel,” frequently leaving them in doubt as to whether he was a + cook or a coachman. Edith apostrophized him to her fashionable friends as + “a real genius,” leaving a dim impression upon their minds of flowing + locks, a shiny velvet jacket, slouched hat, defiant neck-tie and a general + air of disreputable pretentiousness. Geniuses of the foreign type were + never, in the estimation of fashionable New York society, what you would + call “exactly nice,” and against prejudices of this order no amount of + argument will ever prevail. Clara, who had by this time discovered that + her teacher possessed an inexhaustible fund of fairy stories, assured her + playmates across the street that he was “just splendid,” and frequently + invited them over to listen to his wonderful tales. Mr. Van Kirk himself, + of course, was non-committal, but paid the bills unmurmuringly. + </p> + <p> + Halfdan in the meanwhile was vainly struggling against his growing passion + for Edith; but the more he rebelled the more hopelessly he found himself + entangled in its inextricable net. The fly, as long as it keeps quiet in + the spider’s web, may for a moment forget its situation; but the least + effort to escape is apt to frustrate itself and again reveal the imminent + peril. Thus he too “kicked against the pricks,” hoped, feared, rebelled + against his destiny, and again, from sheer weariness, relapsed into a + dull, benumbed apathy. In spite of her friendly sympathy, he never felt so + keenly his alienism as in her presence. She accepted the spontaneous + homage he paid her, sometimes with impatience, as something that was + really beneath her notice; at other times she frankly recognized it, + bantered him with his “Old World chivalry,” which would soon evaporate in + the practical American atmosphere, and called him her Viking, her knight + and her faithful squire. But it never occurred to her to regard his + devotion in a serious light, and to look upon him as a possible lover had + evidently never entered her head. As their intercourse grew more intimate, + he had volunteered to read his favorite poets with her, and had gradually + succeeded in imparting to her something of his own passionate liking for + Heine and Björnson. She had in return called his attention to the works of + American authors who had hitherto been little more than names to him, and + they had thus managed to be of mutual benefit to each other, and to spend + many a pleasant hour during the long winter afternoons in each other’s + company. But Edith had a very keen sense of humor, and could hardly + restrain her secret amusement when she heard him reading Longfellow’s + “Psalm of Life” and Poe’s “Raven” (which had been familiar to her from her + babyhood), often with false accent, but always with intense enthusiasm. + The reflection that he had had no part of his life in common with her,—that + he did not love the things which she loved,—could not share her + prejudices (and women have a feeling akin to contempt for a man who does + not respond to their prejudices)—removed him at times almost beyond + the reach of her sympathy. It was interesting enough as long as the + experience was novel, to be thus unconsciously exploring another person’s + mind and finding so many strange objects there; but after a while the + thing began to assume an uncomfortably serious aspect, and then there + seemed to be something almost terrible about it. At such times a call from + a gentleman of her own nation, even though he were one of the placidly + stupid type, would be a positive relief; she could abandon herself to the + secure sense of being at home; she need fear no surprises, and in the + smooth shallows of their talk there were no unsuspected depths to excite + and to baffle her ingenuity. And, again, reverting in her thought to + Halfdan, his conversational brilliancy would almost repel her, as + something odious and un-American, the cheap result of outlandish birth and + unrepublican education. Not that she had ever valued republicanism very + highly; she was one of those who associated politics with noisy vulgarity + in speech and dress, and therefore thanked fortune that women were + permitted to keep aloof from it. But in the presence of this alien she + found herself growing patriotic; that much-discussed abstraction, which we + call our country (and which is nothing but the aggregate of all the slow + and invisible influences which go toward making up our own being), became + by degrees a very palpable and intelligible fact to her. + </p> + <p> + Frequently while her American self was thus loudly asserting itself, Edith + inflicted many a cruel wound upon her foreign adorer. Once,—it was + the Fourth of July, more than a year after Halfdan’s arrival, a number of + young ladies and gentlemen, after having listened to a patriotic oration, + were invited in to an informal luncheon. While waiting, they naturally + enough spent their time in singing national songs, and Halfdan’s clear + tenor did good service in keeping the straggling voices together. When + they had finished, Edith went up to him and was quite effusive in her + expressions of gratitude. + </p> + <p> + “I am sure we ought all to be very grateful to you, Mr. Birch,” she said, + “and I, for my part, can assure you that I am.” + </p> + <p> + “Grateful? Why?” demanded Halfdan, looking quite unhappy. + </p> + <p> + “For singing OUR national songs, of course. Now, won’t you sing one of + your own, please? We should all be so delighted to hear how a Swedish—or + Norwegian, is it?—national song sounds.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Mr. Birch, DO sing a Swedish song,” echoed several voices. + </p> + <p> + They, of course, did not even remotely suspect their own cruelty. He had, + in his enthusiasm for the day allowed himself to forget that he was not + made of the same clay as they were, that he was an exile and a stranger, + and must ever remain so, that he had no right to share their joy in the + blessing of liberty. Edith had taken pains to dispel the happy illusion, + and had sent him once more whirling toward his cold native Pole. His + passion came near choking him, and, to conceal his impetuous emotion, he + flung himself down on the piano-stool, and struck some introductory chords + with perhaps a little superfluous emphasis. Suddenly his voice burst out + into the Swedish national anthem, “Our Land, our Land, our Fatherland,” + and the air shook and palpitated with strong martial melody. His + indignation, his love and his misery, imparted strength to his voice, and + its occasional tremble in the PIANO passages was something more than an + artistic intention. He was loudly applauded as he arose, and the young + ladies thronged about him to ask if he “wouldn’t please write out the + music for them.” + </p> + <p> + Thus month after month passed by, and every day brought its own misery. + Mrs. Van Kirk’s patronizing manners, and ostentatious kindness, often + tested his patience to the utmost. If he was guilty of an innocent + witticism or a little quaintness of expression, she always assumed it to + be a mistake of terms and corrected him with an air of benign superiority. + At times, of course, her corrections were legitimate, as for instance, + when he spoke of WEARING a cane, instead of CARRYING one, but in nine + cases out of ten the fault lay in her own lack of imagination and not in + his ignorance of English. On such occasions Edith often took pity on him, + defended him against her mother’s criticism, and insisted that if this or + that expression was not in common vogue, that was no reason why it should + not be used, as it was perfectly grammatical, and, moreover, in keeping + with the spirit of the language. And he, listening passively in admiring + silence to her argument, thanked her even for the momentary pain because + it was followed by so great a happiness. For it was so sweet to be + defended by Edith, to feel that he and she were standing together side by + side against the outer world. Could he only show her in the old heroic + manner how much he loved her! Would only some one that was dear to her + die, so that he, in that breaking down of social barriers which follows a + great calamity, might comfort her in her sorrow. Would she then, perhaps, + weeping, lean her wonderful head upon his breast, feeling but that he was + a fellow-mortal, who had a heart that was loyal and true, and forgetting, + for one brief instant, that he was a foreigner. Then, to touch that + delicate Elizabethan frill which wound itself so daintily about Edith’s + neck—what inconceivable rapture! But it was quite impossible. It + could never be. These were selfish thoughts, no doubt, but they were a + lover’s selfishness, and, as such, bore a close kinship to all that is + purest and best in human nature. + </p> + <p> + It is one of the tragic facts of this life, that a relation so unequal as + that which existed between Halfdan and Edith, is at all possible. As for + Edith, I must admit that she was well aware that her teacher was in love + with her. Women have wonderfully keen senses for phenomena of that kind, + and it is an illusion if any one imagines, as our Norseman did, that he + has locked his secret securely in the hidden chamber of his heart. In + fleeting intonations, unconscious glances and attitudes, and through a + hundred other channels it will make its way out, and the bereaved jailer + may still clasp his key in fierce triumph, never knowing that he has been + robbed. It was of course no fault of Edith’s that she had become possessed + of Halfdan’s heart-secret. She regarded it as on the whole rather an + absurd affair, and prized it very lightly. That a love so strong and yet + so humble, so destitute of hope and still so unchanging, reverent and + faithful, had something grand and touching in it, had never occurred to + her. It is a truism to say that in our social code the value of a man’s + character is determined by his position; and fine traits in a foreigner + (unless he should happen to be something very great) strike us rather as + part of a supposed mental alienism, and as such, naturally suspicious. It + is rather disgraceful than otherwise to have your music teacher in love + with you, and critical friends will never quite banish the suspicion that + you have encouraged him. + </p> + <p> + Edith had, in her first delight at the discovery of Halfdan’s talent, + frankly admitted him to a relation of apparent equality. He was a man of + culture, had the manners and bearing of a gentleman, and had none of those + theatrical airs which so often raise a sort of invisible wall between + foreigners and Americans. Her mother, who loved to play the patron, + especially to young men, had invited him to dinner-parties and introduced + him to their friends, until almost every one looked upon him as a protege + of the family. He appeared so well in a parlor, and had really such a + distinguished presence, that it was a pleasure to look at him. He was + remarkably free from those obnoxious traits which generalizing American + travelers have led us to believe were inseparable from foreign birth; his + finger-nails were in no way conspicuous; he did not, as a French count, a + former adorer of Edith’s, had done, indulge an unmasculine taste for + diamond rings (possibly because he had none); his politeness was + unobtrusive and subdued, and of his accent there was just enough left to + give an agreeable color of individuality to his speech. But, for all that, + Edith could never quite rid herself of the impression that he was + intensely un-American. There was a certain idyllic quiescence about him, a + child-like directness and simplicity, and a total absence of “push,” which + were startlingly at variance with the spirit of American life. An American + could never have been content to remain in an inferior position without + trying, in some way, to better his fortunes. But Halfdan could stand still + and see, without the faintest stirring of envy, his plebeian friend Olson, + whose education and talents could bear no comparison with his own, rise + rapidly above him, and apparently have no desire to emulate him. He could + sit on a cricket in a corner, with Clara on his lap, and two or three + little girls nestling about him, and tell them fairy stories by the hour, + while his kindly face beamed with innocent happiness. And if Clara, to + coax him into continuing the entertainment, offered to kiss him, his + measure of joy was full. This fair child, with her affectionate ways, and + her confiding prattle, wound herself ever more closely about his homeless + heart, and he clung to her with a touching devotion. For she was the only + one who seemed to be unconscious of the difference of blood, who had not + yet learned that she was an American and he—a foreigner. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI. + </h2> + <p> + Three years had passed by and still the situation was unchanged. Halfdan + still taught music and told fairy stories to the children. He had a good + many more pupils now than three years ago, although he had made no effort + to solicit patronage, and had never tried to advertise his talent by what + he regarded as vulgar and inartistic display. But Mrs. Van Kirk, who had + by this time discovered his disinclination to assert himself, had been + only the more active; had “talked him up” among her aristocratic friends; + had given musical soirees, at which she had coaxed him to play the + principal role, and had in various other ways exerted herself in his + behalf. It was getting to be quite fashionable to admire his quiet, + unostentatious style of playing, which was so far removed from the noisy + bravado and clap-trap then commonly in vogue. Even professional musicians + began to indorse him, and some, who had discovered that “there was money + in him,” made him tempting offers for a public engagement. But, with + characteristic modesty, he distrusted their verdict; his sensitive nature + shrank from anything which had the appearance of self-assertion or + display. + </p> + <p> + But Edith—ah, if it had not been for Edith he might have found + courage to enter at the door of fortune, which was now opened ajar. That + fame, if he should gain it, would bring him any nearer to her, was a + thought that was alien to so unworldly a temperament as his. And any + action that had no bearing upon his relation to her, left him cold—seemed + unworthy of the effort. If she had asked him to play in public; if she had + required of him to go to the North Pole, or to cut his own throat, I + verily believe he would have done it. And at last Edith did ask him to + play. She and Olson had plotted together, and from the very friendliest + motives agreed to play into each other’s hands. + </p> + <p> + “If you only WOULD consent to play,” said she, in her own persuasive way, + one day as they had finished their lesson, “we should all be so happy. + Only think how proud we should be of your success, for you know there is + nothing you can’t do in the way of music if you really want to.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you really think so?” exclaimed he, while his eyes suddenly grew large + and luminous. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed I do,” said Edith, emphatically. + </p> + <p> + “And if—if I played well,” faltered he, “would it really please + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course it would,” cried Edith, laughing; “how can you ask such a + foolish question?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I hardly dared to believe it.” + </p> + <p> + “Now listen to me,” continued the girl, leaning forward in her chair, and + beaming all over with kindly officiousness; “now for once you must be + rational and do just what I tell you. I shall never like you again if you + oppose me in this, for I have set my heart upon it; you must promise + beforehand that you will be good and not make any objection. Do you hear?” + </p> + <p> + When Edith assumed this tone toward him, she might well have made him + promise to perform miracles. She was too intent upon her benevolent scheme + to heed the possible inferences which he might draw from her sudden + display of interest. + </p> + <p> + “Then you promise?” repeated she, eagerly, as he hesitated to answer. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I promise.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, you must not be surprised; but mamma and I have made arrangements + with Mr. S—— that you are to appear under his auspices at a + concert which is to be given a week from to-night. All our friends are + going, and we shall take up all the front seats, and I have already told + my gentlemen friends to scatter through the audience, and if they care + anything for my favor, they will have to applaud vigorously.” + </p> + <p> + Halfdan reddened up to his temples, and began to twist his watch-chain + nervously. + </p> + <p> + “You must have small confidence in my ability,” he murmured, “since you + resort to precautions like these.” + </p> + <p> + “But my dear Mr. Birch,” cried Edith, who was quick to discover that she + had made a mistake, “it is not kind in you to mistrust me in that way. If + a New York audience were as highly cultivated in music as you are, I admit + that my precautions would be superfluous. But the papers, you know, will + take their tone from the audience, and therefore we must make use of a + little innocent artifice to make sure of it. Everything depends upon the + success of your first public appearance, and if your friends can in this + way help you to establish the reputation which is nothing but your right, + I am sure you ought not to bind their hands by your foolish sensitiveness. + You don’t know the American way of doing things as well as I do, therefore + you must stand by your promise, and leave everything to me.” + </p> + <p> + It was impossible not to believe that anything Edith chose to do was above + reproach. She looked so bewitching in her excited eagerness for his + welfare that it would have been inhuman to oppose her. So he meekly + succumbed, and began to discuss with her the programme for the concert. + </p> + <p> + During the next week there was hardly a day that he did not read some + startling paragraph in the newspapers about “the celebrated Scandinavian + pianist,” whose appearance at S—— Hall was looked forward to + as the principal event of the coming season. He inwardly rebelled against + the well-meant exaggerations; but as he suspected that it was Edith’s + influence which was in this way asserting itself in his behalf, he set his + conscience at rest and remained silent. + </p> + <p> + The evening of the concert came at last, and, as the papers stated the + next morning, “the large hall was crowded to its utmost capacity with a + select and highly appreciative audience.” Edith must have played her part + of the performance skillfully, for as he walked out upon the stage, he was + welcomed with an enthusiastic burst of applause, as if he had been a + world-renowned artist. At Edith’s suggestion, her two favorite nocturnes + had been placed first upon the programme; then followed one of those + ballads of Chopin, whose rhythmic din and rush sweep onward, beleaguering + the ear like eager, melodious hosts, charging in thickening ranks and + columns, beating impetuous retreats, and again uniting with one grand + emotion the wide-spreading army of sound for the final victory. Besides + these, there was one of Liszt’s “Rhapsodies Hongroises,” an impromptu by + Schubert, and several orchestral pieces; but the greater part of the + programme was devoted to Chopin, because Halfdan, with his great, hopeless + passion laboring in his breast, felt that he could interpret Chopin better + than he could any other composer. He carried his audience by storm. As he + retired to the dressing-room, after having finished the last piece, his + friends, among whom Edith and Mrs. Van Kirk were the most conspicuous, + thronged about him, showering their praises and congratulations upon him. + They insisted with much friendly urging upon taking him home in their + carriage; Clara kissed him, Mrs. Van Kirk introduced him to her lady + acquaintances as “our friend, Mr. Birch,” and Edith held his hand so long + in hers that he came near losing his presence of mind and telling her then + and there that he loved her. As his eyes rested on her, they became + suddenly suffused with tears, and a vast bewildering happiness vibrated + through his frame. At last he tore himself away and wandered aimlessly + through the long, lonely streets. Why could he not tell Edith that he + loved her? Was there any disgrace in loving? This heavenly passion which + so suddenly had transfused his being, and year by year deadened the + substance of his old self, creating in its stead something new and wild + and strange which he never could know, but still held infinitely dear—had + it been sent to him merely as a scourge to test his capacity for + suffering? + </p> + <p> + Once, while he was a child, his mother had told him that somewhere in this + wide world there lived a maiden whom God had created for him, and for him + alone, and when he should see her, he should love her, and his life should + thenceforth be all for her. It had hardly occurred to him, then, to + question whether she would love him in return, it had appeared so very + natural that she should. Now he had found this maiden, and she had been + very kind to him; but her kindness had been little better than cruelty, + because he had demanded something more than kindness. And still he had + never told her of his love. He must tell her even this very night while + the moon rode high in the heavens and all the small differences between + human beings seemed lost in the vast starlit stillness. He knew well that + by the relentless glare of the daylight his own insignificance would be + cruelly conspicuous in the presence of her splendor; his scruples would + revive, and his courage fade. + </p> + <p> + The night was clear and still. A clock struck eleven in some church tower + near by. The Van Kirk mansion rose tall and stately in the moonlight, + flinging a dense mass of shadow across the street. Up in the third story + he saw two windows lighted; the curtains were drawn, but the blinds were + not closed. All the rest of the house was dark. He raised his voice and + sang a Swedish serenade which seemed in perfect concord with his own mood. + His clear tenor rose through the silence of the night, and a feeble echo + flung it back from the mansion opposite: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <a href="#linknote-3" name="linknoteref-3" id="linknoteref-3">3</a> “Star, sweet star, that brightly beamest, + Glittering on the skies nocturnal, + Hide thine eye no more from me, + Hide thine eye no more from me!” + </pre> + <p> + The curtain was drawn aside, the window cautiously raised, and the outline + of Edith’s beautiful head appeared dark and distinct against the light + within. She instantly recognized him. + </p> + <p> + “You must go away, Mr. Birch,” came her voice in an anxious whisper out of + the shadow. “Pray go away. You will wake up the people.” + </p> + <p> + Her words were audible enough, but they failed to convey any meaning to + his excited mind. Once more his voice floated upward to her opened window: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “And I yearn to reach thy dwelling, + Yearn to rise from earth’s fierce turmoil; + Sweetest star upward to thee, + Yearn to rise, bright star to thee.” + </pre> + <p> + “Dear Mr. Birch,” she whispered once more in tones of distress. “Pray DO + go away. Or perhaps,” she interrupted herself “—wait one moment and + I will come down.” + </p> + <p> + Presently the front door was noiselessly opened, and Edith’s tall, lithe + form, dressed in a white flowing dress, and with her blonde hair rolling + loosely over her shoulders, appeared for an instant, and then again + vanished. With one leap Halfdan sprang up the stairs and pushed through + the half-opened door. Edith closed the door behind him, then with rapid + steps led the way to the back parlor where the moon broke feebly through + the bars of the closed shutters. + </p> + <p> + “Now Mr. Birch,” she said, seating herself upon a lounge, “you may explain + to me what this unaccountable behavior of yours means. I should hardly + think I had deserved to be treated in this way by you.” + </p> + <p> + Halfdan was utterly bewildered; a nervous fit of trembling ran through + him, and he endeavored in vain to speak. He had been prepared for + passionate reproaches, but this calm severity chilled him through, and he + could only gasp and tremble, but could utter no word in his defense. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you are aware,” continued Edith, in the same imperturbable + manner, “that if I had not interrupted you, the policeman would have heard + you, and you would have been arrested for street disturbance. Then + to-morrow we should have seen it in all the newspapers, and I should have + been the laughing-stock of the whole town.” + </p> + <p> + No, surely he had never thought of it in that light; the idea struck him + as entirely new. There was a long pause. A cock crowed with a drowsy + remoteness in some neighboring yard, and the little clock on the + mantel-piece ticked on patiently in the moonlit dusk. + </p> + <p> + “If you have nothing to say,” resumed Edith, while the stern indifference + in her voice perceptibly relaxed, “then I will bid you good-night.” + </p> + <p> + She arose, and with a grand sweep of her drapery, moved toward the door. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Edith,” cried he, stretching his hands despairingly after her, “you + must not leave me.” + </p> + <p> + She paused, tossed her hair back with her hands, and gazed at him over her + shoulder. He threw himself on his knees, seized the hem of her dress, and + pressed it to his lips. It was a gesture of such inexpressible humility + that even a stone would have relented. + </p> + <p> + “Do not be foolish, Mr. Birch,” she said, trying to pull her dress away + from him. “Get up, and if you have anything rational to say to me, I will + stay and listen.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” he whispered, hoarsely, “I shall be rational. Only do not + leave me.” + </p> + <p> + She again sank down wearily upon the lounge, and looked at him in + expectant silence. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Edith,” pleaded he in the same hoarse, passionate undertone, “have + pity on me, and do not despise me. I love you—oh—if you would + but allow me to die for you, I should be the happiest of men.” + </p> + <p> + Again he shuddered, and stood long gazing at her with a mute, pitiful + appeal. A tear stole into Edith’s eye and trickled down over her cheek. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Mr. Birch,” she murmured, while a sigh shook her bosom, “I am sorry—very + sorry that this misfortune has happened to you. You have deserved a better + fate than to love me—to love a woman who can never give you anything + in return for what you give her.” + </p> + <p> + “Never?” he repeated mournfully, “never?” + </p> + <p> + “No, never! You have been a good friend to me, and as such I value you + highly, and I had hoped that you would always remain so. But I see that it + cannot be. It will perhaps be best for you henceforth not to see me, at + least not until—pardon the expression—you have outlived this + generous folly. And now, you know, you will need me no more. You have made + a splendid reputation, and if you choose to avail yourself of it, your + fortune is already made. I shall always rejoice to hear of your success, + and—and if you should ever need a FRIEND, you must come to no one + but me. I know that these are feeble words, Mr. Birch, and if they seem + cold to you, you must pardon me. I can say nothing more.” + </p> + <p> + They were indeed feeble words, although most cordially spoken. He tried to + weigh them, to measure their meaning, but his mind was as if benumbed, and + utterly incapable of thought. He walked across the floor, perhaps only to + do something, not feeling where he trod, but still with an absurd + sensation that he was taking immoderately long steps. Then he stopped + abruptly, wrung his hands, and gazed at Edith. And suddenly, like a flash + in a vacuum, the thought shot through his brain that he had seen this very + scene somewhere—in a dream, in a remote childhood, in a previous + existence, he did not know when or where. It seemed strangely familiar, + and in the next instant strangely meaningless and unreal. The walls, the + floor—everything began to move, to whirl about him; he struck his + hands against his forehead, and sank down into a damask-covered + easy-chair. With a faint cry of alarm, Edith sprang up, seized a bottle of + cologne which happened to be within reach, and knelt down at his side. She + put her arm around his neck, and raised his head. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Birch, dear Mr. Birch,” she cried, in a frightened whisper, “for + God’s sake come to yourself! O God, what have I done?” + </p> + <p> + She blew the eau-de-cologne into his face, and, as he languidly opened his + eyes, he felt the touch of her warm hand upon his cheeks and his forehead. + </p> + <p> + “Thank heaven! he is better,” she murmured, still continuing to bathe his + temples. “How do you feel now, Mr. Birch?” she added, in a tone of anxious + inquiry. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, it was an unpardonable weakness,” he muttered, without + changing his attitude. “Do not trouble yourself about me. I shall soon be + well.” + </p> + <p> + It was so sweet to be conscious of her gentle ministry, that it required a + great effort, an effort of conscience, to rouse him once more, as his + strength returned. + </p> + <p> + “Had you not better stay?” she asked, as he rose to put on his overcoat. + “I will call one of the servants and have him show you a room. We will say + to-morrow morning that you were taken ill, and nobody will wonder.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” he responded, energetically. “I am perfectly strong now.” But he + still had to lean on a chair, and his face was deathly pale. + </p> + <p> + “Farewell, Miss Edith,” he said; and a tender sadness trembled in his + voice. “Farewell. We shall—probably—never meet again.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not speak so,” she answered, seizing his hand. “You will try to forget + this, and you will still be great and happy. And when fortune shall again + smile upon you, and—and—you will be content to be my friend, + then we shall see each other as before.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” he broke forth, with a sudden hoarseness. “It will never be.” + </p> + <p> + He walked toward the door with the motions of one who feels death in his + limbs; then stopped once more and his eyes lingered with inexpressible + sadness on the wonderful, beloved form which stood dimly outlined before + him in the twilight. Then Edith’s measure of misery, too, seemed full. + With the divine heedlessness which belongs to her sex, she rushed up + toward him, and remembering only that he was weak and unhappy, and that he + suffered for her sake, she took his face between her hands and kissed him. + He was too generous a man to misinterpret the act; so he whispered but + once more: “Farewell,” and hastened away. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VII. + </h2> + <p> + After that eventful December night, America was no more what it had been + to Halfdan Bjerk. A strange torpidity had come over him; every rising day + gazed into his eyes with a fierce unmeaning glare. The noise of the street + annoyed him and made him childishly fretful, and the solitude of his own + room seemed still more dreary and depressing. He went mechanically through + the daily routine of his duties as if the soul had been taken out of his + work, and left his life all barrenness and desolation. He moved restlessly + from place to place, roamed at all times of the day and night through the + city and its suburbs, trying vainly to exhaust his physical strength; + gradually, as his lethargy deepened into a numb, helpless despair, it + seemed somehow to impart a certain toughness to his otherwise delicate + frame. Olson, who was now a junior partner in the firm of Remsen, Van Kirk + and Co., stood by him faithfully in these days of sorrow. He was never + effusive in his sympathy, but was patiently forbearing with his friend’s + whims and moods, and humored him as if he had been a sick child intrusted + to his custody. That Edith might be the moving cause of Olson’s kindness + was a thought which, strangely enough, had never occurred to Halfdan. + </p> + <p> + At last, when spring came, the vacancy of his mind was suddenly invaded + with a strong desire to revisit his native land. He disclosed his plan to + Olson, who, after due deliberation and several visits to the Van Kirk + mansion, decided that the pleasure of seeing his old friends and the + scenes of his childhood might push the painful memories out of sight, and + renew his interest in life. So, one morning, while the May sun shone with + a soft radiance upon the beautiful harbor, our Norseman found himself + standing on the deck of a huge black-hulled Cunarder, shivering in spite + of the warmth, and feeling a chill loneliness creeping over him at the + sight of the kissing and affectionate leave-takings which were going on + all around him. Olson was running back and forth, attending to his + baggage; but he himself took no thought, and felt no more responsibility + than if he had been a helpless child. He half regretted that his own wish + had prevailed, and was inclined to hold his friend responsible for it; and + still he had not energy enough to protest now when the journey seemed + inevitable. His heart still clung to the place which held the corpse of + his ruined life, as a man may cling to the spot which hides his beloved + dead. + </p> + <p> + About two weeks later Halfdan landed in Norway. He was half reluctant to + leave the steamer, and the land of his birth excited no emotion in his + breast. He was but conscious of a dim regret that he was so far away from + Edith. At last, however, he betook himself to a hotel, where he spent the + afternoon sitting with half-closed eyes at a window, watching listlessly + the drowsy slow-pulsed life which dribbled languidly through the narrow + thoroughfare. The noisy uproar of Broadway chimed remotely in his ears, + like the distant roar of a tempest-tossed sea, and what had once been a + perpetual annoyance was now a sweet memory. How often with Edith at his + side had he threaded his way through the surging crowds that pour, on a + fine afternoon, in an unceasing current up and down the street between + Union and Madison Squares. How friendly, and sweet, and gracious, Edith + had been at such times; how fresh her voice, how witty and animated her + chance remarks when they stopped to greet a passing acquaintance; and, + above all, how inspiring the sight of her heavenly beauty. Now that was + all past. Perhaps he should never see Edith again. + </p> + <p> + The next day he sauntered through the city, meeting some old friends, who + all seemed changed and singularly uninteresting. They were all engaged or + married, and could talk of nothing but matrimony, and their prospects of + advancement in the Government service. One had an influential uncle who + had been a chum of the present minister of finance; another based his + hopes of future prosperity upon the family connections of his betrothed, + and a third was waiting with a patient perseverance, worthy of a better + cause, for the death or resignation of an antiquated chef-de-bureau, + which, according to the promise of some mighty man, would open a position + for him in the Department of Justice. All had the most absurd theories + about American democracy, and indulged freely in prophecies of coming + disasters; but about their own government they had no opinion whatever. If + Halfdan attempted to set them right, they at once grew excited and + declamatory; their opinions were based upon conviction and a charming + ignorance of facts, and they were not to be moved. They knew all about + Tweed and the Tammany Ring, and believed them to be representative + citizens of New York, if not of the United States; but of Charles Sumner + and Carl Schurz they had never heard. Halfdan, who, in spite of his + misfortunes in the land of his adoption, cherished a very tender feeling + for it, was often so thoroughly aroused at the foolish prejudices which + everywhere met him, that his torpidity gradually thawed away, and he began + to look more like his former self. + </p> + <p> + Toward autumn he received an invitation to visit a country clergyman in + the North, a distant relative of his father’s, and there whiled away his + time, fishing and shooting, until winter came. But as Christmas drew near, + and the day wrestled feebly with the all-conquering night, the old sorrow + revived. In the darkness which now brooded over land and sea, the thoughts + needed no longer be on guard against themselves; they could roam far and + wide as they listed. Where was Edith now, the sweet, the wonderful Edith? + Was there yet the same dancing light in her beautiful eyes, the same + golden sheen in her hair, the same merry ring in her voice? And had she + not said that when he was content to be only her friend, he might return + to her, and she would receive him in the old joyous and confiding way? + Surely there was no life to him apart from her: why should he not be her + friend? Only a glimpse of her lovely face—ah, it was worth a + lifetime; it would consecrate an age of misery, a glimpse of Edith’s face. + Thus ran his fancies day by day, and the night only lent a deeper + intensity to the yearnings of the day. He walked about as in a dream, + seeing nothing, heeding nothing, while this one strong desire—to see + Edith once more—throbbed and throbbed with a slow, feverish + perseverance within him. Edith—Edith, the very name had a strange, + potent fascination. Every thought whispered “Edith,”—his pulse beat + “Edith,”—and his heart repeated the beloved name. It was his + pulse-beat,—his heartbeat,—his life-beat. + </p> + <p> + And one morning as he stood absently looking at his fingers against the + light—and they seemed strangely wan and transparent—the + thought at last took shape. It rushed upon him with such vehemence, that + he could no more resist it. So he bade the clergyman good-bye, gathered + his few worldly goods together and set out for Bergen. There he found an + English steamer which carried him to Hull, and a few weeks later, he was + once more in New York. + </p> + <p> + It was late one evening in January that a tug-boat arrived and took the + cabin passengers ashore. The moon sailed tranquilly over the deep blue + dome of the sky, the stars traced their glittering paths of light from the + zenith downward, and it was sharp, bitter cold. Northward over the river + lay a great bank of cloud, dense, gray and massive, the spectre of the + coming snow-storm. There it lay so huge and fantastically human, ruffling + itself up, as fowls do, in defense against the cold. Halfdan walked on at + a brisk rate—strange to say, all the street-cars he met went the + wrong way—startling every now and then some precious memory, some + word or look or gesture of Edith’s which had hovered long over those + scenes, waiting for his recognition. There was the great jewel-store where + Edith had taken him so often to consult his taste whenever a friend of + hers was to be married. It was there that they had had an amicable quarrel + over that bronze statue of Faust which she had found beautiful, while he, + with a rudeness which seemed now quite incomprehensible, had insisted that + it was not. And when he had failed to convince her, she had given him her + hand in token of reconciliation—and Edith had a wonderful way of + giving her hand, which made any one feel that it was a peculiar privilege + to press it—and they had walked out arm in arm into the animated, + gas-lighted streets, with a delicious sense of snugness and security, + being all the more closely united for their quarrel. Here, farther up the + avenue, they had once been to a party, and he had danced for the first + time in his life with Edith. Here was Delmonico’s, where they had had such + fascinating luncheons together; where she had got a stain on her dress, + and he had been forced to observe that her dress was then not really a + part of herself, since it was a thing that could not be stained. Her dress + had always seemed to him as something absolute and final, exalted above + criticism, incapable of improvement. + </p> + <p> + As I have said, Halfdan walked briskly up the avenue, and it was something + after eleven when he reached the house which he sought. The great + cloud-bank in the north had then begun to expand and stretched its long + misty arms eastward and westward over the heavens. The windows on the + ground-floor were dark, but the sleeping apartments in the upper stories + were lighted. In Edith’s room the inside shutters were closed, but one of + the windows was a little down at the top. And as he stood gazing with + tremulous happiness up to that window, a stanza from Heine which he and + Edith had often read together, came into his head. It was the story of the + youth who goes to the Madonna at Kevlar and brings her as a votive + offering a heart of wax, that she may heal him of his love and his sorrow. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “I bring this waxen image, + The image of my heart, + Heal thou my bitter sorrow, + And cure my deadly smart!” <a href="#linknote-4" name="linknoteref-4" + id="linknoteref-4">4</a> +</pre> + <p> + Then came the thought that for him, too, as for the poor youth of Cologne, + there was healing only in death. And still in this moment he was so near + Edith, should see her perhaps, and the joy at this was stronger than all + else, stronger even than death. So he sat down beside the steps of the + mansion opposite, where there was some shelter from the wind, and waited + patiently till Edith should close her window. He was cold, perhaps, but, + if so, he hardly knew it, for the near joy of seeing her throbbed warmly + in his veins. Ah, there—the blinds were thrown open; Edith, in all + the lithe magnificence of her wonderful form, stood out clear and + beautiful against the light within; she pushed up the lower window in + order to reach the upper one, and for a moment leaned out over the sill. + Once more her wondrous profile traced itself in strong relief against the + outer gloom. There came a cry from the street below, a feeble involuntary + one, but still distinctly audible. Edith peered anxiously out into the + darkness, but the darkness had grown denser and she could see nothing. The + window was fastened, the shutters closed, and the broad pathway of light + which she had flung out upon the night had vanished. + </p> + <p> + Halfdan closed his eyes trying to retain the happy vision. Yes, there she + stood still, and there was a heavenly smile upon her lips—ugh, he + shivered—the snow swept in a wild whirl up the street. He wrapped + his plaid more closely about him, and strained his eyes to catch one more + glimpse of the beloved Edith. Ah, yes; there she was again; she came + nearer and nearer, and she touched his cheek, gently, warily smiling all + the while with a strange wistful smile which was surely not Edith’s. + There, she bent over him,—touched him again,—how cold her + hands were; the touch chilled him to the heart. The snow had now begun to + fall in large scattered flakes, whirling fitfully through the air, + following every chance gust of wind, but still falling, falling, and + covering the earth with its white, death-like shroud. + </p> + <p> + But surely—there was Edith again,—how wonderful!—in a + long snow-white robe, grave and gracious, still with the wistful smile on + her lips. See, she beckons to him with her hand, and he rises to follow, + but something heavy clings to his feet and he cannot stir from the spot. + He tries to cry for help, but he cannot,—can only stretch out his + hands to her, and feel very unhappy that he cannot follow her. But now she + pauses in her flight, turns about, and he sees that she wears a myrtle + garland in her hair like a bride. She comes toward him, her countenance + all radiant with love and happiness, and she stoops down over him and + speaks: + </p> + <p> + “Come; they are waiting for us. I will follow thee in life and in death, + wherever thou goest. Come,” repeats Edith, “they have long been waiting. + They are all here.” + </p> + <p> + And he imagines he knows who they all are, although he has never heard of + them, nor can he recall their names. + </p> + <p> + “But—but,” he stammers, “I—I—am a foreigner ” + </p> + <p> + It appeared then that for some reason this was an insurmountable + objection. And Edith’s happiness dies out of her beautiful face, and she + turns away weeping. + </p> + <p> + “Edith, beloved!” + </p> + <p> + Then she is once more at his side. + </p> + <p> + “Thou art no more a foreigner to me, beloved. Whatever thou art, I am.” + </p> + <p> + And she presses her lips to his—it was the sweetest kiss of his life—the + kiss of death. + </p> + <p> + The next morning, as Edith, after having put the last touch to her toilet, + threw the shutters open, a great glare of sun-smitten snow burst upon her + and for a moment blinded her eyes. On the sidewalk opposite, half a dozen + men with snow-shovels in their hands and a couple of policeman had + congregated, and, judging by their manner, were discussing some object of + interest. Presently they were joined by her father, who had just finished + his breakfast and was on his way to the office. Now he stooped down and + gazed at something half concealed in the snow, then suddenly started back, + and as she caught a glimpse of his face, she saw that it was ghastly + white. A terrible foreboding seized her. She threw a shawl about her + shoulders and rushed down-stairs. In the hall she was met by her father, + who was just entering, followed by four men, carrying something between + them. She well knew what it was. She would fain have turned away, but she + could not: grasping her father’s arm and pressing it hard, she gazed with + blank, frightened eyes at the white face, the lines of which Death had so + strangely emphasized. The snow-flakes which hung in his hair had touched + him with their sudden age, as if to bridge the gulf between youth and + death. And still he was beautiful—the clear brow, the peaceful, + happy indolence, the frozen smile which death had perpetuated. Smiling, he + had departed from the earth which had no place for him, and smiling + entered the realm where, among the many mansions, there is, perhaps, also + one for a gentle, simple-hearted enthusiast. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE STORY OF AN OUTCAST. + </h2> + <p> + THERE was an ancient feud between the families; and Bjarne Blakstad was + not the man to make it up, neither was Hedin Ullern. So they looked + askance at each other whenever they met on the highway, and the one took + care not to cross the other’s path. But on Sundays, when the church-bells + called the parishioners together, they could not very well avoid seeing + each other on the church-yard; and then, one day, many years ago, when the + sermon had happened to touch Bjarne’s heart, he had nodded to Hedin and + said: “Fine weather to-day;” and Hedin had returned the nod and answered: + “True is that.” “Now I have done my duty before God and men,” thought + Bjarne, “and it is his turn to take the next step.” “The fellow is proud,” + said Hedin to himself, “and he wants to show off his generosity. But I + know the wolf by his skin, even if he has learned to bleat like a + ewe-lamb.” + </p> + <p> + What the feud really was about, they had both nearly forgotten. All they + knew was that some thirty years ago there had been a quarrel between the + pastor and the parish about the right of carrying arms to the church. And + then Bjarne’s father had been the spokesman of the parish, while Hedin’s + grandsire had been a staunch defender of the pastor. There was a rumor, + too, that they had had a fierce encounter somewhere in the woods, and that + the one had stabbed the other with a knife; but whether that was really + true, no one could tell. + </p> + <p> + Bjarne was tall and grave, like the weather-beaten fir-trees in his + mast-forest. He had a large clean-shaven face, narrow lips, and small + fierce eyes. He seldom laughed, and when he did, his laugh seemed even + fiercer than his frown. He wore his hair long, as his fathers had done, + and dressed in the styles of two centuries ago; his breeches were clasped + with large silver buckles at the knees, and his red jerkin was gathered + about his waist with a leathern girdle. He loved everything that was old, + in dress as well as in manners, took no newspapers, and regarded railroads + and steamboats as inventions of the devil. Bjarne had married late in + life, and his marriage had brought him two daughters, Brita and Grimhild. + </p> + <p> + Hedin Ullern was looked upon as an upstart. He could only count three + generations back, and he hardly knew himself how his grandfather had + earned the money that had enabled him to buy a farm and settle down in the + valley. He had read a great deal, and was well informed on the politics of + the day; his name had even been mentioned for storthingsmand, or member of + parliament from the district, and it was the common opinion, that if + Bjarne Blakstad had not so vigorously opposed him, he would have been + elected, being the only “cultivated” peasant in the valley. Hedin was no + unwelcome guest in the houses of gentlefolks, and he was often seen at the + judge’s and the pastor’s omber parties. And for all this Bjarne Blakstad + only hated him the more. Hedin’s wife, Thorgerda, was fair-haired, tall + and stout, and it was she who managed the farm, while her husband read his + books, and studied politics in the newspapers; but she had a sharp tongue + and her neighbors were afraid of her. They had one son, whose name was + Halvard. + </p> + <p> + Brita Blakstad, Bjarne’s eldest daughter, was a maid whom it was a joy to + look upon. They called her “Glitter-Brita,” because she was fond of rings + and brooches, and everything that was bright; while she was still a child, + she once took the old family bridal-crown out from the storehouse and + carried it about on her head. “Beware of that crown, child,” her father + had said to her, “and wear it not before the time. There is not always + blessing in the bridal silver.” And she looked wonderingly up into his + eyes and answered: “But it glitters, father;” and from that time forth + they had named her Glitter-Brita. + </p> + <p> + And Glitter-Brita grew up to be a fair and winsome maiden, and wherever + she went the wooers flocked on her path. Bjarne shook his head at her, and + often had harsh words upon his lips, when he saw her braiding + field-flowers into her yellow tresses or clasping the shining brooches to + her bodice; but a look of hers or a smile would completely disarm him. She + had a merry way of doing things which made it all seem like play; but work + went rapidly from her hands, while her ringing laughter echoed through the + house, and her sunny presence made it bright in the dusky ancestral halls. + In her kitchen the long rows of copper pots and polished kettles shone + upon the walls, and the neatly scoured milk-pails stood like soldiers on + parade about the shelves under the ceiling. Bjarne would often sit for + hours watching her, and a strange spring-feeling would steal into his + heart. He felt a father’s pride in her stately growth and her rich womanly + beauty. “Ah!” he would say to himself, “she has the pure blood in her + veins and, as true as I live, the farm shall be hers.” And then, quite + contrary to his habits, he would indulge in a little reverie, imagining + the time when he, as an aged man, should have given the estate over into + her hands, and seeing her as a worthy matron preside at the table, and + himself rocking his grandchildren on his knee. No wonder, then, that he + eyed closely the young lads who were beginning to hover about the house, + and that he looked with suspicion upon those who selected Saturday nights + for their visits. <a href="#linknote-5" name="linknoteref-5" + id="linknoteref-5"><small>5</small></a> When Brita was twenty years old, + however, her father thought that it was time for her to make her choice. + There were many fine, brave lads in the valley, and, as Bjarne thought, + Brita would have the good sense to choose the finest and the bravest. So, + when the winter came, he suddenly flung his doors open to the youth of the + parish, and began to give parties with ale and mead in the grand old + style. He even talked with the young men, at times, encouraged them to + manly sports, and urged them to taste of his home-brewed drinks and to + tread the spring-dance briskly. And Brita danced and laughed so that her + hair flew around her and the silver brooches tinkled and rang on her + bosom. But when the merriment was at an end, and any one of the lads + remained behind to offer her his hand, she suddenly grew grave, told him + she was too young, that she did not know herself, and that she had had no + time as yet to decide so serious a question. Thus the winter passed and + the summer drew near. + </p> + <p> + In the middle of June, Brita went to the saeter <a href="#linknote-6" + name="linknoteref-6" id="linknoteref-6"><small>6</small></a> with the + cattle; and her sister, Grimhild, remained at home to keep house on the + farm. She loved the life in the mountains; the great solitude sometimes + made her feel sad, but it was not an unpleasant sadness, it was rather a + gentle toning down of all the shrill and noisy feelings of the soul. Up + there, in the heart of the primeval forest, her whole being seemed to + herself a symphony of melodious whispers with a vague delicious sense of + remoteness and mystery in them, which she only felt and did not attempt to + explain. There, those weird legends which, in former days, still held + their sway in the fancy of every Norsewoman, breathed their secrets into + her ear, and she felt her nearness and kinship to nature, as at no other + time. + </p> + <p> + One night, as the sun was low, and a purple bluish smoke hung like a thin + veil over the tops of the forest, Brita had taken out her knitting and + seated herself on a large moss-grown stone, on the croft. Her eyes + wandered over the broad valley which was stretched out below, and she + could see the red roofs of the Blakstad mansion peeping forth between the + fir-trees. And she wondered what they were doing down there, whether + Grimhild had done milking, and whether her father had returned from the + ford, where it was his habit at this hour to ride with the footmen to + water the horses. As she sat thus wondering, she was startled by a + creaking in the dry branches hard by, and lifting her eye, she saw a tall, + rather clumsily built, young man emerging from the thicket. He had a broad + but low forehead, flaxen hair which hung down over a pair of dull ox-like + eyes; his mouth was rather large and, as it was half open, displayed two + massive rows of shining white teeth. His red peaked cap hung on the back + of his head and, although it was summer, his thick wadmal vest was + buttoned close up to his throat; over his right arm he had flung his + jacket, and in his hand he held a bridle. + </p> + <p> + “Good evening,” said Brita, “and thanks for last meeting;” although she + was not sure that she had ever seen him before. + </p> + <p> + “It was that bay mare, you know,” stammered the man in a half apologetic + tone, and shook the bridle, as if in further explanation. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you have lost your mare,” said the girl, and she could not help + smiling at his helplessness and his awkward manner. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it was the bay mare,” answered he, in the same diffident tone; then, + encouraged by her smile, he straightened himself a little and continued + rather more fluently: “She never was quite right since the time the wolves + were after her. And then since they took the colt away from her the milk + has been troubling her, and she hasn’t been quite like herself.” + </p> + <p> + “I haven’t seen her anywhere hereabouts,” said Brita; “you may have to + wander far, before you get on the track of her.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is very likely. And I am tired already.” + </p> + <p> + “Won’t you sit down and rest yourself?” + </p> + <p> + He deliberately seated himself in the grass, and gradually gained courage + to look her straight in the face; and his dull eye remained steadfastly + fixed on her in a way which bespoke unfeigned surprise and admiration. + Slowly his mouth broadened into a smile; but his smile had more of sadness + than of joy in it. She had, from the moment she saw him, been possessed of + a strangely patronizing feeling toward him. She could not but treat him as + if he had been a girl or some person inferior to her in station. In spite + of his large body, the impression he made upon her was that of weakness; + but she liked the sincerity and kindness which expressed themselves in his + sad smile and large, honest blue eyes. His gaze reminded her of that of an + ox, but it had not only the ox’s dullness, but also its simplicity and + good-nature. + </p> + <p> + They sat talking on for a while about the weather, the cattle, and the + prospects of the crops. + </p> + <p> + “What is your name?” she asked, at last. + </p> + <p> + “Halvard Hedinson Ullern.” + </p> + <p> + A sudden shock ran through her at the sound of that name; in the next + moment a deep blush stole over her countenance. + </p> + <p> + “And my name,” she said, slowly, “is Brita Bjarne’s daughter Blakstad.” + </p> + <p> + She fixed her eyes upon him, as if to see what effect her words produced. + But his features wore the same sad and placid expression; and no line in + his face seemed to betray either surprise or ill-will. Then her sense of + patronage grew into one of sympathy and pity. “He must either be + weak-minded or very unhappy,” thought she, “and what right have I then to + treat him harshly.” And she continued her simple, straightforward talk + with the young man, until he, too, grew almost talkative, and the sadness + of his smile began to give way to something which almost resembled + happiness. She noticed the change and rejoiced. At last, when the sun had + sunk behind the western mountain tops, she rose and bade him good-night; + in another moment the door of the saeter-cottage closed behind her, and he + heard her bolting it on the inside. But for a long time he remained + sitting on the grass, and strange thoughts passed through his head. He had + quite forgotten his bay mare. + </p> + <p> + The next evening when the milking was done, and the cattle were gathered + within the saeter enclosure, Brita was again sitting on the large stone, + looking out over the valley. She felt a kind of companionship with the + people when she saw the smoke whirling up from their chimneys, and she + could guess what they were going to have for supper. As she sat there, she + again heard a creaking in the branches, and Halvard Ullern stood again + before her, with his jacket on his arm, and the same bridle in his hand. + </p> + <p> + “You have not found your bay mare yet?” she exclaimed, laughingly. “And + you think she is likely to be in this neighborhood?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know,” he answered; “and I don’t care if she isn’t.” + </p> + <p> + He spread his jacket on the grass, and sat down on the spot where he had + sat the night before. Brita looked at him in surprise and remained silent; + she didn’t know how to interpret this second visit. + </p> + <p> + “You are very handsome,” he said, suddenly, with a gravity which left no + doubt as to his sincerity. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think so?” she answered, with a merry laugh. He appeared to her + almost a child, and it never entered her mind to feel offended. On the + contrary, she was not sure but that she felt pleased. + </p> + <p> + “I have thought of you ever since yesterday,” he continued, with the same + imperturbable manner. “And if you were not angry with me, I thought I + would like to look at you once more. You are so different from other + folks.” + </p> + <p> + “God bless your foolish talk,” cried Brita, with a fresh burst of + merriment. “No, indeed I am not angry with you; I should just as soon + think of being angry with—with that calf,” she added for want of + another comparison. + </p> + <p> + “You think I don’t know much,” he stammered. “And I don’t.” The sad smile + again settled on his countenance. + </p> + <p> + A feeling of guilt sent the blood throbbing through her veins. She saw + that she had done him injustice. He evidently possessed more sense, or at + least a finer instinct, than she had given him credit for. + </p> + <p> + “Halvard,” she faltered, “if I have offended you, I assure you I didn’t + mean to do it; and a thousand times I beg your pardon.” + </p> + <p> + “You haven’t offended me, Brita,” answered he, blushing like a girl. “You + are the first one who doesn’t make me feel that I am not so wise as other + folks.” + </p> + <p> + She felt it her duty to be open and confiding with him in return; and in + order not to seem ungenerous, or rather to put them on an equal footing by + giving him also a peep into her heart, she told him about her daily work, + about the merry parties at her father’s house, and about the lusty lads + who gathered in their halls to dance the Halling and the spring-dance. He + listened attentively while she spoke, gazing earnestly into her face, but + never interrupting her. In his turn he described to her in his slow + deliberate way, how his father constantly scolded him because he was not + bright, and did not care for politics and newspapers, and how his mother + wounded him with her sharp tongue by making merry with him, even in the + presence of the servants and strangers. He did not seem to imagine that + there was anything wrong in what he said, or that he placed himself in a + ludicrous light; nor did he seem to speak from any unmanly craving for + sympathy. His manner was so simple and straightforward that what Brita + probably would have found strange in another, she found perfectly natural + in him. + </p> + <p> + It was nearly midnight when they parted{.} She hardly slept at all that + night, and she was half vexed with herself for the interest she took in + this simple youth. The next morning her father came up to pay her a visit + and to see how the flocks were thriving. She understood that it would be + dangerous to say anything to him about Halvard, for she knew his temper + and feared the result, if he should ever discover her secret. Therefore, + she shunned an opportunity to talk with him, and only busied herself the + more with the cattle and the cooking. Bjarne soon noticed her distraction, + but, of course, never suspected the cause. Before he left her, he asked + her if she did not find it too lonely on the saeter, and if it would not + be well if he sent her one of the maids for a companion. She hastened to + assure him that that was quite unnecessary; the cattle-boy who was there + to help her was all the company she wanted. Toward evening, Bjarne + Blakstad loaded his horses with buckets, filled with cheese and butter, + and started for the valley. Brita stood long looking after him as he + descended the rocky slope, and she could hardly conceal from herself that + she felt relieved, when, at last, the forest hid him from her sight. All + day she had been walking about with a heavy heart; there seemed to be + something weighing on her breast, and she could not throw it off. Who was + this who had come between her and her father? Had she ever been afraid of + him before, had she been glad to have him leave her? A sudden bitterness + took possession of her, for in her distress, she gave Halvard the blame + for all that had happened. She threw herself down on the grass and burst + into a passionate fit of weeping; she was guilty, wretchedly miserable, + and all for the sake of one whom she had hardly known for two days. If he + should come in this moment, she would tell him what he had done toward + her; and her wish must have been heard, for as she raised her eyes, he + stood there at her side, the sad feature about his mouth and his great + honest eyes gazing wonderingly at her. She felt her purpose melt within + her; he looked so good and so unhappy. Then again came the thought of her + father and of her own wrong, and the bitterness again revived. + </p> + <p> + “Go away,” cried she, in a voice half reluctantly tender and half defiant. + “Go away, I say; I don’t want to see you any more.” + </p> + <p> + “I will go to the end of the world if you wish it,” he answered, with a + strange firmness. + </p> + <p> + He picked up his jacket which he had dropped on the ground, then turned + slowly, gave her mother long look, an infinitely sad and hopeless one, and + went. Her bosom heaved violently—remorse, affection and filial duty + wrestled desperately in her heart. + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” she cried, “why do you go? I did not mean it so. I only wanted—” + </p> + <p> + He paused and returned as deliberately as he had gone. + </p> + <p> + Why should I dwell upon the days that followed—how her heart grew + ever more restless, how she would suddenly wake up at nights and see those + large blue eyes sadly gazing at her, how by turns she would condemn + herself and him, and how she felt with bitter pain that she was growing + away from those who had hitherto been nearest and dearest to her. And + strange to say, this very isolation from her father made her cling only + the more desperately to him. It seemed to her as if Bjarne had + deliberately thrown her off; that she herself had been the one who took + the first step had hardly occurred to her. Alas, her grief was as + irrational as her love. By what strange devious process of reasoning these + convictions became settled in her mind, it is difficult to tell. It is + sufficient to know that she was a woman and that she loved. She even knew + herself that she was irrational, and this very sense drew her more + hopelessly into the maze of the labyrinth from which she saw no escape. + </p> + <p> + His visits were as regular as those of the sun. She knew that there was + only a word of hers needed to banish him from her presence forever. And + how many times did she not resolve to speak that word? But the word was + never spoken. At times a company of the lads from the valley would come to + spend a merry evening at the saeter; but she heeded them not, and they + soon disappeared. Thus the summer went amid passing moods of joy and + sorrow. She had long known that he loved her, and when at last his slow + confession came, it added nothing to her happiness; it only increased her + fears for the future. They laid many plans together in those days; but + winter came as a surprise to both, the cattle were removed from the + mountains, and they were again separated. + </p> + <p> + Bjarne Blakstad looked long and wistfully at his daughter that morning, + when he came to bring her home. She wore no more rings and brooches, and + it was this which excited Bjarne’s suspicion that everything was not right + with her. Formerly he was displeased because she wore too many; now he + grumbled because she wore none. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. + </h2> + <p> + The winter was half gone; and in all this time Brita had hardly once seen + Halvard. Yes, once,—it was Christmas-day,—she had ventured to + peep over to his pew in the church, and had seen him, sitting at his + father’s side, and gazing vacantly out into the empty space; but as he had + caught her glance, he had blushed, and began eagerly to turn the leaves of + his hymn-book. It troubled her that he made no effort to see her; many an + evening she had walked alone down at the river-side, hoping that he might + come; but it was all in vain. She could not but believe that his father + must have made some discovery, and that he was watched. In the mean time + the black cloud thickened over her head; for a secret gnawed at the very + roots of her heart. It was a time of terrible suspense and suffering—such + as a man never knows, such as only a woman can endure. It was almost a + relief when the cloud burst, and the storm broke loose, as presently it + did. + </p> + <p> + One Sunday, early in April, Bjarne did not return at the usual hour from + church. His daughters waited in vain for him with the dinner, and at last + began to grow uneasy. It was not his habit to keep irregular hours. There + was a great excitement in the valley just then; the America-fever had + broken out. A large vessel was lying out in the fjord, ready to take the + emigrants away; and there was hardly a family that did not mourn the loss + of some brave-hearted son, or of some fair and cherished daughter. The old + folks, of course, had to remain behind; and when the children were gone, + what was there left for them but to lie down and die? America was to them + as distant as if it were on another planet. The family feeling, too, has + ever been strong in the Norseman’s breast; he lives for his children, and + seems to live his life over again in them. It is his greatest pride to be + able to trace his blood back into the days of Sverre and St. Olaf, and + with the same confidence he expects to see his race spread into the future + in the same soil where once it has struck root. Then comes the storm from + the Western seas, wrestles with the sturdy trunk, and breaks it; and the + shattered branches fly to all the four corners of the heavens. No wonder, + then, like a tree that has lost its crown, his strength is broken and he + expects but to smoulder into the earth and die. + </p> + <p> + Bjarne Blakstad, like the sturdy old patriot that he was, had always + fiercely denounced the America rage; and it was now the hope of his + daughters that, perhaps, he had stayed behind to remind the restless ones + among the youth of their duty toward their land, or to frighten some bold + emigration agent who might have been too loud in his declamations. But it + was already eight o’clock and Bjarne was not yet to be seen. The night was + dark and stormy; a cold sleet fiercely lashed the window-panes, and the + wind roared in the chimney. Grimhild, the younger sister, ran restlessly + out and in and slammed the doors after her. Brita sat tightly pressed up + against the wall in the darkest corner of the room. Every time the wind + shook the house she started up; then again seated herself and shuddered. + Dark forebodings filled her soul. + </p> + <p> + At last,—the clock had just struck ten,—there was a noise + heard in the outer hall. Grimhild sprang to the door and tore it open. A + tall, stooping figure entered, and by the dress she at once recognized her + father. + </p> + <p> + “Good God,” cried she, and ran up to him. + </p> + <p> + “Go away, child,” muttered he, in a voice that sounded strangely + unfamiliar, and he pushed her roughly away. For a moment he stood still, + then stalked up to the table, and, with a heavy thump, dropped down into a + chair. There he remained with his elbows resting on his knees, and + absently staring on the floor. His long hair hung in wet tangles down over + his face, and the wrinkles about his mouth seemed deeper and fiercer than + usual. Now and then he sighed, or gave vent to a deep groan. In a while + his eyes began to wander uneasily about the room; and as they reached the + corner where Brita was sitting, he suddenly darted up, as if stung by + something poisonous, seized a brand from the hearth, and rushed toward + her. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me I did not see it,” he broke forth, in a hoarse whisper, seizing + her by the arm and thrusting the burning brand close up to her face. “Tell + me it is a lie—a black, poisonous lie.” + </p> + <p> + She raised her eyes slowly to his and gazed steadfastly into his face. + “Ah,” he continued in the same terrible voice, “it was what I told them + down there at the church—a lie—an infernal lie. And I drew + blood—blood, I say—I did—from the slanderer. Ha, ha, ha! + What a lusty sprawl that was!” + </p> + <p> + The color came and departed from Brita’s cheeks. And still she was + strangely self possessed. She even wondered at her own calmness. Alas, she + did not know that it was a calmness that is more terrible than pain, the + corpse of a forlorn and hopeless heart. + </p> + <p> + “Child,” continued Bjarne, and his voice assumed a more natural tone, “why + dost thou not speak? They have lied about thee, child, because thou art + fair, they have envied thee.” Then, almost imploringly, “Open thy mouth, + Brita, and tell thy father that thou art pure—pure as the snow, + child—my own—my beautiful child.” + </p> + <p> + There was a long and painful pause, in which the crackling of the brand, + and the heavy breathing of the old man were the only sounds to break the + silence. Pale like a marble image stood she before him; no word of excuse, + no prayer for forgiveness escaped her; only a convulsive quivering of the + lips betrayed the life that struggled within her. With every moment the + hope died in Bjarne’s bosom. His visage was fearful to behold. Terror and + fierce indomitable hatred had grimly distorted his features, and his eyes + burned like fire-coals beneath his bushy brows. + </p> + <p> + “Harlot,” he shrieked, “harlot!” + </p> + <p> + A cold gust of wind swept through the room. The windows shook, the doors + flew open, as if touched by a strong invisible hand—and the old man + stood alone, holding the flickering brand above his head. + </p> + <p> + It was after midnight, the wind had abated, but the snow still fell, thick + and silent, burying paths and fences under its cold white mantle. Onward + she fled—onward and ever onward. And whither, she knew not. A cold + numbness had chilled her senses, but still her feet drove her irresistibly + onward. A dark current seemed to have seized her, she only felt that she + was adrift, and she cared not whither it bore her. In spite of the + stifling dullness which oppressed her, her body seemed as light as air. At + last,—she knew not where,—she heard the roar of the sea + resounding in her ears, a genial warmth thawed the numbness of her senses, + and she floated joyfully among the clouds—among golden, sun-bathed + clouds. When she opened her eyes, she found herself lying in a comfortable + bed, and a young woman with a kind motherly face was sitting at her side. + It was all like a dream, and she made no effort to account for what + appeared so strange and unaccountable. + </p> + <p> + What she afterward heard was that a fisherman had found her in a + snow-drift on the strand, and that he had carried her home to his cottage + and had given her over to the charge of his wife. This was the second day + since her arrival. They knew who she was, but had kept the doors locked + and had told no one that she was there. She heard the story of the good + woman without emotion; it seemed an intolerable effort to think. But on + the third day, when her child was born, her mind was suddenly aroused from + its lethargy, and she calmly matured her plans; and for the child’s sake + she resolved to live and to act. That same evening there came a little boy + with a bundle for her. She opened it and found therein the clothes she had + left behind, and—her brooches. She knew that it was her sister who + had sent them; then there was one who still thought of her with affection. + And yet her first impulse was to send it all back, or to throw it into the + ocean; but she looked at her child and forbore. + </p> + <p> + A week passed, and Brita recovered. Of Halvard she had heard nothing. One + night, as she lay in a half doze, she thought she had Seen a pale, + frightened face pressed up against the window-pane, and staring fixedly at + her and her child; but, after all, it might have been merely a dream. For + her fevered fancy had in these last days frequently beguiled her into + similar visions. She often thought of him, but, strangely enough, no more + with bitterness, but with pity. Had he been strong enough to be wicked, + she could have hated him, but he was weak, and she pitied him. Then it was + that; one evening, as she heard that the American vessel was to sail at + daybreak, she took her little boy and wrapped him carefully in her own + clothes, bade farewell to the good fisherman and his wife, and walked + alone down to the strand. Huge clouds of fantastic shapes chased each + other desperately along the horizon, and now and then the slender new moon + glanced forth from the deep blue gulfs between. She chose a boat at random + and was about to unmoor it, when she saw the figure of a man tread + carefully over the stones and hesitatingly approach her. + </p> + <p> + “Brita,” came in a whisper from the strand. + </p> + <p> + “Who’s there?” + </p> + <p> + “It is I. Father knows it all, and he has nearly killed me; and mother, + too.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that what you have come to tell me?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I would like to help you some. I have been trying to see you these + many days.” And he stepped close up to the boat. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you; I need no help.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Brita,” implored he, “I have sold my gun and my dog, and everything + I had, and this is what I have got for it.” He stretched out his hand and + reached her a red handkerchief with something heavy bound up in a corner. + She took it mechanically, held it in her hand for a moment, then flung it + far out into the water. A smile of profound contempt and pity passed over + her countenance. + </p> + <p> + “Farewell, Halvard,” said she, calmly, and pushed the boat into the water. + </p> + <p> + “But, Brita,” cried he, in despair, “what would you have me do?” + </p> + <p> + She lifted the child in her arms, then pointed to the vacant seat at her + side. He understood what she meant, and stood for a moment wavering. + Suddenly, he covered his face with his hands and burst into tears. Within + half an hour, Brita boarded the vessel, and as the first red stripe of the + dawn illumined the horizon, the wind filled the sails, and the ship glided + westward toward that land where there is a home for them whom love and + misfortune have exiled. + </p> + <p> + It was a long and wearisome voyage. There was an old English clergyman on + board, who collected curiosities; to him she sold her rings and brooches, + and thereby obtained more than sufficient money to pay her passage. She + hardly spoke to any one except her child. Those of her fellow-parishioners + who knew her, and perhaps guessed her history, kept aloof from her, and + she was grateful to them that they did. From morning till night, she sat + in a corner between a pile of deck freight and the kitchen skylight, and + gazed at her little boy who was lying in her lap. All her hopes, her + future, and her life were in him. For herself, she had ceased to hope. + </p> + <p> + “I can give thee no fatherland, my child,” she said to him. “Thou shalt + never know the name of him who gave thee life. Thou and I, we shall + struggle together, and, as true as there is a God above, who sees us, He + will not leave either of us to perish. But let us ask no questions, child, + about that which is past. Thou shalt grow and be strong, and thy mother + must grow with thee.” + </p> + <p> + During the third week of the voyage, the English clergyman baptized the + boy, and she called him Thomas, after the day in the almanac on which he + was born. He should never know that Norway had been his mother’s home; + therefore she would give him no name which might betray his race. One + morning, early in the month of June, they hailed land, and the great New + World lay before them. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. + </h2> + <p> + Why should I speak of the ceaseless care, the suffering, and the hard + toil, which made the first few months of Brita’s life on this continent a + mere continued struggle for existence? They are familiar to every emigrant + who has come here with a brave heart and an empty purse. Suffice it to say + that at the end of the second month, she succeeded in obtaining service as + milkmaid with a family in the neighborhood of New York. With the + linguistic talent peculiar to her people, she soon learned the English + language and even spoke it well. From her countrymen, she kept as far away + as possible, not for her own sake, but for that of her boy; for he was to + grow great and strong, and the knowledge of his birth might shatter his + strength and break his courage. For the same reason she also exchanged her + picturesque Norse costume for that of the people among whom she was + living. She went commonly by the name of Mrs. Brita, which pronounced in + the English way, sounded very much like Mrs. Bright, and this at last + became the name by which she was known in the neighborhood. + </p> + <p> + Thus five years passed; then there was a great rage for emigrating to the + far West, and Brita, with many others, started for Chicago. There she + arrived in the year 1852, and took up her lodgings with an Irish widow, + who was living in a little cottage in what was then termed the outskirts + of the city. Those who saw her in those days, going about the lumber-yards + and doing a man’s work, would hardly have recognized in her the merry + Glitter-Brita, who in times of old trod the spring-dance so gayly in the + well-lighted halls of the Blakstad mansion. And, indeed, she was sadly + changed! Her features had become sharper, and the firm lines about her + mouth expressed severity, almost sternness. Her clear blue eyes seemed to + have grown larger, and their glance betrayed secret, ever-watchful care. + Only her yellow hair had resisted the force of time and sorrow; for it + still fell in rich and wavy folds over a smooth white forehead. She was, + indeed, half ashamed of it, and often took pains to force it into a sober, + matronly hood. Only at nights, when she sat alone talking with her boy, + she would allow it to escape from its prison; and he would laugh and play + with it, and in his child’s way even wonder at the contrast between her + stern face and her youthful maidenly tresses. + </p> + <p> + This Thomas, her son, was a strange child. He had a Norseman’s taste for + the fabulous and fantastic, and although he never heard a tale of Necken + or the Hulder, he would often startle his mother by the most fanciful + combinations of imagined events, and by bolder personifications than ever + sprung from the legendary soil of the Norseland. She always took care to + check him whenever he indulged in these imaginary flights, and he at last + came to look upon them as something wrong and sinful. The boy, as he grew + up, often strikingly reminded her of her father, as, indeed, he seemed to + have inherited more from her own than from Halvard’s race. Only the bright + flaxen hair and his square, somewhat clumsy stature might have told him to + be the latter’s child. He had a hot temper, and often distressed his + mother by his stubbornness; and then there would come a great burst of + repentance afterwards, which distressed her still more. For she was afraid + it might be a sign of weakness. “And strong he must be,” said she to + herself, “strong enough to overcome all resistance, and to conquer a great + name for himself, strong enough to bless a mother who brought him into the + world nameless.” + </p> + <p> + Strange to say, much as she loved this child, she seldom caressed him. It + was a penance she had imposed upon herself to atone for her guilt. Only at + times, when she had been sitting up late, and her eyes would fall, as it + were, by accident upon the little face on the pillow, with the sweet + unconsciousness of sleep resting upon it like a soft, invisible veil, + would she suddenly throw herself down over him, kiss him, and whisper + tender names in his ear, while her tears fell hot and fast on his yellow + hair and his rosy countenance. Then the child would dream that he was + sailing aloft over shining forests, and that his mother, beaming with all + the beauty of her lost youth, flew before him, showering golden flowers on + his path. These were the happiest moments of Brita’s joyless life, and + even these were not unmixed with bitterness; for into the midst of her joy + would steal a shy anxious thought which was the more terrible because it + came so stealthily, so soft-footed and unbidden. Had not this child been + given her as a punishment for her guilt? Had she then a right to turn + God’s scourge into a blessing? Did she give to God “that which belongeth + unto God,” as long as all her hopes, her thoughts, and her whole being + revolved about this one earthly thing, her son, the child of her sorrow? + She was not a nature to shrink from grave questions; no, she met them + boldly, when once they were there, wrestled fiercely with them, was + defeated, and again with a martyr’s zeal rose to renew the combat. God had + Himself sent her this perplexing doubt and it was her duty to bear His + burden. Thus ran Brita’s reasoning. In the mean while the years slipped + by, and great changes were wrought in the world about her. + </p> + <p> + The few hundred dollars which Brita had been able to save, during the + first three years of her stay in Chicago, she had invested in a piece of + land. In the mean while the city had grown, and in the year 1859 she was + offered five thousand dollars for her lot; this offer she accepted and + again bought a small piece of property at a short distance from the city. + The boy had since his eighth year attended the public school, and had made + astonishing progress. Every day when school was out, she would meet him at + the gate, take him by the hand and lead him home. If any of the other boys + dared to make sport of her, or to tease him for his dependence upon her, + it was sure to cost that boy a black eye{.} He soon succeeded in + establishing himself in the respect of his school-mates, for he was the + strongest boy of his own age, and ever ready to protect and defend the + weak and defenseless. When Thomas Bright (for that was the name by which + he was known) was fifteen years old he was offered a position as clerk in + the office of a lumber-merchant, and with his mother’s consent he accepted + it. He was a fine young lad now, large and well-knit, and with a clear + earnest countenance. In the evening he would bring home books to read, and + as it had always been Brita’s habit to interest herself in whatever + interested him, she soon found herself studying and discussing with him + things which had in former years been far beyond the horizon of her mind. + She had at his request reluctantly given up her work in the lumber-yards, + and now spent her days at home, busying herself with sewing and reading + and such other things as women find to fill up a vacant hour. + </p> + <p> + One evening, when Thomas was in his nineteenth year, he returned from his + office with a graver face than usual. His mother’s quick eye immediately + saw that something had agitated him, but she forbore to ask. + </p> + <p> + “Mother,” said he at last, “who is my father? Is he dead or alive?” + </p> + <p> + “God is your father, my son,” answered she, tremblingly. “If you love me, + ask me no more.” + </p> + <p> + “I do love you, mother,” he said, and gave her a grave look, in which she + thought she detected a mingling of tenderness and reproach. “And it shall + be as you have said.” + </p> + <p> + It was the first time she had had reason to blush before him, and her + emotion came near overwhelming her; but with a violent effort she stifled + it, and remained outwardly calm. He began pacing up and down the floor + with his head bent and his hands on his back. It suddenly occurred to her + that he was a grown man, and that she could no longer hold the same + relation to him as his supporter and protector. “Alas,” thought she, “if + God will but let me remain his mother, I shall bless and thank Him.” + </p> + <p> + It was the first time this subject had been broached, and it gave rise to + many a doubt and many a question in the anxious mother’s mind. Had she + been right in concealing from him that which he might justly claim to + know? What had been her motive in keeping him ignorant of his origin and + of the land of his birth? She had wished him to grow to the strength of + manhood, unconscious of guilt, so that he might bear his head upright, and + look the world fearlessly in the face. And still, had there not in all + this been a lurking thought of herself, a fear of losing his love, a + desire to stand pure and perfect in his eye? She hardly dared to answer + these questions, for, alas, she knew not that even our purest motives are + but poorly able to bear a searching scrutiny. She began to suspect that + her whole course with her son had been wrong from the very beginning. Why + had she not told him the stern truth, even if he should despise her for + it, even if she should have to stand a blushing culprit in his presence? + Often, when she heard his footsteps in the hall, as he returned from the + work of the day, she would man herself up and the words hovered upon her + lips: “Son, thou art a bastard born, a child of guilt, and thy mother is + an outcast upon the earth.” But when she met those calm blue eyes of his, + saw the unsuspecting frankness of his manner and the hopefulness with + which he looked to the future, her womanly heart shrank from its duty, and + she hastened out of the room, threw herself on her bed, and wept. Fiercely + she wrestled with God in prayer, until she thought that even God had + deserted her. Thus months passed and years, and the constant care and + anxiety began to affect her health. She grew pale and nervous, and the + slightest noise would annoy her. In the mean while, her manner toward the + young man had become strangely altered, and he soon noticed it, although + he forbore to speak. She was scrupulously mindful of his comfort, + anxiously anticipated his wants, and observed toward him an ever vigilant + consideration, as if he had been her master instead of her son. + </p> + <p> + When Thomas was twenty-two years of age, he was offered a partnership in + his employer’s business, and with every year his prospects brightened. The + sale of his mother’s property brought him a very handsome little fortune, + which enabled him to build a fine and comfortable house in one of the best + portions of the city. Thus their outward circumstances were greatly + improved, and of comfort and luxury Brita had all and more than she had + ever desired; but her health was broken down, and the physicians declared + that a year of foreign travel and a continued residence in Italy might + possibly restore her. At last, Thomas, too, began to urge her, until she + finally yielded. It was on a bright morning in May that they both started + for New York, and three days later they took the boat for Europe. What + countries they were to visit they had hardly decided, but after a brief + stay in England we find them again on a steamer bound for Norway. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV. + </h2> + <p> + Warm and gentle as it is, June often comes to the fjord-valleys of Norway + with the voice and the strength of a giant. The glaciers totter and groan, + as if in anger at their own weakness, and send huge avalanches of stones + and ice down into the valleys. The rivers swell and rush with vociferous + brawl out over the mountainsides, and a thousand tiny brooks join in the + general clamor, and dance with noisy chatter over the moss-grown + birch-roots. But later, when the struggle is at an end, and June has + victoriously seated herself upon her throne, her voice becomes more richly + subdued and brings rest and comfort to the ear and to the troubled heart. + It was while the month was in this latter mood that Brita and her son + entered once more the valley whence, twenty-five years ago, they had fled. + Many strange, turbulent emotions stirred the mother’s bosom, as she saw + again the great snow-capped mountains, and the calm, green valley, her + childhood’s home, lying so snugly sheltered in their mighty embrace. Even + Thomas’s breast was moved with vaguely sympathetic throbs, as this + wondrous scene spread itself before him. They soon succeeded in hiring a + farm-house, about half an hour’s walk from Blakstad, and, according to + Brita’s wish, established themselves there for the summer. She had known + the people well, when she was young, but they never thought of identifying + her with the merry maid, who had once startled the parish by her sudden + flight; and she, although she longed to open her heart to them, let no + word fall to betray her real character. Her conscience accused her of + playing a false part, but for her son’s sake she kept silent. + </p> + <p> + Then, one day,—it was the second Sunday after their arrival,—she + rose early in the morning, and asked Thomas to accompany her on a walk up + through the valley. There was Sabbath in the air; the soft breath of + summer, laden with the perfume of fresh leaves and field-flowers, gently + wafted into their faces. The sun glittered in the dewy grass, the crickets + sung with a remote voice of wonder, and the air seemed to be half visible, + and moved in trembling wavelets on the path before them. Resting on her + son’s arm, Brita walked slowly up through the flowering meadows; she + hardly knew whither her feet bore her, but her heart beat violently, and + she often was obliged to pause and press her hands against her bosom, as + if to stay the turbulent emotions. + </p> + <p> + “You are not well, mother,” said the son. “It was imprudent in me to allow + you to exert yourself in this way.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us sit down on this stone,” answered she. “I shall soon be better. Do + not look so anxiously at me. Indeed, I am not sick.” + </p> + <p> + He spread his light summer coat on the stone and carefully seated her. She + lifted her veil and raised her eyes to the large red-roofed mansion, whose + dark outlines drew themselves dimly on the dusky background of the pine + forest. Was he still alive, he whose life-hope she had wrecked, he who had + once driven her out into the night with all but a curse upon his lips? How + would he receive her, if she were to return? Ah, she knew him, and she + trembled at the very thought of meeting him. But was not the guilt hers? + Could she depart from this valley, could she die in peace, without having + thrown herself at his feet and implored his forgiveness? And there, on the + opposite side of the valley, lay the home of him who had been the cause of + all her misery. What had been his fate, and did he still remember those + long happy summer days, ah! so long, long ago? She had dared to ask no + questions of the people with whom she lived, but now a sudden weakness had + overtaken her, and she felt that to-day must decide her fate; she could no + longer bear this torture of uncertainty. Thomas remained standing at her + side and looked at her with anxiety and wonder. He knew that she had + concealed many things from him, but whatever her reasons might be, he was + confident that they were just and weighty. It was not for him to question + her about what he might have no right to know. He felt as if he had never + loved her as in this moment, when she seemed to be most in need of him, + and an overwhelming tenderness took possession of his heart. He suddenly + stooped down, took her pale, thin face between his hands and kissed her. + The long pent-up emotion burst forth in a flood of tears; she buried her + face in her lap and wept long and silently. Then the church-bells began to + peal down in the valley, and the slow mighty sound floated calmly and + solemnly up to them. How many long-forgotten memories of childhood and + youth did they not wake in her bosom—memories of the time when the + merry Glitter-Brita, decked with her shining brooches, wended her way to + the church among the gayly-dressed lads and maidens of the parish? + </p> + <p> + A cluster of white-stemmed birches threw its shadow over the stone where + the penitent mother was sitting, and the tall grass on both sides of the + path nearly hid her from sight. Presently the church-folk began to appear, + and Brita raised her head and drew her veil down over her face. No one + passed without greeting the strangers, and the women and maidens, + according to old fashion, stopped and courtesied. At last, there came an + old white-haired man, leaning on the arm of a middle-aged woman. His whole + figure was bent forward, and he often stopped and drew his breath heavily. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, yes,” he said, ill a hoarse, broken voice, as he passed before + them, “age is gaining on me fast. I can’t move about any more as of old. + But to church I must this day. God help me! I have done much wrong and + need to pray for forgiveness.” + </p> + <p> + “You had better sit down and rest, father,” said the woman. “Here is a + stone, and the fine lady, I am sure, will allow a weak old man to sit down + beside her.” + </p> + <p> + Thomas rose and made a sign to the old man to take his seat. + </p> + <p> + “O yes, yes,” he went on murmuring, as if talking to himself. “Much wrong—much + forgiveness. God help us all—miserable sinners. He who hateth not + father and mother—and daughter is not worthy of me. O, yes—yes—God + comfort us all. Help me up, Grimhild. I think I can move on again, now.” + </p> + <p> + Thomas, of course, did not understand a word of what he said, but seeing + that he wished to rise, he willingly offered his assistance, supported his + arm and raised him. + </p> + <p> + “Thanks to you, young man,” said the peasant. “And may God reward your + kindness.” + </p> + <p> + And the two, father and daughter, moved on, slowly and laboriously, as + they had come. Thomas stood following them with his eyes, until a low, + half-stifled moan suddenly called him to his mother’s side. Her frame + trembled violently. + </p> + <p> + “Mother, mother,” implored he, stooping over her, “what has happened? Why + are you no more yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, my son, I can bear it no longer,” sobbed she. “God forgive me—thou + must know it all.” + </p> + <p> + He sat down at her side and drew her closely up to him and she hid her + face on his bosom. There was a long silence, only broken by the loud + chirruping of the crickets. + </p> + <p> + “My son,” she began at last, still hiding her face, “thou art a child of + guilt.” + </p> + <p> + “That has been no secret to me, mother,” answered he, gravely and + tenderly, “since I was old enough to know what guilt was.” + </p> + <p> + She quickly raised her head, and a look of amazement, of joyous surprise, + shone through the tears that veiled her eyes. She could read nothing but + filial love and confidence in those grave, manly features, and she saw in + that moment that all her doubts had been groundless, that her long + prayerful struggle had been for naught. + </p> + <p> + “I brought thee into the world nameless,” she whispered, “and thou hast no + word of reproach for me?” + </p> + <p> + “With God’s help, I am strong enough to conquer a name for myself, + mother,” was his answer. + </p> + <p> + It was the very words of her own secret wish, and upon his lips they + sounded like a blessed assurance, like a miraculous fulfillment of her + motherly prayer. + </p> + <p> + “Still, another thing, my child,” she went on in a more confident voice. + “This is thy native land,—and the old man who was just sitting here + at my side was—my father.” + </p> + <p> + And there, in the shadow of the birch-trees, in the summer stillness of + that hour, she told him the story of her love, of her flight, and of the + misery of these long, toilsome five and twenty years. + </p> + <p> + Late in the afternoon, Brita and her son were seen returning to the + farm-house. A calm, subdued happiness beamed from the mother’s + countenance; she was again at peace with the world and herself, and her + heart was as light as in the days of her early youth. But her bodily + strength had given out, and her limbs almost refused to support her. The + strain upon her nerves and the constant effort had hitherto enabled her to + keep up, but now, when that strain was removed, exhausted nature claimed + its right. The next day—she could not leave her bed, and with every + hour her strength failed. A physician was sent for. He gave medicine, but + no hope. He shook his head gravely, as he went, and both mother and son + knew what that meant. + </p> + <p> + Toward evening, Bjarne Blakstad was summoned, and came at once. Thomas + left the room, as the old man entered, and what passed in that hour + between father and daughter, only God knows. When the door was again + opened, Brita’s eyes shone with a strange brilliancy, and Bjarne lay on + his knees before the bed, pressing her hand convulsively between both of + his. + </p> + <p> + “This is my son, father,” said she, in a language which her son did not + understand; and a faint smile of motherly pride and happiness flitted over + her pale features. “I would give him to thee in return for what thou hast + lost; but God has laid his future in another land.” + </p> + <p> + Bjarne rose, grasped his grandson’s hand, and pressed it; and two heavy + tears ran down his furrowed cheeks. “Alas,” murmured he, “my son, that we + should meet thus.” + </p> + <p> + There they stood, bound together by the bonds of blood, but, alas, there + lay a world between them. + </p> + <p> + All night they sat together at the dying woman’s bedside. Not a word was + spoken. Toward morning, as the sun stole into the darkened chamber, Brita + murmured their names, and they laid their hands in hers. + </p> + <p> + “God be praised,” whispered she, scarcely audibly, “I have found you both—my + father and my son.” A deep pallor spread over her countenance. She was + dead. + </p> + <p> + Two days later, when the body was laid out, Thomas stood alone in the + room. The windows were covered with white sheets, and a subdued light fell + upon the pale, lifeless countenance. Death had dealt gently with her, she + seemed younger than before, and her light wavy hair fell softly over the + white forehead. Then there came a middle-aged man, with a dull eye, and a + broad forehead, and timidly approached the lonely mourner. He walked on + tip-toe and his figure stooped heavily. For a long while he stood gazing + at the dead body, then he knelt down at the foot of the coffin, and began + to sob violently. At last he arose, took two steps toward the young man, + paused again, and departed silently as he had come. It was Halvard. + </p> + <p> + Close under the wall of the little red-painted church, they dug the grave; + and a week later her father was laid to rest at his daughter’s side. + </p> + <p> + But the fresh winds blew over the Atlantic and beckoned the son to new + fields of labor in the great land of the future. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A GOOD-FOR-NOTHING. + </h2> + <p> + RALPH GRIM was born a gentleman. He had the misfortune of coming into the + world some ten years later than might reasonably have been expected. + Colonel Grim and his lady had celebrated twelve anniversaries of their + wedding-day, and had given up all hopes of ever having a son and heir, + when this late-comer startled them by his unexpected appearance. The only + previous addition to the family had been a daughter, and she was then ten + summers old. + </p> + <p> + Ralph was a very feeble child, and could only with great difficulty be + persuaded to retain his hold of the slender thread which bound him to + existence. He was rubbed with whisky, and wrapped in cotton, and given + mare’s milk to drink, and God knows what not, and the Colonel swore a + round oath of paternal delight when at last the infant stopped gasping in + that distressing way and began to breathe like other human beings. The + mother, who, in spite of her anxiety for the child’s life, had found time + to plot for him a career of future magnificence, now suddenly set him + apart for literature, because that was the easiest road to fame, and + disposed of him in marriage to one of the most distinguished families of + the land. She cautiously suggested this to her husband when he came to + take his seat at her bedside; but to her utter astonishment she found that + he had been indulging a similar train of thought, and had already destined + the infant prodigy for the army. She, however, could not give up her + predilection for literature, and the Colonel, who could not bear to be + contradicted in his own house, as he used to say, was getting every minute + louder and more flushed, when, happily, the doctor’s arrival interrupted + the dispute. + </p> + <p> + As Ralph grew up from infancy to childhood, he began to give decided + promise of future distinction. He was fond of sitting down in a corner and + sucking his thumb, which his mother interpreted as the sign of that + brooding disposition peculiar to poets and men of lofty genius. At the age + of five, he had become sole master in the house. He slapped his sister + Hilda in the face, or pulled her hair, when she hesitated to obey him, + tyrannized over his nurse, and sternly refused to go to bed in spite of + his mother’s entreaties. On such occasions, the Colonel would hide his + face behind his newspaper, and chuckle with delight; it was evident that + nature had intended his son for a great military commander. As soon as + Ralph himself was old enough to have any thoughts about his future + destiny, he made up his mind that he would like to be a pirate. A few + months later, having contracted an immoderate taste for candy, he + contented himself with the comparatively humble position of a baker; but + when he had read “Robinson Crusoe,” he manifested a strong desire to go to + sea in the hope of being wrecked on some desolate island. The parents + spent long evenings gravely discussing these indications of uncommon + genius, and each interpreted them in his or her own way. + </p> + <p> + “He is not like any other child I ever knew,” said the mother. + </p> + <p> + “To be sure,” responded the father, earnestly. “He is a most extraordinary + child. I was a very remarkable child too, even if I do say it myself; but, + as far as I remember, I never aspired to being wrecked on an uninhabited + is land.” + </p> + <p> + The Colonel probably spoke the truth; but he forgot to take into account + that he had never read “Robinson Crusoe.” + </p> + <p> + Of Ralph’s school-days there is but little to report, for, to tell the + truth, he did not fancy going to school, as the discipline annoyed him. + The day after his having entered the gymnasium, which was to prepare him + for the Military Academy, the principal saw him waiting at the gate after + his class had been dismissed. He approached him, and asked why he did not + go home with the rest. + </p> + <p> + “I am waiting for the servant to carry my books,” was the boy’s answer. + </p> + <p> + “Give me your books,” said the teacher. + </p> + <p> + Ralph reluctantly obeyed. That day the Colonel was not a little surprised + to see his son marching up the street, and every now and then glancing + behind him with a look of discomfort at the principal, who was following + quietly in his train, carrying a parcel of school-books. Colonel Grim and + his wife, divining the teacher’s intention, agreed that it was a great + outrage, but they did not mention the matter to Ralph. Henceforth, + however, the boy refused to be accompanied by his servant. A week later he + was impudent to the teacher of gymnastics, who whipped him in return. The + Colonel’s rage knew no bounds; he rode in great haste to the gymnasium, + reviled the teacher for presuming to chastise HIS son, and committed the + boy to the care of a private tutor. + </p> + <p> + At the age of sixteen, Ralph went to the capital with the intention of + entering the Military Academy. He was a tall, handsome youth, slender of + stature, and carried himself as erect as a candle. He had a light, clear + complexion of almost feminine delicacy; blonde, curly hair, which he + always kept carefully brushed; a low forehead, and a straight, finely + modeled nose. There was an expression of extreme sensitiveness about the + nostrils, and a look of indolence in the dark-blue eyes. But the ensemble + of his features was pleasing, his dress irreproachable, and his manners + bore no trace of the awkward self-consciousness peculiar to his age. + Immediately on his arrival in the capital he hired a suite of rooms in the + aristocratic part of the city, and furnished them rather expensively, but + in excellent taste. From a bosom friend, whom he met by accident in the + restaurant’s pavilion in the park, he learned that a pair of antlers, a + stuffed eagle, or falcon, and a couple of swords, were indispensable to a + well-appointed apartment. He accordingly bought these articles at a + curiosity-shop. During the first weeks of his residence in the city he + made some feeble efforts to perfect himself in mathematics, in which he + suspected he was somewhat deficient. But when the same officious friend + laughed at him, and called him “green,” he determined to trust to fortune, + and henceforth devoted himself the more assiduously to the French ballet, + where he had already made some interesting acquaintances. + </p> + <p> + The time for the examination came; the French ballet did not prove a good + preparation; Ralph failed. It quite shook him for the time, and he felt + humiliated. He had not the courage to tell his father; so he lingered on + from day to day, sat vacantly gazing out of his window, and tried vainly + to interest himself in the busy bustle down on the street. It provoked him + that everybody else should be so light-hearted, when he was, or at least + fancied himself, in trouble. The parlor grew intolerable; he sought refuge + in his bedroom. There he sat one evening (it was the third day after the + examination), and stared out upon the gray stone walls which on all sides + enclosed the narrow court-yard. The round stupid face of the moon stood + tranquilly dozing like a great Limburger cheese suspended under the sky. + </p> + <p> + Ralph, at least, could think of a no more fitting simile. But the + bright-eyed young girl in the window hard by sent a longing look up to the + same moon, and thought of her distant home on the fjords, where the + glaciers stood like hoary giants, and caught the yellow moonbeams on their + glittering shields of snow. She had been reading “Ivanhoe” all the + afternoon, until the twilight had overtaken her quite unaware, and now she + suddenly remembered that she had forgotten to write her German exercise. + She lifted her face and saw a pair of sad, vacant eyes, gazing at her from + the next window in the angle of the court. She was a little startled at + first, but in the next moment she thought of her German exercise and took + heart. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know German?” she said; then immediately repented that she had + said it. + </p> + <p> + “I do,” was the answer. + </p> + <p> + She took up her apron and began to twist it with an air of embarrassment. + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t mean anything,” she whispered, at last. “I only wanted to know.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very kind.” + </p> + <p> + That answer roused her; he was evidently making sport of her. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, if you do, you may write my exercise for me. I have marked + the place in the book.” + </p> + <p> + And she flung her book over to his window, and he caught it on the edge of + the sill, just as it was falling. + </p> + <p> + “You are a very strange girl,” he remarked, turning over the leaves of the + book, although it was too dark to read. “How old are you?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall be fourteen six weeks before Christmas,” answered she, frankly. + </p> + <p> + “Then I excuse you.” + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed,” cried she, vehemently. “You needn’t excuse me at all. If you + don’t want to write my exercise, you may send the book back again. I am + very sorry I spoke to you, and I shall never do it again.” + </p> + <p> + “But you will not get the book back again without the exercise,” replied + he, quietly. “Good-night.” + </p> + <p> + The girl stood long looking after him, hoping that he would return. Then, + with a great burst of repentance, she hid her face in her lap, and began + to cry. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear, I didn’t mean to be rude,” she sobbed. “But it was Ivanhoe and + Rebecca who upset me.” + </p> + <p> + The next morning she was up before daylight, and waited for two long hours + in great suspense before the curtain of his window was raised. He greeted + her politely; threw a hasty glance around the court to see if he was + observed, and then tossed her book dexterously over into her hands. + </p> + <p> + “I have pinned the written exercise to the fly-leaf,” he said. “You will + probably have time to copy it before breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + “I am ever so much obliged to you,” she managed to stammer. + </p> + <p> + He looked so tall and handsome, and grown-up, and her remorse stuck in her + throat, and threatened to choke her. She had taken him for a boy as he sat + there in his window the evening before. + </p> + <p> + “By the way, what is your name?” he asked, carelessly, as he turned to go. + </p> + <p> + “Bertha.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, my dear Bertha, I am happy to have made your acquaintance.” + </p> + <p> + And he again made her a polite bow, and entered his parlor. + </p> + <p> + “How provokingly familiar he is,” thought she; “but no one can deny that + he is handsome.” + </p> + <p> + The bright roguish face of the young girl haunted Ralph during the whole + next week. He had been in love at least ten times before, of course; but, + like most boys, with young ladies far older than himself. He found himself + frequently glancing over to her window in the hope of catching another + glimpse of her face; but the curtain was always drawn down, and Bertha + remained invisible. During the second week, however, she relented, and + they had many a pleasant chat together. He now volunteered to write all + her exercises, and she made no objections. He learned that she was the + daughter of a well-to-do peasant in the sea-districts of Norway (and it + gave him quite a shock to hear it), and that she was going to school in + the city, and boarded with an old lady who kept a pension in the house + adjoining the one in which he lived. + </p> + <p> + One day in the autumn Ralph was surprised by the sudden arrival of his + father, and the fact of his failure in the examination could no longer be + kept a secret. The old Colonel flared up at once when Ralph made his + confession; the large veins upon his forehead swelled; he grew coppery-red + in his face, and stormed up and down the floor, until his son became + seriously alarmed; but, to his great relief, he was soon made aware that + his father’s wrath was not turned against him personally, but against the + officials of the Military Academy who had rejected him. The Colonel took + it as an insult to his own good name and irreproachable standing as an + officer; he promptly refused any other explanation, and vainly racked his + brain to remember if any youthful folly of his could possibly have made + him enemies among the teachers of the Academy. He at last felt satisfied + that it was envy of his own greatness and rapid advancement which had + induced the rascals to take vengeance on his son. Ralph reluctantly + followed his father back to the country town where the latter was + stationed, and the fair-haired Bertha vanished from his horizon. His + mother’s wish now prevailed, and he began, in his own easy way, to prepare + himself for the University. He had little taste for Cicero, and still less + for Virgil, but with the use of a “pony” he soon gained sufficient + knowledge of these authors to be able to talk in a sort of patronizing way + about them, to the great delight of his fond parents. He took quite a + fancy, however, to the ode in Horace ending with the lines: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Dulce ridentem, + Dulce loquentem, + Lalagen amabo. +</pre> + <p> + And in his thought he substituted for Lalage the fair-haired Bertha, quite + regardless of the requirements of the metre. + </p> + <p> + To make a long story short, three years later Ralph returned to the + capital, and, after having worn out several tutors, actually succeeded in + entering the University. + </p> + <p> + The first year of college life is a happy time to every young man, and + Ralph enjoyed its processions, its parliamentary gatherings, and its + leisure, as well as the rest. He was certainly not the man to be + sentimental over the loss of a young girl whom, moreover, he had only + known for a few weeks. Nevertheless, he thought of her at odd times, but + not enough to disturb his pleasure. The standing of his family, his own + handsome appearance, and his immaculate linen opened to him the best + houses of the city, and he became a great favorite in society. At lectures + he was seldom seen, but more frequently in the theatres, where he used to + come in during the middle of the first act, take his station in front of + the orchestra box, and eye, through his lorgnettes, by turns, the + actresses and the ladies of the parquet. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. + </h2> + <p> + Two months passed, and then came the great annual ball which the students + give at the opening of the second semester. Ralph was a man of importance + that evening; first, because he belonged to a great family; secondly, + because he was the handsomest man of his year. He wore a large golden star + on his breast (for his fellow-students had made him a Knight of the Golden + Boar), and a badge of colored ribbons in his button-hole. + </p> + <p> + The ball was a brilliant affair, and everybody was in excellent spirits, + especially the ladies. Ralph danced incessantly, twirled his soft + mustache, and uttered amiable platitudes. It was toward midnight, just as + the company was moving out to supper, that he caught the glance of a pair + of dark-blue eyes, which suddenly drove the blood to his cheeks and + hastened the beating of his heart. But when he looked once more the + dark-blue eyes were gone, and his unruly heart went on hammering against + his side. He laid his hand on his breast and glanced furtively at his fair + neighbor, but she looked happy and unconcerned, for the flavor of the + ice-cream was delicious. It seemed an endless meal, but, when it was done, + Ralph rose, led his partner back to the ball-room, and hastily excused + himself. His glance wandered round the wide hall, seeking the + well-remembered eyes once more, and, at length, finding them in a remote + corner, half hid behind a moving wall of promenaders. In another moment he + was at Bertha’s side. + </p> + <p> + “You must have been purposely hiding yourself, Miss Bertha,” said he, when + the usual greetings were exchanged. “I have not caught a glimpse of you + all this evening, until a few moments ago.” + </p> + <p> + “But I have seen you all the while,” answered the girl, frankly. “I knew + you at once as I entered the hall.” + </p> + <p> + “If I had but known that you were here,” resumed Ralph, as it were, + invisibly expanding with an agreeable sense of dignity, “I assure you, you + would have been the very first one I should have sought.” + </p> + <p> + She raised her large grave eyes to his, as if questioning his sincerity; + but she made no answer. + </p> + <p> + “Good gracious!” thought Ralph. “She takes things terribly in earnest.” + </p> + <p> + “You look so serious, Miss Bertha,” said he, after a moment’s pause. “I + remember you as a bright-eyed, flaxen-haired little girl, who threw her + German exercise-book to me across the yard, and whose merry laughter still + rings pleasantly in my memory. I confess I don’t find it quite easy to + identify this grave young lady with my merry friend of three years ago.” + </p> + <p> + “In other words, you are disappointed at not finding me the same as I used + to be.” + </p> + <p> + “No, not exactly that; but—” + </p> + <p> + Ralph paused and looked puzzled. There was something in the earnestness of + her manner which made a facetious compliment seem grossly inappropriate, + and in the moment no other escape suggested itself. + </p> + <p> + “But what?” demanded Bertha, mercilessly. + </p> + <p> + “Have you ever lost an old friend?” asked he, abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; how so?” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” answered he, while his features lighted up with a happy + inspiration—“then you will appreciate my situation. I fondly + cherished my old picture of you in my memory. Now I have lost it, and I + cannot help regretting the loss. I do not mean, however, to imply that + this new acquaintance—this second edition of yourself, so to speak—will + prove less interesting.” + </p> + <p> + She again sent him a grave, questioning look, and began to gaze intently + upon the stone in her bracelet. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you will laugh at me,” began she, while a sudden blush flitted + over her countenance. “But this is my first ball, and I feel as if I had + rushed into a whirlpool, from which I have, since the first rash plunge + was made, been vainly trying to escape. I feel so dreadfully forlorn. I + hardly know anybody here except my cousin, who invited me, and I hardly + think I know him either.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, since you are irredeemably committed,” replied Ralph, as the music, + after some prefatory flourishes, broke into the delicious rhythm of a + Strauss waltz, “then it is no use struggling against fate. Come, let us + make the plunge together. Misery loves company.” + </p> + <p> + He offered her his arm, and she arose, somewhat hesitatingly, and + followed. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid,” she whispered, as they fell into line with the procession + that was moving down the long hall, “that you have asked me to dance + merely because I said I felt forlorn. If that is the case, I should prefer + to be led back to my seat.” + </p> + <p> + “What a base imputation!” cried Ralph. + </p> + <p> + There was something so charmingly naïve in this self-depreciation— + something so altogether novel in his experience, and, he could not help + adding, just a little bit countrified. His spirits rose; he began to + relish keenly his position as an experienced man of the world, and, in the + agreeable glow of patronage and conscious superiority, chatted with hearty + ABANDON with his little rustic beauty. + </p> + <p> + “If your dancing is as perfect as your German exercises were,” said she, + laughing, as they swung out upon the floor, “then I promise myself a good + deal of pleasure from our meeting.” + </p> + <p> + “Never fear,” answered he, quickly reversing his step, and whirling with + many a capricious turn away among the thronging couples. + </p> + <p> + When Ralph drove home in his carriage toward morning he briefly summed up + his impressions of Bertha in the following adjectives: intelligent, + delightfully unsophisticated, a little bit verdant, but devilish pretty. + </p> + <p> + Some weeks later Colonel Grim received an appointment at the fortress of + Aggershuus, and immediately took up his residence in the capital. He saw + that his son cut a fine figure in the highest circles of society, and + expressed his gratification in the most emphatic terms. If he had known, + however, that Ralph was in the habit of visiting, with alarming + regularity, at the house of a plebeian merchant in a somewhat obscure + street, he would, no doubt, have been more chary of his praise. But the + Colonel suspected nothing, and it was well for the peace of the family + that he did not. It may have been cowardice in Ralph that he never + mentioned Bertha’s name to his family or to his aristocratic + acquaintances; for, to be candid, he himself felt ashamed of the power she + exerted over him, and by turns pitied and ridiculed himself for pursuing + so inglorious a conquest. Nevertheless it wounded his egotism that she + never showed any surprise at seeing him, that she received him with a + certain frank unceremoniousness, which, however, was very becoming to her; + that she invariably went on with her work heedless of his presence, and in + everything treated him as if she had been his equal. She persisted in + talking with him in a half sisterly fashion about his studies and his + future career, warned him with great solicitude against some of his + reprobate friends, of whose merry adventures he had told her; and if he + ventured to compliment her on her beauty or her accomplishments, she would + look up gravely from her sewing, or answer him in a way which seemed to + banish the idea of love-making into the land of the impossible. He was + constantly tormented by the suspicion that she secretly disapproved of + him, and that from a mere moral interest in his welfare she was + conscientiously laboring to make him a better man. Day after day he parted + from her feeling humiliated, faint-hearted, and secretly indignant both at + himself and her, and day after day he returned only to renew the same + experience. At last it became too intolerable, he could endure it no + longer. Let it make or break, certainty, at all risks, was at least + preferable to this sickening suspense. That he loved her, he could no + longer doubt; let his parents foam and fret as much as they pleased; for + once he was going to stand on his own legs. And in the end, he thought, + they would have to yield, for they had no son but him. + </p> + <p> + Bertha was going to return to her home on the sea-coast in a week. Ralph + stood in the little low-ceiled parlor, as she imagined, to bid her + good-bye. They had been speaking of her father, her brothers, and the + farm, and she had expressed the wish that if he ever should come to that + part of the country he might pay them a visit. Her words had kindled a + vague hope in his breast, but in their very frankness and friendly regard + there was something which slew the hope they had begotten. He held her + hand in his, and her large confiding eyes shone with an emotion which was + beautiful, but was yet not love. + </p> + <p> + “If you were but a peasant born like myself,” said she, in a voice which + sounded almost tender, “then I should like to talk to you as I would to my + own brother; but—” + </p> + <p> + “No, not brother, Bertha,” cried he, with sudden vehemence; “I love you + better than I ever loved any earthly being, and if you knew how firmly + this love has clutched at the roots of my heart, you would perhaps—you + would at least not look so reproachfully at me.” + </p> + <p> + She dropped his hand, and stood for a moment silent. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry that it should have come to this, Mr. Grim,” said she, visibly + struggling for calmness. “And I am perhaps more to blame than you.” + </p> + <p> + “Blame,” muttered he, “why are you to blame?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I do not love you; although I sometimes feared that this might + come. But then again I persuaded myself that it could not be so.” + </p> + <p> + He took a step toward the door, laid his hand on the knob, and gazed down + before him. + </p> + <p> + “Bertha,” began he, slowly, raising his head, “you have always disapproved + of me, you have despised me in your heart, but you thought you would be + doing a good work if you succeeded in making a man of me.” + </p> + <p> + “You use strong language,” answered she, hesitatingly; “but there is truth + in what you say.” + </p> + <p> + Again there was a long pause, in which the ticking of the old parlor clock + grew louder and louder. + </p> + <p> + “Then,” he broke out at last, “tell me before we part if I can do nothing + to gain—I will not say your love—but only your regard? What + would you do if you were in my place?” + </p> + <p> + “My advice you will hardly heed, and I do not even know that it would be + well if you did. But if I were a man in your position, I should break with + my whole past, start out into the world where nobody knew me, and where I + should be dependent only upon my own strength, and there I would conquer a + place for myself, if it were only for the satisfaction of knowing that I + was really a man. Here cushions are sewed under your arms, a hundred + invisible threads bind you to a life of idleness and vanity, everybody is + ready to carry you on his hands, the road is smoothed for you, every stone + carefully moved out of your path, and you will probably go to your grave + without having ever harbored one earnest thought, without having done one + manly deed.” + </p> + <p> + Ralph stood transfixed, gazing at her with open mouth; he felt a kind of + stupid fright, as if some one had suddenly seized him by the shoulders and + shaken him violently. He tried vainly to remove his eyes from Bertha. She + held him as by a powerful spell. He saw that her face was lighted with an + altogether new beauty; he noticed the deep glow upon her cheek, the + brilliancy of her eye, the slight quiver of her lip. But he saw all this + as one sees things in a half-trance, without attempting to account for + them; the door between his soul and his senses was closed. + </p> + <p> + “I know that I have been bold in speaking to you in this way,” she said at + last, seating herself in a chair at the window. “But it was yourself who + asked me. And I have felt all the time that I should have to tell you this + before we parted.” + </p> + <p> + “And,” answered he, making a strong effort to appear calm, “if I follow + your advice, will you allow me to see you once more before you go?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall remain here another week, and shall, during that time, always be + ready to receive you.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. Good-bye.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye.” + </p> + <p> + Ralph carefully avoided all the fashionable thoroughfares; he felt + degraded before himself, and he had an idea that every man could read his + humiliation in his countenance. Now he walked on quickly, striking the + sidewalk with his heels; now, again, he fell into an uneasy, reckless + saunter, according as the changing moods inspired defiance of his + sentence, or a qualified surrender. And, as he walked on, the bitterness + grew within him, and he pitilessly reviled himself for having allowed + himself to be made a fool of by “that little country goose,” when he was + well aware that there were hundreds of women of the best families of the + land who would feel honored at receiving his attentions. But this sort of + reasoning he knew to be both weak and contemptible, and his better self + soon rose in loud rebellion. + </p> + <p> + “After all,” he muttered, “in the main thing she was right. I am a + miserable good-for-nothing, a hot-house plant, a poor stick, and if I were + a woman myself, I don’t think I should waste my affections on a man of + that calibre.” + </p> + <p> + Then he unconsciously fell to analyzing Bertha’s character, wondering + vaguely that a person who moved so timidly in social life, appearing so + diffident, from an ever-present fear of blundering against the established + forms of etiquette, could judge so quickly, and with such a merciless + certainty, whenever a moral question, a question of right and wrong, was + at issue. And, pursuing the same train of thought, he contrasted her with + himself, who moved in the highest spheres of society as in his native + element, heedless of moral scruples, and conscious of no loftier motive + for his actions than the immediate pleasure of the moment. + </p> + <p> + As Ralph turned the corner of a street, he heard himself hailed from the + other sidewalk by a chorus of merry voices. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, my dear Baroness,” cried a young man, springing across the street and + grasping Ralph’s hand (all his student friends called him the Baroness), + “in the name of this illustrious company, allow me to salute you. But why + the deuce—what is the matter with you? If you have the Katzenjammer, + <a href="#linknote-7" name="linknoteref-7" id="linknoteref-7"><small>7</small></a> + soda-water is the thing. Come along,—it’s my treat!” + </p> + <p> + The students instantly thronged around Ralph, who stood distractedly + swinging his cane and smiling idiotically. + </p> + <p> + “I am not quite well,” said he; “leave me alone.” + </p> + <p> + “No, to be sure, you don’t look well,” cried a jolly youth, against whom + Bertha had frequently warned him; “but a glass of sherry will soon restore + you. It would be highly immoral to leave you in this condition without + taking care of you.” + </p> + <p> + Ralph again vainly tried to remonstrate; but the end was, that he + reluctantly followed. + </p> + <p> + He had always been a conspicuous figure in the student world; but that + night he astonished his friends by his eloquence, his reckless humor, and + his capacity for drinking. He made a speech for “Woman,” which bristled + with wit, cynicism, and sarcastic epigrams. One young man, named Vinter, + who was engaged, undertook to protest against his sweeping condemnation, + and declared that Ralph, who was a Universal favorite among the ladies, + ought to be the last to revile them. + </p> + <p> + “If,” he went on, “the Baroness should propose to six well-known ladies + here in this city whom I could mention, I would wager six Johannisbergers, + and an equal amount of champagne, that every one of them would accept + him.” + </p> + <p> + The others loudly applauded this proposal, and Ralph accepted the wager. + The letters were written on the spot, and immediately dispatched. Toward + morning, the merry carousal broke up, and Ralph was conducted in triumph + to his home. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. + </h2> + <p> + Two days later, Ralph again knocked on Bertha’s door. He looked paler than + usual, almost haggard; his immaculate linen was a little crumpled, and he + carried no cane; his lips were tightly compressed, and his face wore an + air of desperate resolution. + </p> + <p> + “It is done,” he said, as he seated himself opposite her. “I am going.” + </p> + <p> + “Going!” cried she, startled at his unusual appearance. “How, where?” + </p> + <p> + “To America. I sail to-night. I have followed your advice, you see. I have + cut off the last bridge behind me.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Ralph,” she exclaimed, in a voice of alarm. “Something dreadful must + have happened. Tell me quick; I must know it.” + </p> + <p> + “No; nothing dreadful,” muttered he, smiling bitterly. “I have made a + little scandal, that is all. My father told me to-day to go to the devil, + if I chose, and my mother gave me five hundred dollars to help me along on + the way. If you wish to know, here is the explanation.” + </p> + <p> + And he pulled from his pocket six perfumed and carefully folded notes, and + threw them into her lap. + </p> + <p> + “Do you wish me to read them?” she asked, with growing surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly. Why not?” + </p> + <p> + She hastily opened one note after the other, and read. + </p> + <p> + “But, Ralph,” she cried, springing up from her seat, while her eyes flamed + with indignation, “what does this mean? What have you done?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t think it needed any explanation,” replied he, with feigned + indifference. “I proposed to them all, and, you see, they all accepted me. + I received all these letters to-day. I only wished to know whether the + whole world regarded me as such a worthless scamp as you told me I was.” + </p> + <p> + She did not answer, but sat mutely staring at him, fiercely crumpling a + rose-colored note in her hand. He began to feel uncomfortable under her + gaze, and threw himself about uneasily in his chair. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said he, at length, rising, “I suppose there is nothing more. + Good-bye.” + </p> + <p> + “One moment, Mr. Grim,” demanded she, sternly. “Since I have already said + so much, and you have obligingly revealed to me a new side of your + character, I claim the right to correct the opinion I expressed of you at + our last meeting.” + </p> + <p> + “I am all attention.” + </p> + <p> + “I did think, Mr. Grim,” began she, breathing hard, and steadying herself + against the table at which she stood, “that you were a very selfish man—an + embodiment of selfishness, absolute and supreme, but I did not believe + that you were wicked.” + </p> + <p> + “And what convinced you that I was selfish, if I may ask?” + </p> + <p> + “What convinced me?” repeated she, in a tone of inexpressible contempt. + “When did you ever act from any generous regard for others? What good did + you ever do to anybody?” + </p> + <p> + “You might ask, with equal justice, what good I ever did to myself.” + </p> + <p> + “In a certain sense, yes; because to gratify a mere momentary wish is + hardly doing one’s self good.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I have, at all events, followed the Biblical precept, and treated my + neighbor very much as I treat myself.” + </p> + <p> + “I did think,” continued Bertha, without heeding the remark, “that you + were at bottom kind-hearted, but too hopelessly well-bred ever to commit + an act of any decided complexion, either good or bad. Now I see that I + have misjudged you, and that you are capable of outraging the most sacred + feelings of a woman’s heart in mere wantonness, or for the sake of + satisfying a base curiosity, which never could have entered the mind of an + upright and generous man.” + </p> + <p> + The hard, benumbed look in Ralph’s face thawed in the warmth of her + presence, and her words, though stern, touched a secret spring in his + heart. He made two or three vain attempts to speak, then suddenly broke + down, and cried: + </p> + <p> + “Bertha, Bertha, even if you scorn me, have patience with me, and listen.” + </p> + <p> + And he told her, in rapid, broken sentences, how his love for her had + grown from day to day, until he could no longer master it; and how, in an + unguarded moment, when his pride rose in fierce conflict against his love, + he had done this reckless deed of which he was now heartily ashamed. The + fervor of his words touched her, for she felt that they were sincere. + Large mute tears trembled in her eyelashes as she sat gazing tenderly at + him, and in the depth of her soul the wish awoke that she might have been + able to return this great and strong love of his; for she felt that in + this love lay the germ of a new, of a stronger and better man. She + noticed, with a half-regretful pleasure, his handsome figure, his + delicately shaped hands, and the noble cast of his features; an + overwhelming pity for him rose within her, and she began to reproach + herself for having spoken so harshly, and, as she now thought, so + unjustly. Perhaps he read in her eyes the unspoken wish. He seized her + hand, and his words fell with a warm and alluring cadence upon her ear. + </p> + <p> + “I shall not see you for a long time to come, Bertha,” said he, “but if, + at the end of five or six years your hand is still free, and I return + another man—a man to whom you could safely intrust your happiness—would + you then listen to what I may have to say to you? For I promise, by all + that we both hold sacred—” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” interrupted she, hastily. “Promise nothing. It would be unjust + to—yourself, and perhaps also to me; for a sacred promise is a + terrible thing, Ralph. Let us both remain free; and, if you return and + still love me, then come, and I shall receive you and listen to you. And + even if you have outgrown your love, which is, indeed, more probable, come + still to visit me wherever I may be, and we shall meet as friends and + rejoice in the meeting.” + </p> + <p> + “You know best,” he murmured. “Let it be as you have said.” + </p> + <p> + He arose, took her face between his hands, gazed long and tenderly into + her eyes, pressed a kiss upon her forehead, and hastened away. + </p> + <p> + That night Ralph boarded the steamer for Hull, and three weeks later + landed in New York. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV. + </h2> + <p> + The first three months of Ralph’s sojourn in America were spent in vain + attempts to obtain a situation. Day after day he walked down Broadway, + calling at various places of business and night after night he returned to + his cheerless room with a faint heart and declining spirits. It was, after + all, a more serious thing than he had imagined, to cut the cable which + binds one to the land of one’s birth. There a hundred subtile influences, + the existence of which no one suspects until the moment they are + withdrawn, unite to keep one in the straight path of rectitude, or at + least of external respectability; and Ralph’s life had been all in + society; the opinion of his fellow-men had been the one force to which he + implicitly deferred, and the conscience by which he had been wont to test + his actions had been nothing but the aggregate judgment of his friends. To + such a man the isolation and the utter irresponsibility of a life among + strangers was tenfold more dangerous; and Ralph found, to his horror, that + his character contained innumerable latent possibilities which the + easygoing life in his home probably never would have revealed to him. It + often cut him to the quick, when, on entering an office in his daily + search for employment, he was met by hostile or suspicious glances, or + when, as it occasionally happened, the door was slammed in his face, as if + he were a vagabond or an impostor. Then the wolf was often roused within + him, and he felt a momentary wild desire to become what the people here + evidently believed him to be. Many a night he sauntered irresolutely about + the gambling places in obscure streets, and the glare of light, the rude + shouts and clamors in the same moment repelled and attracted him. If he + went to the devil, who would care? His father had himself pointed out the + way to him; and nobody could blame him if he followed the advice. But then + again a memory emerged from that chamber of his soul which still he held + sacred; and Bertha’s deep-blue eyes gazed upon him with their earnest look + of tender warning and regret. + </p> + <p> + When the summer was half gone, Ralph had gained many a hard victory over + himself, and learned many a useful lesson; and at length he swallowed his + pride, divested himself of his fine clothes, and accepted a position as + assistant gardener at a villa on the Hudson. And as he stood perspiring + with a spade in his hand, and a cheap broad-brimmed straw hat on his head, + he often took a grim pleasure in picturing to himself how his aristocratic + friends at home would receive him, if he should introduce himself to them + in this new costume. + </p> + <p> + “After all, it was only my position they cared for,” he reflected, + bitterly; “without my father’s name what would I be to them?” + </p> + <p> + Then, again, there was a certain satisfaction in knowing that, for his + present situation, humble as it was, he was indebted to nobody but + himself; and the thought that Bertha’s eyes, if they could have seen him + now would have dwelt upon him with pleasure and approbation, went far to + console him for his aching back, his sunburned face, and his swollen and + blistered hands. + </p> + <p> + One day, as Ralph was raking the gravel-walks in the garden, his + employer’s daughter, a young lady of seventeen, came out and spoke to him. + His culture and refinement of manner struck her with wonder, and she asked + him to tell her his history; but then he suddenly grew very grave, and she + forbore pressing him. From that time she attached a kind of romantic + interest to him, and finally induced her father to obtain him a situation + that would be more to his taste. And, before winter came, Ralph saw the + dawn of a new future glimmering before him. He had wrestled bravely with + fate, and had once more gained a victory. He began the career in which + success and distinction awaited him, as proof-reader on a newspaper in the + city. He had fortunately been familiar with the English language before he + left home, and by the strength of his will he conquered all difficulties. + At the end of two years he became attached to the editorial staff; new + ambitious hopes, hitherto foreign to his mind, awoke within him; and with + joyous tumult of heart he saw life opening its wide vistas before him, and + he labored on manfully to repair the losses of the past, and to prepare + himself for greater usefulness in times to come. He felt in himself a + stronger and fuller manhood, as if the great arteries of the vast + universal world-life pulsed in his own being. The drowsy, indolent + existence at home appeared like a dull remote dream from which he had + awaked, and he blessed the destiny which, by its very sternness, had + mercifully saved him; he blessed her, too, who, from the very want of love + for him, had, perhaps, made him worthier of love. + </p> + <p> + The years flew rapidly. Society had flung its doors open to him, and what + was more, he had found some warm friends, in whose houses he could come + and go at pleasure. He enjoyed keenly the privilege of daily association + with high-minded and refined women; their eager activity of intellect + stimulated him, their exquisite ethereal grace and their delicately + chiseled beauty satisfied his aesthetic cravings, and the responsive + vivacity of their nature prepared him ever new surprises. He felt a + strange fascination in the presence of these women, and the conviction + grew upon him that their type of womanhood was superior to any he had + hitherto known. And by way of refuting his own argument, he would draw + from his pocket-book the photograph of Bertha, which had a secret + compartment there all to itself, and, gazing tenderly at it, would eagerly + defend her against the disparaging reflections which the involuntary + comparison had provoked. And still, how could he help seeing that her + features, though well molded, lacked animation; that her eye, with its + deep, trustful glance, was not brilliant, and that the calm earnestness of + her face, when compared with the bright, intellectual beauty of his + present friends, appeared pale and simple, like a violet in a bouquet of + vividly colored roses? It gave him a quick pang, when, at times, he was + forced to admit this; nevertheless, it was the truth. + </p> + <p> + After six years of residence in America, Ralph had gained a very high + reputation as a journalist of rare culture and ability, and, in 1867 he + was sent to the World’s Exhibition in Paris, as correspondent of the paper + on which he had during all these years been employed. What wonder, then, + that he started for Europe a few weeks before his presence was needed in + the imperial city, and that he steered his course directly toward the + fjord valley where Bertha had her home? It was she who had bidden him + Godspeed when he fled from the land of his birth, and she, too, should + receive his first greeting on his return. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V. + </h2> + <p> + The sun had fortified itself behind a citadel of flaming clouds, and the + upper forest region shone with a strange ethereal glow, while the lower + plains were wrapped in shadow; but the shadow itself had a strong + suffusion of color. The mountain peaks rose cold and blue in the distance. + </p> + <p> + Ralph, having inquired his way of the boatman who had landed him at the + pier, walked rapidly along the beach, with a small valise in his hand, and + a light summer overcoat flung over his shoulder. Many half-thoughts grazed + his mind, and ere the first had taken shape, the second, and the third + came and chased it away. And still they all in some fashion had reference + to Bertha; for in a misty, abstract way, she filled his whole mind; but + for some indefinable reason, he was afraid to give free rein to the + sentiment which lurked in the remoter corners of his soul. + </p> + <p> + Onward he hastened, while his heart throbbed with the quickening tempo of + mingled expectation and fear. Now and then one of those chill gusts of air + which seem to be careering about aimlessly in the atmosphere during early + summer, would strike into his face, and recall him to a keener + self-consciousness. + </p> + <p> + Ralph concluded, from his increasing agitation, that he must be very near + Bertha’s home. He stopped and looked around him. He saw a large maple at + the roadside, some thirty steps from where he was standing, and the girl + who was sitting under it, resting her head in her hand and gazing out over + the sea, he recognized in an instant to be Bertha. He sprang up on the + road, not crossing, however, her line of vision, and approached her + noiselessly from behind. + </p> + <p> + “Bertha,” he whispered. + </p> + <p> + She gave a little joyous cry, sprang up, and made a gesture as if to throw + herself in his arms; then suddenly checked herself, blushed crimson, and + moved a step backward. + </p> + <p> + “You came so suddenly,” she murmured. + </p> + <p> + “But, Bertha,” cried he (and the full bass of his voice rang through her + very soul), “have I gone into exile and waited these many years for so + cold a welcome?” + </p> + <p> + “You have changed so much, Ralph,” she answered, with that old grave smile + which he knew so well, and stretched out both her hands toward him. “And I + have thought of you so much since you went away, and blamed myself because + I had judged you so harshly, and wondered that you could listen to me so + patiently, and never bear me any malice for what I said.” + </p> + <p> + “If you had said a word less,” declared Ralph, seating himself at her side + on the greensward, “or if you had varnished it over with politeness, then + you would probably have failed to produce any effect and I should not have + been burdened with that heavy debt of gratitude which I now owe you. I was + a pretty thick-skinned animal in those days, Bertha. You said the right + word at the right moment; you gave me a hold and a good piece of advice, + which my own ingenuity would never have suggested to me. I will not thank + you, because, in so grave a case as this, spoken thanks sound like a mere + mockery. Whatever I am, Bertha, and whatever I may hope to be, I owe it + all to that hour.” + </p> + <p> + She listened with rapture to the manly assurance of his voice; her eyes + dwelt with unspeakable joy upon his strong, bronzed features, his full + thick blonde beard, and the vigorous proportions of his frame. Many and + many a time during his absence had she wondered how he would look if he + ever came back, and with that minute conscientiousness which, as it were, + pervaded her whole character, she had held herself responsible before God + for his fate, prayed for him, and trembled lest evil powers should gain + the ascendency over his soul. + </p> + <p> + On their way to the house they talked together of many things, but in a + guarded, cautious fashion, and without the cheerful abandonment of former + years. They both, as it were, groped their way carefully in each other’s + minds, and each vaguely felt that there was something in the other’s + thought which it was not well to touch unbidden. Bertha saw that all her + fears for him had been groundless, and his very appearance lifted the + whole weight of responsibility from her breast; and still, did she rejoice + at her deliverance from her burden? Ah, no, in this moment she knew that + that which she had foolishly cherished as the best and noblest part of + herself, had been but a selfish need of her own heart. She feared that she + had only taken that interest in him which one feels in a thing of one’s + own making; and now, when she saw that he had risen quite above her; that + he was free and strong, and could have no more need of her, she had, + instead of generous pleasure at his success, but a painful sense of + emptiness, as if something very dear had been taken from her. + </p> + <p> + Ralph, too, was loath to analyze the impression his old love made upon + him. His feelings were of so complex a nature, he was anxious to keep his + more magnanimous impulses active, and he strove hard to convince himself + that she was still the same to him as she had been before they had ever + parted. But, alas! though the heart be warm and generous, the eye is a + merciless critic. And the man who had moved on the wide arena of the + world, whose mind had housed the large thoughts of this century, and + expanded with its invigorating breath,—was he to blame because he + had unconsciously outgrown his old provincial self, and could no more + judge by its standards? + </p> + <p> + Bertha’s father was a peasant, but he had, by his lumber trade, acquired + what in Norway was called a very handsome fortune. He received his guest + with dignified reserve, and Ralph thought he detected in his eyes a + lurking look of distrust. “I know your errand,” that look seemed to say, + “but you had better give it up at once. It will be of no use for you to + try.” + </p> + <p> + And after supper, as Ralph and Bertha sat talking confidingly with each + other at the window, he sent his daughter a quick, sharp glance, and then, + without ceremony, commanded her to go to bed. Ralph’s heart gave a great + thump within him; not because he feared the old man, but because his + words, as well as his glances, revealed to him the sad history of these + long, patient years. He doubted no longer that the love which he had once + so ardently desired was his at last; and he made a silent vow that, come + what might, he would remain faithful. + </p> + <p> + As he came down to breakfast the next morning, he found Bertha sitting at + the window, engaged in hemming what appeared to be a rough kitchen towel. + She bent eagerly over her work, and only a vivid flush upon her cheek told + him that she had noticed his coming. He took a chair, seated himself + opposite her, and bade her “good-morning.” She raised her head, and showed + him a sweet, troubled countenance, which the early sunlight illumined with + a high spiritual beauty. It reminded him forcibly of those pale, + sweet-faced saints of Fra Angelico, with whom the frail flesh seems ever + on the point of yielding to the ardent aspirations of the spirit. And + still, even in this moment he could not prevent his eyes from observing + that one side of her forefinger was rough from sewing, and that the + whiteness of her arm, which the loose sleeves displayed, contrasted + strongly with the browned and sun-burned complexion of her hands. + </p> + <p> + After breakfast they again walked together on the beach, and Ralph, having + once formed his resolution, now talked freely of the New World—of + his sphere of activity there; of his friends and of his plans for the + future; and she listened to him with a mild, perplexed look in her eyes, + as if trying vainly to follow the flight of his thoughts. And he wondered, + with secret dismay, whether she was still the same strong, brave-hearted + girl whom he had once accounted almost bold; whether the life in this + narrow valley, amid a hundred petty and depressing cares, had not cramped + her spiritual growth, and narrowed the sphere of her thought. Or was she + still the same, and was it only he who had changed? At last he gave + utterance to his wonder, and she answered him in those grave, earnest + tones which seemed in themselves to be half a refutation of his doubts. + </p> + <p> + “It was easy for me to give you daring advice, then, Ralph,” she said. + “Like most school-girls, I thought that life was a great and glorious + thing, and that happiness was a fruit which hung within reach of every + hand. Now I have lived for six years trying single-handed to relieve the + want and suffering of the needy people with whom I come in contact, and + their squalor and wretchedness have sickened me, and, what is still worse, + I feel that all I can do is as a drop in the ocean, and after all, amounts + to nothing. I know I am no longer the same reckless girl, who, with the + very best intention, sent you wandering through the wide world; and I + thank God that it proved to be for your good, although the whole now + appears quite incredible to me. My thoughts have moved so long within the + narrow circle of these mountains that they have lost their youthful + elasticity, and can no more rise above them.” + </p> + <p> + Ralph detected, in the midst of her despondency, a spark of her former + fire, and grew eloquent in his endeavors to persuade her that she was + unjust to herself, and that there was but a wider sphere of life needed to + develop all the latent powers of her rich nature. + </p> + <p> + At the dinner-table, her father again sat eyeing his guest with that same + cold look of distrust and suspicion. And when the meal was at an end, he + rose abruptly and called his daughter into another room. Presently Ralph + heard his angry voice resounding through the house, interrupted now and + then by a woman’s sobs, and a subdued, passionate pleading. When Bertha + again entered the room, her eyes were very red, and he saw that she had + been weeping. She threw a shawl over her shoulders, beckoned to him with + her hand, and he arose and followed her. She led the way silently until + they reached a thick copse of birch and alder near the strand. She dropped + down upon a bench between two trees, and he took his seat at her side. + </p> + <p> + “Ralph,” began she, with a visible effort, “I hardly know what to say to + you; but there is something which I must tell you—my father wishes + you to leave us at once.” + </p> + <p> + “And YOU, Bertha?” + </p> + <p> + “Well—yes—I wish it too.” + </p> + <p> + She saw the painful shock which her words gave him, and she strove hard to + speak. Her lips trembled, her eyes became suffused with tears, which grew + and grew, but never fell; she could not utter a word. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Bertha,” answered he, with a little quiver in his voice, “if you, + too, wish me to go, I shall not tarry. Good-bye.” + </p> + <p> + He rose quickly, and, with averted face, held out his hand to her; but as + she made no motion to grasp the hand, he began distractedly to button his + coat, and moved slowly away. + </p> + <p> + “Ralph.” + </p> + <p> + He turned sharply, and, before he knew it, she lay sobbing upon his + breast. + </p> + <p> + “Ralph,” she murmured, while the tears almost choked her words, “I could + not have you leave me thus. It is hard enough—it is hard enough—” + </p> + <p> + “What is hard, beloved?” + </p> + <p> + She raised her head abruptly, and turned upon him a gaze full of hope and + doubt, and sweet perplexity. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, no, you do not love me,” she whispered, sadly. + </p> + <p> + “Why should I come to seek you, after these many years, dearest, if I did + not wish to make you my wife before God and men? Why should I—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes, I know,” she interrupted him with a fresh fit of weeping, “you + are too good and honest to wish to throw me away, now when you have seen + how my soul has hungered for the sight of you these many years, how even + now I cling to you with a despairing clutch. But you cannot disguise + yourself, Ralph, and I saw from the first moment that you loved me no + more.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not be such an unreasonable child,” he remonstrated, feebly. “I do not + love you with the wild, irrational passion of former years; but I have the + tenderest regard for you, and my heart warms at the sight of your sweet + face, and I shall do all in my power to make you as happy as any man can + make you who—” + </p> + <p> + “Who does not love me,” she finished. + </p> + <p> + A sudden shudder seemed to shake her whole frame, and she drew herself + more tightly up to him. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, no,” she continued, after a while, sinking back upon her seat. “It is + a hopeless thing to compel a reluctant heart. I will accept no sacrifice + from you. You owe me nothing, for you have acted toward me honestly and + uprightly, and I shall be a stronger, or—at least—a better + woman for what you gave me—and—for what you could not give me, + even though you would.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Bertha,” exclaimed he, looking mournfully at her, “it is not true + when you say that I owe you nothing. Six years ago, when first I wooed + you, you could not return my love, and you sent me out into the world, and + even refused to accept any pledge or promise for the future.” + </p> + <p> + “And you returned,” she responded, “a man, such as my hope had pictured + you; but, while I had almost been standing still, you had outgrown me, and + outgrown your old self, and, with your old self, outgrown its love for me, + for your love was not of your new self, but of the old. Alas! it is a sad + tale, but it is true.” + </p> + <p> + She spoke gravely now, and with a steadier voice, but her eyes hung upon + his face with an eager look of expectation, as if yearning to detect there + some gleam of hope, some contradiction of the dismal truth. He read that + look aright, and it pierced him like a sharp sword. He made a brave effort + to respond to its appeal, but his features seemed hard as stone, and he + could only cry out against his destiny, and bewail his misfortune and + hers. + </p> + <p> + Toward evening, Ralph was sitting in an open boat, listening to the + measured oar-strokes of the boatmen who were rowing him out to the nearest + stopping-place of the steamer. The mountains lifted their great placid + heads up among the sun-bathed clouds, and the fjord opened its cool depths + as if to make room for their vast reflections. Ralph felt as if he were + floating in the midst of the blue infinite space, and, with the strength + which this feeling inspired, he tried to face boldly the thought from + which he had but a moment ago shrunk as from something hopelessly sad and + perplexing. + </p> + <p> + And in that hour he looked fearlessly into the gulf which separates the + New World from the Old. He had hoped to bridge it; but, alas! it cannot be + bridged. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A SCIENTIFIC VAGABOND. + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. + </h2> + <p> + THE steamer which as far back as 1860 passed every week on its northward + way up along the coast of Norway, was of a very sociable turn of mind. It + ran with much shrieking and needless bluster in and out the calm, winding + fjords, paid unceremonious little visits in every out-of-the-way nook and + bay, dropped now and then a black heap of coal into the shining water, and + sent thick volleys of smoke and shrill little echoes careering aimlessly + among the mountains. It seemed, on the whole, from an aesthetic point of + view, an objectionable phenomenon—a blot upon the perfect summer + day. By the inhabitants, however, of these remote regions (with the + exception of a few obstinate individuals, who had at first looked upon it + as the sure herald of dooms-day, and still were vaguely wondering what the + world was coming to,) it was regarded in a very different light. This + choleric little monster was to them a friendly and welcome visitor, which + established their connection with the outside world, and gave them a proud + consciousness of living in the very heart of civilization. Therefore, on + steamboat days they flocked en masse down on the piers, and, with an + ever-fresh sense of novelty, greeted the approaching boat with lively + cheers, with firing of muskets and waving of handkerchiefs. The men of + condition, as the judge, the sheriff, and the parson, whose dignity + forbade them to receive the steamer in person, contented themselves with + watching it through an opera-glass from their balconies; and if a high + official was known to be on board, they perhaps displayed the national + banner from their flag-poles, as a delicate compliment to their superior. + </p> + <p> + But the Rev. Mr. Oddson, the parson of whom I have to speak, had this day + yielded to the gentle urgings of his daughters (as, indeed, he always + did), and had with them boarded the steamer to receive his nephew, Arnfinn + Vording, who was returning from the university for his summer vacation. + And now they had him between them in their pretty white-painted parsonage + boat, with the blue line along the gunwale, beleaguering him with eager + questions about friends and relatives in the capital, chums, university + sports, and a medley of other things interesting to young ladies who have + a collegian for a cousin. His uncle was charitable enough to check his own + curiosity about the nephew’s progress in the arts and sciences, and the + result of his recent examinations, till he should have become fairly + settled under his roof; and Arnfinn, who, in spite of his natural + brightness and ready humor, was anything but a “dig,” was grateful for the + respite. + </p> + <p> + The parsonage lay snugly nestled at the end of the bay, shining + contentedly through the green foliage from a multitude of small + sun-smitten windows. Its pinkish whitewash, which was peeling off from + long exposure to the weather, was in cheerful contrast to the broad black + surface of the roof, with its glazed tiles, and the starlings’ nests under + the chimney-tops. The thick-leaved maples and walnut-trees which grew in + random clusters about the walls seemed loftily conscious of standing there + for purposes of protection; for, wherever their long-fingered branches + happened to graze the roof, it was always with a touch, light, graceful, + and airily caressing. The irregularly paved yard was inclosed on two sides + by the main building, and on the third by a species of log cabin, which, + in Norway, is called a brew-house; but toward the west the view was but + slightly obscured by an elevated pigeon cot and a clump of birches, + through whose sparse leaves the fjord beneath sent its rapid jets and + gleams of light, and its strange suggestions of distance, peace and + unaccountable gladness. + </p> + <p> + Arnfinn Vording’s career had presented that subtle combination of farce + and tragedy which most human lives are apt to be; and if the tragic + element had during his early years been preponderating, he was hardly + himself aware of it; for he had been too young at the death of his parents + to feel that keenness of grief which the same privation would have given + him at a later period of his life. It might have been humiliating to + confess it, but it was nevertheless true that the terror he had once + sustained on being pursued by a furious bull was much more vivid in his + memory than the vague wonder and depression which had filled his mind at + seeing his mother so suddenly stricken with age, as she lay motionless in + her white robes in the front parlor. Since then his uncle, who was his + guardian and nearest relative, had taken him into his family, had + instructed him with his own daughters, and finally sent him to the + University, leaving the little fortune which he had inherited to + accumulate for future use. Arnfinn had a painfully distinct recollection + of his early hardships in trying to acquire that soft pronunciation of the + r which is peculiar to the western fjord districts of Norway, and which he + admired so much in his cousins; for the merry-eyed Inga, who was less + scrupulous by a good deal than her older sister, Augusta, had from the + beginning persisted in interpreting their relation of cousinship as an + unbounded privilege on her part to ridicule him for his personal + peculiarities, and especially for his harsh r and his broad eastern + accent. Her ridicule was always very good-natured, to be sure, but + therefore no less annoying. + </p> + <p> + But—such is the perverseness of human nature—in spite of a + series of apparent rebuffs, interrupted now and then by fits of violent + attachment, Arnfinn had early selected this dimpled and yellow-haired + young girl, with her piquant little nose, for his favorite cousin. It was + the prospect of seeing her which, above all else, had lent, in + anticipation, an altogether new radiance to the day when he should present + himself in his home with the long-tasseled student cap on his head, the + unnecessary “pinchers” on his nose, and with the other traditional + paraphernalia of the Norwegian student. That great day had now come; + Arnfinn sat at Inga’s side playing with her white fingers, which lay + resting on his knee, and covering the depth of his feeling with harmless + banter about her “amusingly unclassical little nose.” He had once detected + her, when a child, standing before a mirror, and pinching this unhappy + feature in the middle, in the hope of making it “like Augusta’s;” and + since then he had no longer felt so utterly defenseless whenever his own + foibles were attacked. + </p> + <p> + “But what of your friend, Arnfinn?” exclaimed Inga, as she ran up the + stairs of the pier. “He of whom you have written so much. I have been busy + all the morning making the blue guest-chamber ready for him.” + </p> + <p> + “Please, cousin,” answered the student, in a tone of mock entreaty, “only + an hour’s respite! If we are to talk about Strand we must make a day of + it, you know. And just now it seems so grand to be at home, and with you, + that I would rather not admit even so genial a subject as Strand to share + my selfish happiness.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes, you are right. Happiness is too often selfish. But tell me only + why he didn’t come and I’ll release you.” + </p> + <p> + “He IS coming.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! And when?” + </p> + <p> + “That I don’t know. He preferred to take the journey on foot, and he may + be here at almost any time. But, as I have told you, he is very uncertain. + If he should happen to make the acquaintance of some interesting snipe, or + crane, or plover, he may prefer its company to ours, and then there is no + counting on him any longer. He may be as likely to turn up at the North + Pole as at the Gran Parsonage.” + </p> + <p> + “How very singular. You don’t know how curious I am to see him.” + </p> + <p> + And Inga walked on in silence under the sunny birches which grew along the + road, trying vainly to picture to herself this strange phenomenon of a + man. + </p> + <p> + “I brought his book,” remarked Arnfinn, making a gigantic effort to be + generous, for he felt dim stirrings of jealousy within him. “If you care + to read it, I think it will explain him to you better than anything I + could say.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. + </h2> + <p> + The Oddsons were certainly a happy family though not by any means a + harmonious one. The excellent pastor, who was himself neutrally good, + orthodox, and kind-hearted, had often, in the privacy of his own thought, + wondered what hidden ancestral influences there might have been at work in + giving a man so peaceable and inoffensive as himself two daughters of such + strongly defined individuality. There was Augusta, the elder, who was what + Arnfinn called “indiscriminately reformatory,” and had a universal desire + to improve everything, from the Government down to agricultural implements + and preserve jars. As long as she was content to expend the surplus + energy, which seemed to accumulate within her through the long eventless + winters, upon the Zulu Mission, and other legitimate objects, the pastor + thought it all harmless enough; although, to be sure, her enthusiasm for + those naked and howling savages did at times strike him as being somewhat + extravagant. But when occasionally, in her own innocent way, she put both + his patience and his orthodoxy to the test by her exceedingly puzzling + questions, then he could not, in the depth of his heart, restrain the wish + that she might have been more like other young girls, and less ardently + solicitous about the fate of her kind. Affectionate and indulgent, + however, as the pastor was, he would often, in the next moment, do penance + for his unregenerate thought, and thank God for having made her so fair to + behold, so pure, and so noble-hearted. + </p> + <p> + Toward Arnfinn, Augusta had, although of his own age, early assumed a kind + of elder-sisterly relation; she had been his comforter during all the + trials of his boyhood; had yielded him her sympathy with that eager + impulse which lay so deep in her nature, and had felt forlorn when life + had called him away to where her words of comfort could not reach him. But + when once she had hinted this to her father, he had pedantically convinced + her that her feeling was unchristian, and Inga had playfully remarked that + the hope that some one might soon find the open Polar Sea would go far + toward consoling her for her loss; for Augusta had glorious visions at + that time of the open Polar Sea. Now, the Polar Sea, and many other + things, far nearer and dearer, had been forced into uneasy forgetfulness; + and Arnfinn was once more with her, no longer a child, and no longer + appealing to her for aid and sympathy; man enough, apparently, to have + outgrown his boyish needs and still boy enough to be ashamed of having + ever had them. + </p> + <p> + It was the third Sunday after Arnfinn’s return. He and Augusta were + climbing the hillside to the “Giant’s Hood,” from whence they had a wide + view of the fjord, and could see the sun trailing its long bridge of flame + upon the water. It was Inga’s week in the kitchen, therefore her sister + was Arnfinn’s companion. As they reached the crest of the “Hood,” Augusta + seated herself on a flat bowlder, and the young student flung himself on a + patch of greensward at her feet. The intense light of the late sun fell + upon the girl’s unconscious face, and Arnfinn lay, gazing up into it, and + wondering at its rare beauty; but he saw only the clean cut of its + features and the purity of its form, being too shallow to recognize the + strong and heroic soul which had struggled so long for utterance in the + life of which he had been a blind and unmindful witness. + </p> + <p> + “Gracious, how beautiful you are, cousin!” he broke forth, heedlessly, + striking his leg with his slender cane; “pity you were not born a queen; + you would be equal to almost anything, even if it were to discover the + Polar Sea.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought you were looking at the sun, Arnfinn,” answered she, smiling + reluctantly. + </p> + <p> + “And so I am, cousin,” laughed he, with an other-emphatic slap of his + boot. + </p> + <p> + “That compliment is rather stale.” + </p> + <p> + “But the opportunity was too tempting.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind, I will excuse you from further efforts. Turn around and + notice that wonderful purple halo which is hovering over the forests + below. Isn’t it glorious?” + </p> + <p> + “No, don’t let us be solemn, pray. The sun I have seen a thousand times + before, but you I have seen very seldom of late. Somehow, since I returned + this time, you seem to keep me at a distance. You no longer confide to me + your great plans for the abolishment of war, and the improvement of + mankind generally. Why don’t you tell me whether you have as yet succeeded + in convincing the peasants that cleanliness is a cardinal virtue, that + hawthorn hedges are more picturesque than rail fences, and that salt meat + is a very indigestible article?” + </p> + <p> + “You know the fate of my reforms, from long experience,” she answered, + with the same sad, sweet smile. “I am afraid there must be some thing + radically wrong about my methods; and, moreover, I know that your + aspirations and mine are no longer the same, if they ever have been, and I + am not ungenerous enough to force you to feign an interest which you do + not feel.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know you think me flippant and boyish,” retorted he, with sudden + energy, and tossing a stone down into the gulf below. “But, by the way, my + friend Strand, if he ever comes, would be just the man for you. He has + quite as many hobbies as you have, and, what is more, he has a profound + respect for hobbies in general, and is universally charitable toward those + of others.” + </p> + <p> + “Your friend is a great man,” said the girl, earnestly. “I have read his + book on `The Wading Birds of the Norwegian Highlands,’ and none but a + great man could have written it.” + </p> + <p> + “He is an odd stick, but, for all that, a capital fellow; and I have no + doubt you would get on admirably with him.” + </p> + <p> + At this moment the conversation was interrupted by the appearance of the + pastor’s man, Hans, who came to tell the “young miss” that there was a big + tramp hovering about the barns in the “out-fields,” where he had been + sleeping during the last three nights. He was a dangerous character, Hans + thought, at least judging from his looks, and it was hardly safe for the + young miss to be roaming about the fields at night as long as he was in + the neighborhood. + </p> + <p> + “Why don’t you speak to the pastor, and have him arrested?” said Arnfinn, + impatient of Hans’s long-winded recital. + </p> + <p> + “No, no, say nothing to father,” demanded Augusta, eagerly. “Why should + you arrest a poor man as long as he does nothing worse than sleep in the + barns in the out-fields?” + </p> + <p> + “As you say, miss,” retorted Hans, and departed. + </p> + <p> + The moon came up pale and mist-like over the eastern mountain ridges, + struggled for a few brief moments feebly with the sunlight, and then + vanished. + </p> + <p> + “It is strange,” said Arnfinn, “how everything reminds me of Strand + to-night. What gloriously absurd apostrophes to the moon he could make! I + have not told you, cousin, of a very singular gift which he possesses. He + can attract all kinds of birds and wild animals to himself; he can imitate + their voices, and they flock around him, as if he were one of them, + without fear of harm.” + </p> + <p> + “How delightful,” cried Augusta, with sudden animation. “What a glorious + man your friend must be!” + </p> + <p> + “Because the snipes and the wild ducks like him? You seem to have greater + confidence in their judgment than in mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I have—at least as long as you persist in joking. But, + jesting aside, what a wondrously beautiful life he must lead whom Nature + takes thus into her confidence; who has, as it were, an inner and subtler + sense, corresponding to each grosser and external one; who is keen-sighted + enough to read the character of every individual beast, and has ears + sensitive to the full pathos of joy or sorrow in the song of the birds + that inhabit our woodlands.” + </p> + <p> + “Whether he has any such second set of senses as you speak of, I don’t + know; but there can be no doubt that his familiarity, not to say intimacy, + with birds and beasts gives him a great advantage as a naturalist. I + suppose you know that his little book has been translated into French, and + rewarded with the gold medal of the Academy.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush! What is that?” Augusta sprang up, and held her hand to her ear. + </p> + <p> + “Some love-lorn mountain-cock playing yonder in the pine copse,” suggested + Arnfinn, amused at his cousin’s eagerness. + </p> + <p> + “You silly boy! Don’t you know the mountain-cock never plays except at + sunrise?” + </p> + <p> + “He would have a sorry time of it now, then, when there IS no sunrise.” + </p> + <p> + “And so he has; he does not play except in early spring.” + </p> + <p> + The noise, at first faint, now grew louder. It began with a series of + mellow, plaintive clucks that followed thickly one upon another, like + smooth pearls of sound that rolled through the throat in a continuous + current; then came a few sharp notes as of a large bird that snaps his + bill; then a long, half-melodious rumbling, intermingled with cacklings + and snaps, and at last, a sort of diminuendo movement of the same round, + pearly clucks. There was a whizzing of wing-beats in the air; two large + birds swept over their heads and struck down into the copse whence the + sound had issued. + </p> + <p> + “This is indeed a most singular thing,” said Augusta, under her breath, + and with wide-eyed wonder. “Let us go nearer, and see what it can be.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure I can go if you can,” responded Arnfinn, not any too eagerly. + “Give me your hand, and we can climb the better.” + </p> + <p> + As they approached the pine copse, which projected like a promontory from + the line of the denser forest, the noise ceased, and only the plaintive + whistling of a mountain-hen, calling her scattered young together, and now + and then the shrill response of a snipe to the cry of its lonely mate, + fell upon the summer night, not as an interruption, but as an outgrowth of + the very silence. Augusta stole with soundless tread through the + transparent gloom which lingered under those huge black crowns, and + Arnfinn followed impatiently after. Suddenly she motioned to him to stand + still, and herself bent forward in an attitude of surprise and eager + observation. On the ground, some fifty steps from where she was stationed, + she saw a man stretched out full length, with a knapsack under his head, + and surrounded by a flock of downy, half-grown birds, which responded with + a low, anxious piping to his alluring cluck, then scattered with sudden + alarm, only to return again in the same curious, cautious fashion as + before. Now and then there was a great flapping of wings in the trees + overhead, and a heavy brown and black speckled mountain-hen alighted close + to the man’s head, stretched out her neck toward him, cocked her head, + called her scattered brood together, and departed with slow and deliberate + wing-beats. + </p> + <p> + Again there was a frightened flutter overhead, a shrill anxious whistle + rose in the air, and all was silence. Augusta had stepped on a dry branch—it + had broken under her weight—hence the sudden confusion and flight. + The unknown man had sprung up, and his eye, after a moment’s search, had + found the dark, beautiful face peering forth behind the red fir-trunk. He + did not speak or salute her; he greeted her with silent joy, as one greets + a wondrous vision which is too frail and bright for consciousness to + grasp, which is lost the very instant one is conscious of seeing. But, + while to the girl the sight, as it were, hung trembling in the range of + mere physical perception, while its suddenness held it aloof from moral + reflection, there came a great shout from behind, and Arnfinn, whom in her + surprise she had quite forgotten, came bounding forward, grasping the + stranger by the hand with much vigor, laughing heartily, and pouring forth + a confused stream of delighted interjections, borrowed from all manner of + classical and unclassical tongues. + </p> + <p> + “Strand! Strand!” he cried, when the first tumult of excitement had + subsided; “you most marvelous and incomprehensible Strand! From what + region of heaven or earth did you jump down into our prosaic neighborhood? + And what in the world possessed you to choose our barns as the centre of + your operations, and nearly put me to the necessity of having you arrested + for vagrancy? How I do regret that Cousin Augusta’s entreaties mollified + my heart toward you. Pardon me, I have not introduced you. This is my + cousin, Miss Oddson, and this is my miraculous friend, the world-renowned + author, vagrant, and naturalist, Mr. Marcus Strand.” + </p> + <p> + Strand stepped forward, made a deep but somewhat awkward bow, and was + dimly aware that a small soft hand was extended to him, and, in the next + moment, was enclosed in his own broad and voluminous palm. He grasped it + firmly, and, in one of those profound abstractions into which he was apt + to fall when under the sway of a strong impression, pressed it with + increasing cordiality, while he endeavored to find fitting answers to + Arnfinn’s multifarious questions. + </p> + <p> + “To tell the truth, Vording,” he said, in a deep, full-ringing bass, “I + didn’t know that these were your cousin’s barns—I mean that your + uncle”—giving the unhappy hand an emphatic shake—“inhabited + these barns.” + </p> + <p> + “No, thank heaven, we are not quite reduced to that,” cried Arnfinn, + gayly; “we still boast a parsonage, as you will presently discover, and a + very bright and cozy one, to boot. But, whatever you do, have the goodness + to release Augusta’s hand. Don’t you see how desperately she is + struggling, poor thing?” + </p> + <p> + Strand dropped the hand as if it had been a hot coal, blushed to the edge + of his hair, and made another profound reverence. He was a tall, + huge-limbed youth, with a frame of gigantic mold, and a large, blonde, + shaggy head, like that of some good-natured antediluvian animal, which + might feel the disadvantages of its size amid the puny beings of this + later stage of creation. There was a frank directness in his gaze, and an + unconsciousness of self, which made him very winning, and which could not + fail of its effect upon a girl who, like Augusta, was fond of the + uncommon, and hated smooth, facile and well-tailored young men, with the + labels of society and fashion upon their coats, their mustaches, and their + speech. And Strand, with his large sun-burned face, his wild-growing + beard, blue woolen shirt, top boots, and unkempt appearance generally, was + a sufficiently startling phenomenon to satisfy even so exacting a fancy as + hers; for, after reading his book about the Wading Birds, she had made up + her mind that he must have few points of resemblance to the men who had + hitherto formed part of her own small world, although she had not until + now decided just in what way he was to differ. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose I help you carry your knapsack,” said Arnfinn, who was flitting + about like a small nimble spaniel trying to make friends with some large, + good-natured Newfoundland. “You must be very tired, having roamed about in + this Quixotic fashion!” + </p> + <p> + “No, I thank you,” responded Strand, with an incredulous laugh, glancing + alternately from Arnfinn to the knapsack, as if estimating their + proportionate weight. “I am afraid you would rue your bargain if I + accepted it.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you have a great many stuffed birds at home,” remarked the + girl, looking with self-forgetful admiration at the large brawny figure. + </p> + <p> + “No, I have hardly any,” answered he, seating himself on the ground, and + pulling a thick note-book from his pocket. “I prefer live creatures. Their + anatomical and physiological peculiarities have been studied by others, + and volumes have been written about them. It is their psychological + traits, ii you will allow the expression, which interest me, and those I + can only get at while they are alive.” + </p> + <p> + “How delightful!” + </p> + <p> + Some minutes later they were all on their way to the Parsonage. The sun, + in spite of its mid-summer wakefulness, was getting red-eyed and drowsy, + and the purple mists which hung in scattered fragments upon the forest + below had lost something of their deep-tinged brilliancy. But Augusta, + quite blind to the weakened light effects, looked out upon the broad + landscape in ecstasy, and, appealing to her more apathetic companions, + invited them to share her joy at the beauty of the faint-flushed summer + night. + </p> + <p> + “You are getting quite dithyrambic, my dear,” remarked Arnfinn, with an + air of cousinly superiority, which he felt was eminently becoming to him; + and Augusta looked up with quick surprise, then smiled in an absent way, + and forgot what she had been saying. She had no suspicion but that her + enthusiasm had been all for the sunset. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. + </h2> + <p> + In a life so outwardly barren and monotonous as Augusta’s—a life in + which the small external events were so firmly interwoven with the subtler + threads of yearnings, wants, and desires—the introduction of so + large and novel a fact as Marcus Strand would naturally produce some + perceptible result. It was that deplorable inward restlessness of hers, + she reasoned, which had hitherto made her existence seem so empty and + unsatisfactory; but now his presence filled the hours, and the newness of + his words, his manner, and his whole person afforded inexhaustible + material for thought. It was now a week since his arrival, and while + Arnfinn and Inga chatted at leisure, drew caricatures, or read aloud to + each other in some shady nook of the garden, she and Strand would roam + along the beach, filling the vast unclouded horizon with large glowing + images of the future of the human race. He always listened in sympathetic + silence while she unfolded to him her often childishly daring schemes for + the amelioration of suffering and the righting of social wrongs; and when + she had finished, and he met the earnest appeal of her dark eye, there + would often be a pause, during which each, with a half unconscious lapse + from the impersonal, would feel more keenly the joy of this new and + delicious mental companionship. And when at length he answered, sometimes + gently refuting and sometimes assenting to her proposition, it was always + with a slow, deliberate earnestness, as if he felt but her deep sincerity, + and forgot for the moment her sex, her youth, and her inexperience. It was + just this kind of fellowship for which she had hungered so long, and her + heart went out with a great gratitude toward this strong and generous man, + who was willing to recognize her humanity, and to respond with an + ever-ready frankness, unmixed with petty suspicions and second thoughts, + to the eager needs of her half-starved nature. It is quite characteristic, + too, of the type of womanhood which Augusta represents (and with which + this broad continent of ours abounds), that, with her habitual disregard + of appearances, she would have scorned the notion that their intercourse + had any ultimate end beyond that of mutual pleasure and instruction. + </p> + <p> + It was early in the morning in the third week of Strand’s stay at the + Parsonage. A heavy dew had fallen during the night, and each tiny + grass-blade glistened in the sun, bending under the weight of its liquid + diamond. The birds were improvising a miniature symphony in the birches at + the end of the garden; the song-thrush warbled with a sweet melancholy his + long-drawn contralto notes; the lark, like a prima donna, hovering + conspicuously in mid air, poured forth her joyous soprano solo; and the + robin, quite unmindful of the tempo, filled out the pauses with his + thoughtless staccato chirp. Augusta, who was herself the early bird of the + pastor’s family, had paid a visit to the little bath-house down at the + brook, and was now hurrying homeward, her heavy black hair confined in a + delicate muslin hood, and her lithe form hastily wrapped in a loose + morning gown. She had paused for a moment under the birches to listen to + the song of the lark, when suddenly a low, half articulate sound, very + unlike the voice of a bird, arrested her attention; she raised her eyes, + and saw Strand sitting in the top of a tree, apparently conversing with + himself, or with some tiny thing which he held in his hands. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes, you poor little sickly thing!” she heard him mutter. “Don’t you + make such an ado now. You shall soon be quite well, if you will only mind + what I tell you. Stop, stop! Take it easy. It is all for your own good, + you know. If you had only been prudent, and not stepped on your lame leg, + you might have been spared this affliction. But, after all, it was not + your fault—it was that foolish little mother of yours. She will + remember now that a skein of hemp thread is not the thing to line her nest + with. If she doesn’t, you may tell her that it was I who said so.” + </p> + <p> + Augusta stood gazing on in mute astonishment; then, suddenly remembering + her hasty toilet, she started to run; but, as chance would have it, a dry + branch, which hung rather low, caught at her hood, and her hair fell in a + black wavy stream down over her shoulders. She gave a little cry, the tree + shook violently, and Strand was at her side. She blushed crimson over neck + and face, and, in her utter bewilderment, stood like a culprit before him, + unable to move, unable to speak, and only returning with a silent bow his + cordial greeting. It seemed to her that she had ungenerously intruded upon + his privacy, watching him, while he thought himself unobserved. And + Augusta was quite unskilled in those social accomplishments which enable + young ladies to hide their inward emotions under a show of polite + indifference, for, however hard she strove, she could not suppress a + slight quivering of her lips, and her intense self-reproach made Strand’s + words fall dimly on her ears, and prevented her from gathering the meaning + of what he was saying. He held in his hands a young bird with a yellow + line along the edge of its bill (and there was something beautifully soft + and tender in the way those large palms of his handled any living thing), + and he looked pityingly at it while he spoke. + </p> + <p> + “The mother of this little linnet,” he said, smiling, “did what many + foolish young mothers are apt to do. She took upon her the responsibility + of raising offspring without having acquired the necessary knowledge of + housekeeping. So she lined her nest with hemp, and the consequence was, + that her first-born got his legs entangled, and was obliged to remain in + the nest long after his wings had reached their full development. I saw + her feeding him about a week ago, and, as my curiosity prompted me to look + into the case, I released the little cripple, cleansed the deep wound + which the threads had cut in his flesh, and have since been watching him + during his convalescence. Now he is quite in a fair way, but I had to + apply some salve, and to cut off the feathers about the wound, and the + little fool squirmed under the pain, and grew rebellious. Only notice this + scar, if you please, Miss Oddson, and you may imagine what the poor thing + must have suffered.” + </p> + <p> + Augusta gave a start; she timidly raised her eyes, and saw Strand’s grave + gaze fixed upon her. She felt as if some intolerable spell had come over + her, and, as her agitation increased, her power of speech seemed utterly + to desert her. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you have not been listening to me?” said Strand, in a tone of + wondering inquiry. “Pardon me for presuming to believe that my little + invalid could be as interesting to you as he is to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Strand,” stammered the girl, while the invisible tears came near + choking her voice. “Mr. Strand—I didn’t mean—really—” + </p> + <p> + She knew that if she said another word she should burst into tears. With a + violent effort, she gathered up her wrapper, which somehow had got + unbuttoned at the neck, and, with heedlessly hurrying steps, darted away + toward the house. + </p> + <p> + Strand stood looking after her, quite unmindful of his feathered patient, + which flew chirping about him in the grass. Two hours later Arnfinn found + him sitting under the birches with his hands clasped over the top of his + head, and his surgical instruments scattered on the ground around him. + </p> + <p> + “Corpo di Baccho,” exclaimed the student, stooping to pick up the precious + tools; “have you been amputating your own head, or is it I who am + dreaming?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” murmured Strand, lifting a large, strange gaze upon his friend, “is + it you?” + </p> + <p> + “Who else should it be? I come to call you to breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV. + </h2> + <p> + “I wonder what is up between Strand and Augusta?” said Arnfinn to his + cousin Inga. The questioner was lying in the grass at her feet, resting + his chin on his palms, and gazing with roguishly tender eyes up into her + fresh, blooming face; but Inga, who was reading aloud from “David + Copperfield,” and was deep in the matrimonial tribulations of that noble + hero, only said “hush,” and continued reading. Arnfinn, after a minute’s + silence, repeated his remark, whereupon his fair cousin wrenched his cane + out of his hand, and held it threateningly over his head. + </p> + <p> + “Will you be a good boy and listen?” she exclaimed, playfully emphasizing + each word with a light rap on his curly pate. + </p> + <p> + “Ouch! that hurts,” cried Arnfinn, and dodged. + </p> + <p> + “It was meant to hurt,” replied Inga, with mock severity, and returned to + “Copperfield.” + </p> + <p> + Presently the seed of a corn-flower struck the tip of her nose, and again + the cane was lifted; but Dora’s housekeeping experiences were too + absorbingly interesting, and the blue eyes could not resist their + fascination. + </p> + <p> + “Cousin Inga,” said Arnfinn, and this time with as near an approach to + earnestness as he was capable of at that moment, “I do believe that Strand + is in love with Augusta.” + </p> + <p> + Inga dropped the book, and sent him what was meant to be a glance of + severe rebuke, and then said, in her own amusingly emphatic way: + </p> + <p> + “I do wish you wouldn’t joke with such things, Arnfinn.” + </p> + <p> + “Joke! Indeed I am not joking. I wish to heaven that I were. What a pity + it is that she has taken such a dislike to him!” + </p> + <p> + “Dislike! Oh, you are a profound philosopher, you are! You think that + because she avoids—” + </p> + <p> + Here Inga abruptly clapped her hand over her mouth, and, with sudden + change of voice and expression, said: + </p> + <p> + “I am as silent as the grave.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you are wonderfully discreet,” cried Arnfinn, laughing, while the + girl bit her under lip with an air of penitence and mortification which, + in any other bosom than a cousin’s would have aroused compassion. + </p> + <p> + “Aha! So steht’s!” he broke forth, with another burst of merriment; then, + softened by the sight of a tear that was slowly gathering beneath her + eyelashes, he checked his laughter, crept up to her side, and in a half + childishly coaxing, half caressing tone, he whispered: + </p> + <p> + “Dear little cousin, indeed I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. You are + not angry with me, are you? And if you will only promise me not to tell, I + have something here which I should like to show you.” + </p> + <p> + He well knew that there was nothing which would sooner soothe Inga’s wrath + than confiding a secret to her; and while he was a boy, he had, in cases + of sore need, invented secrets lest his life should be made miserable by + the sense that she was displeased with him. In this instance her anger was + not strong enough to resist the anticipation of a secret, probably + relating to that little drama which had, during the last weeks, been in + progress under her very eyes. With a resolute movement, she brushed her + tears away, bent eagerly forward, and, in the next moment, her face was + all expectancy and animation. + </p> + <p> + Arnfinn pulled a thick black note-book from his breast pocket, opened it + in his lap, and read: + </p> + <p> + “August 3, 5 A. M.—My little invalid is doing finely; he seemed to + relish much a few dozen flies which I brought him in my hand. His pulse is + to-day, for the first time, normal. He is beginning to step on the injured + leg without apparent pain. + </p> + <p> + “10 A. M.—Miss Augusta’s eyes have a strange, lustrous brilliancy + whenever she speaks of subjects which seem to agitate the depths of her + being. How and why is it that an excessive amount of feeling always finds + its first expression in the eye? One kind of emotion seems to widen the + pupil, another kind to contract it. TO be noticed in future, how + particular emotions affect the eye. + </p> + <p> + “6 P. M.—I met a plover on the beach this afternoon. By imitating + his cry, I induced him to come within a few feet of me. The plover, as his + cry indicates, is a very melancholy bird. In fact I believe the melancholy + temperament to be prevailing among the wading birds, as the phlegmatic + among birds of prey. The singing birds are choleric or sanguine. Tease a + thrush, or even a lark, and you will soon be convinced. A snipe, or + plover, as far as my experience goes, seldom shows anger; you cannot tease + them. To be considered, how far the voice of a bird may be indicative of + its temperament. + </p> + <p> + “August 5, 9 P. M.—Since the unfortunate meeting yesterday morning, + when my intense pre-occupation with my linnet, which had torn its wound + open again, probably made me commit some breach of etiquette, Miss Augusta + avoids me. + </p> + <p> + “August 7—I am in a most singular state. My pulse beats 85, which is + a most unheard-of thing for me, as my pulse is naturally full and slow. + And, strangely enough, I do not feel at all unwell. On the contrary, my + physical well-being is rather heightened than otherwise. The life of a + whole week is crowded into a day, and that of a day into an hour.” + </p> + <p> + Inga, who, at several points of this narrative, had been struggling hard + to preserve her gravity, here burst into a ringing laugh. + </p> + <p> + “That is what I call scientific love-making,” said Arnfinn, looking up + from the book with an expression of subdued amusement. + </p> + <p> + “But Arnfinn,” cried the girl, while the laughter quickly died out of her + face, “does Mr. Strand know that you are reading this?” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure he does. And that is just what to my mind makes the situation + so excessively comical. He has himself no suspicion that this book + contains anything but scientific notes. He appears to prefer the empiric + method in love as in philosophy. I verily believe that he is innocently + experimenting with himself, with a view to making some great physiological + discovery.” + </p> + <p> + “And so he will, perhaps,” rejoined the girl, the mixture of gayety and + grave solicitude making her face, as her cousin thought, particularly + charming. + </p> + <p> + “Only not a physiological, but possibly a psychological one,” remarked + Arnfinn. “But listen to this. Here is something rich: + </p> + <p> + “August 9—Miss Augusta once said something about the possibility of + animals being immortal. Her eyes shone with a beautiful animation as she + spoke. I am longing to continue the subject with her. It haunts me the + whole day long. There may be more in the idea than appears to a + superficial observer.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how charmingly he understands how to deceive himself,” cried Inga. + </p> + <p> + “Merely a quid pro quo,” said Arnfinn. + </p> + <p> + “I know what I shall do!” + </p> + <p> + “And so do I.” + </p> + <p> + “Won’t you tell me, please?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I sha’n’t tell you either.” + </p> + <p> + And they flew apart like two thoughtless little birds (“sanguine,” as + Strand would have called them), each to ponder on some formidable plot for + the reconciliation of the estranged lovers. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V. + </h2> + <p> + During the week that ensued, the multifarious sub-currents of Strand’s + passion seemed slowly to gather themselves into one clearly defined + stream, and, after much scientific speculation, he came to the conclusion + that he loved Augusta. In a moment of extreme discouragement, he made a + clean breast of it to Arnfinn, at the same time informing him that he had + packed his knapsack, and would start on his wanderings again the next + morning. All his friend’s entreaties were in vain; he would and must go. + Strand was an exasperatingly headstrong fellow, and persuasions never + prevailed with him. He had confirmed himself in the belief that he was + very unattractive to women, and that Augusta, of all women, for some + reason which was not quite clear to him, hated and abhorred him. + Inexperienced as he was, he could see no reason why she should avoid him, + if she did not hate him. They sat talking until midnight, each entangling + himself in those passionate paradoxes and contradictions peculiar to + passionate and impulsive youth. Strand paced the floor with large steps, + pouring out his long pent-up emotion in violent tirades of self-accusation + and regret; while Arnfinn sat on the bed, trying to soothe his excitement + by assuring him that he was not such a monster as, for the moment, he had + believed himself to be, but only succeeding, in spite of all his efforts, + in pouring oil on the flames. Strand was scientifically convinced that + Nature, in accordance with some inscrutable law of equilibrium, had found + it necessary to make him physically unattractive, perhaps to indemnify + mankind for that excess of intellectual gifts which, at the expense of the + race at large, she had bestowed upon him. + </p> + <p> + Early the next morning, as a kind of etherealized sunshine broke through + the white muslin curtains of Arnfinn’s room, and long streaks of + sun-illumined dust stole through the air toward the sleeper’s pillow, + there was a sharp rap at the door, and Strand entered. His knapsack was + strapped over his shoulders, his long staff was in his hand, and there was + an expression of conscious martyrdom in his features. Arnfinn raised + himself on his elbows, and rubbed his eyes with a desperate determination + to get awake, but only succeeded in gaining a very dim impression of a + beard, a blue woolen shirt, and a disproportionately large shoe buckle. + The figure advanced to the bed, extended a broad, sun-burned hand, and a + deep bass voice was heard to say: + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye, brother.” + </p> + <p> + Arnfinn, who was a hard sleeper, gave another rub, and, in a querulously + sleepy tone, managed to mutter: + </p> + <p> + “Why,—is it as late as that—already?” + </p> + <p> + The words of parting were more remotely repeated, the hand closed about + Arnfinn’s half-unfeeling fingers, the lock on the door gave a little sharp + click, and all was still. But the sunshine drove the dust in a dumb, + confused dance through the room. + </p> + <p> + Some four hours later, Arnfinn woke up with a vague feeling as if some + great calamity had happened; he was not sure but that he had slept a + fortnight or more. He dressed with a sleepy, reckless haste, being but + dimly conscious of the logic of the various processes of ablution which he + underwent. He hurried up to Strand’s room, but, as he had expected, found + it empty. + </p> + <p> + During all the afternoon, the reading of “David Copperfield” was + interrupted by frequent mutual condolences, and at times Inga’s hand would + steal up to her eye to brush away a treacherous tear. But then she only + read the faster, and David and Agnes were already safe in the haven of + matrimony before either she or Arnfinn was aware that they had struggled + successfully through the perilous reefs and quicksands of courtship. + </p> + <p> + Augusta excused herself from supper, Inga’s forced devices at merriment + were too transparent, Arnfinn’s table-talk was of a rambling, incoherent + sort, and he answered dreadfully malapropos, if a chance word was + addressed to him, and even the good-natured pastor began, at last, to + grumble; for the inmates of the Gran Parsonage seemed to have but one life + and one soul in common, and any individual disturbance immediately + disturbed the peace and happiness of the whole household. Now gloom had, + in some unaccountable fashion, obscured the common atmosphere. Inga shook + her small wise head, and tried to extract some little consolation from the + consciousness that she knew at least some things which Arnfinn did not + know, and which it would be very unsafe to confide to him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI. + </h2> + <p> + Four weeks after Strand’s departure, as the summer had already assumed + that tinge of sadness which impresses one as a foreboding of coming death, + Augusta was walking along the beach, watching the flight of the sea-birds. + Her latest “aberration,” as Arnfinn called it, was an extraordinary + interest in the habits of the eider-ducks, auks, and sea-gulls, the noisy + monotony of whose existence had, but a few months ago, appeared to her the + symbol of all that was vulgar and coarse in human and animal life. Now she + had even provided herself with a note-book, and (to use once more the + language of her unbelieving cousin) affected a half-scientific interest in + their clamorous pursuits. She had made many vain attempts to imitate their + voices and to beguile them into closer intimacy, and had found it hard at + times to suppress her indignation when they persisted in viewing her in + the light of an intruder, and in returning her amiable approaches with shy + suspicion, as if they doubted the sincerity of her intentions. + </p> + <p> + She was a little paler now, perhaps, than before, but her eyes had still + the same lustrous depth, and the same sweet serenity was still diffused + over her features, and softened, like a pervading tinge of warm color, the + grand simplicity of her presence. She sat down on a large rock, picked up + a curiously twisted shell, and seeing a plover wading in the surf, gave a + soft, low whistle, which made the bird turn round and gaze at her with + startled distrust. She repeated the call, but perhaps a little too + eagerly, and the bird spread its wings with a frightened cry, and skimmed, + half flying, half running, out over the glittering surface of the fjord. + But from the rocks close by came a long melancholy whistle like that of a + bird in distress, and the girl rose and hastened with eager steps toward + the spot. She climbed up on a stone, fringed all around with green slimy + seaweeds, in order to gain a wider view of the beach. Then suddenly some + huge figure started up between the rocks at her feet; she gave a little + scream, her foot slipped, and in the next moment she lay—in Strand’s + arms. He offered no apology, but silently carried her over the slippery + stones, and deposited her tenderly upon the smooth white sand. There it + occurred to her that his attention was quite needless, but at the moment + she was too startled to make any remonstrance. + </p> + <p> + “But how in the world, Mr. Strand, did you come here?” she managed at last + to stammer. “We all thought that you had gone away.” + </p> + <p> + “I hardly know myself,” said Strand, in a beseeching undertone, quite + different from his usual confident bass. “I only know that—that I + was very wretched, and that I had to come back.” + </p> + <p> + Then there was a pause, which to both seemed quite interminable, and, in + order to fill it out in some way, Strand began to move his head and arms + uneasily, and at length seated himself at Augusta’s side. The blood was + beating with feverish vehemence in her temples, and for the first time in + her life she felt something akin to pity for this large, strong man, whose + strength and cheerful self-reliance had hitherto seemed to raise him above + the need of a woman’s aid and sympathy. Now the very shabbiness of his + appearance, and the look of appealing misery in his features, opened in + her bosom the gate through which compassion could enter, and, with that + generous self-forgetfulness which was the chief factor of her character, + she leaned over toward him, and said: + </p> + <p> + “You must have been very sick, Mr. Strand. Why did you not come to us and + allow us to take care of you, instead of roaming about here in this stony + wilderness?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I have been sick,” cried Strand, with sudden vehemence, seizing her + hand; “but it is a sickness of which I shall never, never be healed.” + </p> + <p> + And with that world-old eloquence which is yet ever new, he poured forth + his passionate confession in her ear, and she listened, hungrily at first, + then with serene, wide-eyed happiness. He told her how, driven by his + inward restlessness, he had wandered about in the mountains, until one + evening at a saeter, he had heard a peasant lad singing a song, in which + this stanza occurred: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “A woman’s frown, a woman’s smile, + Nor hate nor fondness prove; + For maidens smile on him they hate, + And fly from him they love.” + </pre> + <p> + Then it had occurred to him for the first time in his life that a woman’s + behavior need not be the logical indicator of her deepest feelings, and, + enriched with this joyful discovery, inspired with new hope, he had + returned, but had not dared at once to seek the Parsonage, until he could + invent some plausible reason for his return; but his imagination was very + poor, and he had found none, except that he loved the pastor’s beautiful + daughter. + </p> + <p> + The evening wore on. The broad mountain-guarded valley, flooded now to the + brim with a soft misty light, spread out about them, and filled them with + a delicious sense of security. The fjord lifted its grave gaze toward the + sky, and deepened responsively with a bright, ever-receding immensity. The + young girl felt this blessed peace gently stealing over her; doubt and + struggle were all past, and the sun shone ever serene and unobscured upon + the widening expanses of the future. And in his breast, too, that mood + reigned in which life looks boundless and radiant, human woes small or + impossible, and one’s own self large and all-conquering. In that hour they + remodeled this old and obstinate world of ours, never doubting that, if + each united his faith and strength with the other’s, they could together + lift its burden. + </p> + <p> + That night was the happiest and most memorable night in the history of the + Gran Parsonage. The pastor walked up and down on the floor, rubbing his + hands in quiet contentment. Inga, to whom an engagement was essentially a + solemn affair, sat in a corner and gazed at her sister and Strand with + tearful radiance. Arnfinn gave vent to his joy by bestowing embraces + promiscuously upon whomsoever chanced to come in his way. + </p> + <p> + This story, however, has a brief but not unimportant sequel. It was not + many weeks after this happy evening that Arnfinn and the maiden with the + “amusingly unclassical nose” presented themselves in the pastor’s study + and asked for his paternal and unofficial blessing. But the pastor, I am + told, grew very wroth, and demanded that his nephew should first take his + second and third degrees, attaching, besides, some very odious + stipulations regarding average in study and college standing, before there + could be any talk about engagement or matrimony. So, at present, Arnfinn + is still studying, and the fair-haired Inga is still waiting. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0025" id="link2H_4_0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + TRULS, THE NAMELESS. + </h2> + <p> + HE was born in the houseman’s lodge; she in the great mansion. He did not + know who his father was; she was the daughter of Grim of Skogli, and she + was the only daughter he had. They were carried to baptism on the same + day, and he was called Truls, because they had to call him something; she + received the name of Borghild, because that had been the name of every + eldest born daughter in the family for thirty generations. They both cried + when the pastor poured the water on their heads; his mother hushed him, + blushed, and looked timidly around her; but the woman who carried Borghild + lifted her high up in her arms so that everybody could see her, and the + pastor smiled benignly, and the parishioners said that they had never seen + so beautiful a child. That was the way in which they began life—he + as a child of sin, she as the daughter of a mighty race. + </p> + <p> + They grew up together. She had round cheeks and merry eyes, and her lips + were redder than the red rose. He was of slender growth, his face was thin + and pale, and his eyes had a strange, benumbed gaze, as if they were + puzzling themselves with some sad, life-long riddle which they never hoped + to solve. On the strand where they played the billows came and went, and + they murmured faintly with a sound of infinite remoteness. Borghild + laughed aloud, clapped her hands and threw stones out into the water, + while he sat pale and silent, and saw the great white-winged sea-birds + sailing through the blue ocean of the sky. + </p> + <p> + “How would you like to live down there in the deep green water?” she asked + him one day, as they sat watching the eider-ducks which swam and dived, + and stood on their heads among the sea-weeds. + </p> + <p> + “I should like it very well,” he answered, “if you would follow me.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I won’t follow you,” she cried. “It is cold and wet down in the + water. And I should spoil the ribbons on my new bodice. But when I grow up + and get big and can braid my hair, then I shall row with the young lads to + the church yonder on the headland, and there the old pastor will marry me, + and I shall wear the big silver crown which my mother wore when she was + married.” + </p> + <p> + “And may I go with you?” asked he, timidly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you may steer my boat and be my helmsman, or—you may be my + bridegroom, if you would like that better.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I think I should rather be your bridegroom,” and he gave her a long, + strange look which almost frightened her. + </p> + <p> + The years slipped by, and before Borghild knew it, she had grown into + womanhood. The down on Truls’s cheeks became rougher, and he, too, began + to suspect that he was no longer a boy. When the sun was late and the + breeze murmured in the great, dark-crowned pines, they often met by + chance, at the well, on the strand, or on the saeter-green. And the + oftener they met the more they found to talk about; to be sure, it was she + who did the talking, and he looked at her with his large wondering eyes + and listened. She told him of the lamb which had tumbled down over a steep + precipice and still was unhurt, of the baby who pulled the pastor’s hair + last Sunday during the baptismal ceremony, or of the lumberman, Lars, who + drank the kerosene his wife gave him for brandy, and never knew the + difference. But, when the milkmaids passed by, she would suddenly forget + what she had been saying, and then they sat gazing at each other in + silence. Once she told him of the lads who danced with her at the party at + Houg; and she thought she noticed a deeper color on his face, and that he + clinched both his fists and—thrust them into his pockets. That set + her thinking, and the more she thought, the more curious she grew. He + played the violin well; suppose she should ask him to come and fiddle at + the party her father was to give at the end of the harvest. She resolved + to do it, and he, not knowing what moved her, gave his promise eagerly. It + struck her, afterward, that she had done a wicked thing, but, like most + girls, she had not the heart to wrestle with an uncomfortable thought; she + shook it off and began to hum a snatch of an old song. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “O’er the billows the fleet-footed storm-wind rode, + The billows blue are the merman’s abode, + So strangely that harp was sounding.” + </pre> + <p> + The memory of old times came back to her, the memory of the morning long + years ago, when they sat together on the strand, and he said; “I think I + would rather be your bridegroom, Borghild.” The memory was sweet but it + was bitter too; and the bitterness rose and filled her heart. She threw + her head back proudly, and laughed a strange, hollow laugh. “A bastard’s + bride, ha, ha! A fine tale were that for the parish gossips.” A yellow + butterfly lighted on her arm, and with a fierce frown on her face she + caught it between her fingers. Then she looked pityingly on the dead + wings, as they lay in her hand, and murmured between her teeth: “Poor + thing! Why did you come in my way, unbidden?” + </p> + <p> + The harvest was rich, and the harvest party was to keep pace with the + harvest. The broad Skogli mansion was festively lighted (for it was + already late in September); the tall, straight tallow candles, stuck in + many-armed candlesticks, shone dimly through a sort of misty halo, and + only suffused the dusk with a faint glimmering of light. And every time a + guest entered, the flames of the candles flickered and twisted themselves + with the wind, struggling to keep erect. And Borghild’s courage, too, rose + and fell with the flickering motion of a flame which wrestles with the + wind. Whenever the latch clicked she lifted her eyes and looked for Truls, + and one moment she wished that she might never see his face again, and in + the next she sent an eager glance toward the door. Presently he came, + threw his fiddle on a bench, and with a reckless air walked up to her and + held out his hand. She hesitated to return his greeting, but when she saw + the deep lines of suffering in his face, her heart went forward with a + great tenderness toward him, a tenderness such as one feels for a child + who is sick, and suffers without hope of healing. She laid her hand in + his, and there it lay for a while listlessly; for neither dared trust the + joy which the sight of the other enkindled. But when she tried to draw her + hand away, he caught it quickly, and with a sudden fervor of voice he + said: + </p> + <p> + “The sight of you, Borghild, stills the hunger which is raging in my soul. + Beware that you do not play with a life, Borghild, even though it be a + worthless one.” + </p> + <p> + There was something so hopelessly sad in his words, that they stung her to + the quick. They laid bare a hidden deep in her heart, and she shrank back + st the sight of her own vileness. How could she repair the injury she had + done him? How could she heal the wound she had inflicted? A number of + guests came up to greet her and among them Syvert Stein, a bold-looking + young man, who, during that summer, had led her frequently in the dance. + He had a square face, strong features, and a huge crop of towy hair. His + race was far-famed for wit and daring. + </p> + <p> + “Tardy is your welcome, Borghild of Skogli,” quoth he. “But what a faint + heart does not give a bold hand can grasp, and what I am not offered I + take unbidden.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, he flung his arm about her waist, lifted her from the floor and + put her down in the middle of the room. Truls stood and gazed at them with + large, bewildered eyes. He tried hard to despise the braggart, but ended + with envying him. + </p> + <p> + “Ha, fiddler, strike up a tune that shall ring through marrow and bone,” + shouted Syvert Stein, who struck the floor with his heels and moved his + body to the measure of a spring-dance. + </p> + <p> + Truls still followed them with his eyes; suddenly he leaped up, and a wild + thought burned in his breast. But with an effort he checked himself, + grasped his violin, and struck a wailing chord of lament. Then he laid his + ear close to the instrument, as if he were listening to some living voice + hidden there within, ran warily with the bow over the strings, and + warbled, and caroled, and sang with maddening glee, and still with a + shivering undercurrent of woe. And the dusk which slept upon the black + rafters was quickened and shook with the weird sound; every pulse in the + wide hall beat more rapidly, and every eye kindled with a bolder fire. + Pressently{sic} a Strong male voice sang out to the measure of the violin: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Come, fairest maid, tread the dance with me; + O heigh ho!” + + And a clear, tremulous treble answered: + + “So gladly tread I the dance with thee; + O heigh ho!” + </pre> + <p> + Truls knew the voices only too well; it was Syvert Stein and Borghild who + were singing a stave. <a href="#linknote-8" name="linknoteref-8" + id="linknoteref-8"><small>8</small></a> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Syvert—Like brier-roses thy red cheeks blush, + Borghild—And thine are rough like the thorny bush; + Both—An’ a heigho! + + Syvert—So fresh and green is the sunny lea; + O heigh ho! + Borghild—The fiddle twangeth so merrily; + O heigh ho! + Syvert—So lightly goeth the lusty reel, + Borghild—And round we whirl like a spinning-wheel; + Both—An’ a heigho! + + Syvert—Thine eyes are bright like the sunny fjord; + O heigh ho! + Borghild—And thine do flash like a Viking’s sword; + O heigh ho! + Syvert—So lightly trippeth thy foot along, + Borghild—The air is teeming with joyful song; + Both—An’ a heigh ho! + + Syvert—Then fairest maid, while the woods are green, + O heigh ho! + Borghild—And thrushes sing the fresh leaves between; + O heigh ho! + Syvert—Come, let us dance in the gladsome day, + Borghild—Dance hate, and sorrow, and care away; + Both—An’ a heigh ho! +</pre> + <p> + The stave was at an end. The hot and flushed dancers straggled over the + floor by twos and threes, and the big beer-horns were passed from hand to + hand. Truls sat in his corner hugging his violin tightly to his bosom, + only to do something, for he was vaguely afraid of himself—afraid of + the thoughts that might rise—afraid of the deed they might prompt. + He ran his fingers over his forehead, but he hardly felt the touch of his + own hand. It was as if something was dead within him—as if a string + had snapped in his breast, and left it benumbed and voiceless. + </p> + <p> + Presently he looked up and saw Borghild standing before him; she held her + arms akimbo, her eyes shone with a strange light, and her features wore an + air of recklessness mingled with pity. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Borghild, is it you?” said he, in a hoarse voice. “What do you want + with me? I thought you had done with me now.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a very unwitty fellow,” answered she, with a forced laugh. “The + branch that does not bend must break.” + </p> + <p> + She turned quickly on her heel and was lost in the crowd. He sat long + pondering on her words, but their meaning remained hidden to him. The + branch that does not bend must break. Was he the branch, and must he bend + or break? By-and-by he put his hands on his knees, rose with a slow, + uncertain motion, and stalked heavily toward the door. The fresh night air + would do him good. The thought breathes more briskly in God’s free nature, + under the broad canopy of heaven. The white mist rose from the fields, and + made the valley below appear like a white sea whose nearness you feel, + even though you do not see it. And out of the mist the dark pines + stretched their warning hands against the sky, and the moon was swimming, + large and placid, between silvery islands of cloud. Truls began to beat + his arms against his sides, and felt the warm blood spreading from his + heart and thawing the numbness of his limbs. Not caring whither he went, + he struck the path leading upward to the mountains. He took to humming an + old air which happened to come into his head, only to try if there was + life enough left in him to sing. It was the ballad of Young Kirsten and + the Merman: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “The billows fall and the billows swell, + In the night so lone, + In the billows blue doth the merman dwell, + And strangely that harp was sounding.” + </pre> + <p> + He walked on briskly for a while, and, looking back upon the pain he had + endured but a moment ago, he found it quite foolish and irrational. An + absurd merriment took possession of him; but all the while he did not know + where his foot stepped; his head swam, and his pulse beat feverishly. + About midway between the forest and the mansion, where the field sloped + more steeply, grew a clump of birch-trees, whose slender stems glimmered + ghostly white in the moonlight. Something drove Truls to leave the beaten + road, and, obeying the impulse, he steered toward the birches. A strange + sound fell upon his ear, like the moan of one in distress. It did not + startle him; indeed, he was in a mood when nothing could have caused him + wonder. If the sky had suddenly tumbled down upon him, with moon and all, + he would have taken it as a matter of course. Peering for a moment through + the mist, he discerned the outline of a human figure. With three great + strides he reached the birch-tree; at his feet sat Borghild rocking + herself to and fro and weeping piteously. Without a word he seated himself + at her side and tried to catch a glimpse of her face; but she hid it from + him and went on sobbing. Still there could be no doubt that it was + Borghild—one hour ago so merry, reckless, and defiant, now cowering + at his feet and weeping like a broken-hearted child. + </p> + <p> + “Borghild,” he said, at last, putting his arm gently about her waist, “you + and I, I think, played together when we were children.” + </p> + <p> + “So we did, Truls,” answered she, struggling with her tears. + </p> + <p> + “And as we grew up, we spent many a pleasant hour with each other.” + </p> + <p> + “Many a pleasant hour.” + </p> + <p> + She raised her head, and he drew her more closely to him. + </p> + <p> + “But since then I have done you a great wrong,” began she, after a while. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing done that cannot yet be undone,” he took heart to answer. + </p> + <p> + It was long before her thoughts took shape, and, when at length they did, + she dared not give them utterance. Nevertheless, she was all the time + conscious of one strong desire, from which her conscience shrank as from a + crime; and she wrestled ineffectually with her weakness until her weakness + prevailed. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad you came,” she faltered. “I knew you would come. There was + something I wished to say to you.” + </p> + <p> + “And what was it, Borghild?” + </p> + <p> + “I wanted to ask you to forgive me—” + </p> + <p> + “Forgive you—” + </p> + <p> + He sprang up as if something had stung him. + </p> + <p> + “And why not?” she pleaded, piteously. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, girl, you know not what you ask,” cried he, with a sternness which + startled her. “If I had more than one life to waste—but you caress + with one hand and stab with the other. Fare thee well, Borghild, for here + our paths separate.” + </p> + <p> + He turned his back upon her and began to descend the slope. + </p> + <p> + “For God’s sake, stay, Truls,” implored she, and stretched her arms + appealingly toward him; “tell me, oh, tell me all.” + </p> + <p> + With a leap he was again at her side, stooped down over her, and, in a + hoarse, passionate whisper, spoke the secret of his life in her ear. She + gazed for a moment steadily into his face, then, in a few hurried words, + she pledged him her love, her faith, her all. And in the stillness of that + summer night they planned together their flight to a greater and freer + land, where no world-old prejudice frowned upon the union of two kindred + souls. They would wait in patience and silence until spring; then come the + fresh winds from the ocean, and, with them, the birds of passage which + awake the longings in the Norsemen’s breasts, and the American vessels + which give courage to many a sinking spirit, strength to the wearied arm, + hope to the hopeless heart. + </p> + <p> + During that winter Truls and Borghild seldom saw each other. The parish + was filled with rumors, and after the Christmas holiday it was told for + certain that the proud maiden of Skogli had been promised in marriage to + Syvert Stein. It was the general belief that the families had made the + match, and that Borghild, at least, had hardly had any voice in the + matter. Another report was that she had flatly refused to listen to any + proposal from that quarter, and that, when she found that resistance was + vain, she had cried three days and three nights, and refused to take any + food. When this rumor reached the pastor’s ear, he pronounced it an idle + tale; “for,” said he, “Borghild has always been a proper and well-behaved + maiden, and she knows that she must honor father and mother, that it may + be well with her, and she live long upon the land.” + </p> + <p> + But Borghild sat alone in her gable window and looked longingly toward the + ocean. The glaciers glittered, the rivers swelled, the buds of the forest + burst, and great white sails began to glimmer on the far western horizon. + </p> + <p> + If Truls, the Nameless, as scoffers were wont to call him, had been a + greater personage in the valley, it would, no doubt, have shocked the + gossips to know that one fine morning he sold his cow, his gun and his + dog, and wrapped sixty silver dollars in a leathern bag, which he sewed + fast to the girdle he wore about his waist. That same night some one was + heard playing wildly up in the birch copse above the Skogli mansion; now + it sounded like a wail of distress, then like a fierce, defiant laugh, and + now again the music seemed to hush itself into a heart-broken, sorrowful + moan, and the people crossed themselves, and whispered: “Our Father;” but + Borghild sat at her gable window and listened long to the weird strain. + The midnight came, but she stirred not. With the hour of midnight the + music ceased. From the windows of hall and kitchen the light streamed out + into the damp air, and the darkness stood like a wall on either side; + within, maids and lads were busy brewing, baking, and washing, for in a + week there was to be a wedding on the farm. + </p> + <p> + The week went and the wedding came. Truls had not closed his eyes all that + night, and before daybreak he sauntered down along the beach and gazed out + upon the calm fjord, where the white-winged sea-birds whirled in great + airy surges around the bare crags. Far up above the noisy throng an ospray + sailed on the blue expanse of the sky, and quick as thought swooped down + upon a halibut which had ventured to take a peep at the rising sun. The + huge fish struggled for a moment at the water’s edge, then, with a + powerful stroke of its tail, which sent the spray hissing through the air, + dived below the surface. The bird of prey gave a loud scream, flapped + fiercely with its broad wings, and for several minutes a thickening cloud + of applauding ducks and seagulls and showers of spray hid the combat from + the observer’s eye. When the birds scattered, the ospray had vanished, and + the waters again glittered calmly in the morning sun. Truls stood long, + vacantly staring out upon the scene of the conflict, and many strange + thoughts whirled through his head. + </p> + <p> + “Halloo, fiddler!” cried a couple of lads who had come to clear the + wedding boats, “you are early on foot to-day. Here is a scoop. Come on and + help us bail the boats.” + </p> + <p> + Truls took the scoop, and looked at it as if he had never seen such a + thing before; he moved about heavily, hardly knowing what he did, but + conscious all the while of his own great misery. His limbs seemed half + frozen, and a dull pain gathered about his head and in his breast—in + fact, everywhere and nowhere. + </p> + <p> + About ten o’clock the bridal procession descended the slope to the fjord. + Syvert Stein, the bridegroom, trod the earth with a firm, springy step, + and spoke many a cheery word to the bride, who walked, silent and with + downcast eyes, at his side. She wore the ancestral bridal crown on her + head, and the little silver disks around its edge tinkled and shook as she + walked. They hailed her with firing of guns and loud hurrahs as she + stepped into the boat; still she did not raise her eyes, but remained + silent. A small cannon, also an heir-loom in the family, was placed + amidships, and Truls, with his violin, took his seat in the prow. A large + solitary cloud, gold-rimmed but with thunder in its breast, sailed across + the sky and threw its shadow over the bridal boat as it was pushed out + from the shore, and the shadow fell upon the bride’s countenance too; and + when she lifted it, the mother of the bridegroom, who sat opposite her, + shrank back, for the countenance looked hard, as if carved in stone—in + the eyes a mute, hopeless appeal; on the lips a frozen prayer. The shadow + of thunder upon a life that was opening—it was an ill omen, and its + gloom sank into the hearts of the wedding guests. They spoke in undertones + and threw pitying glances at the bride. Then at length Syvert Stein lost + his patience. + </p> + <p> + “In sooth,” cried he, springing up from his seat, “where is to-day the + cheer that is wont to abide in the Norseman’s breast? Methinks I see but + sullen airs and ill-boding glances. Ha, fiddler, now move your strings + lustily! None of your funeral airs, my lad, but a merry tune that shall + sing through marrow and bone, and make the heart leap in the bosom.” + </p> + <p> + Truls heard the words, and in a slow, mechanical way he took the violin + out of its case and raised it to his chin. Syvert in the mean while put a + huge silver beer-jug to his mouth, and, pledging his guests, emptied it + even to the dregs. But the bride’s cheek was pale; and it was so still in + the boat that every man could hear his own breathing. + </p> + <p> + “Ha, to-day is Syvert Stein’s wedding-day!” shouted the bridegroom, + growing hot with wrath. “Let us try if the iron voice of the cannon can + wake my guests from their slumber.” + </p> + <p> + He struck a match and put it to the touch-hole of the cannon; a long boom + rolled away over the surface of the waters and startled the echoes of the + distant glaciers. A faint hurrah sounded from the nearest craft, but there + came no response from the bridal boat. Syvert pulled the powder-horn from + his pocket, laughed a wild laugh, and poured the whole contents of the + horn into the mouth of the cannon. + </p> + <p> + “Now may the devil care for his own,” roared he, and sprang up upon the + row-bench. Then there came a low murmuring strain as of wavelets that + ripple against a sandy shore. Borghild lifted her eyes, and they met those + of the fiddler. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I think I should rather be your bridegroom,” whispered she, and a ray + of life stole into her stony visage. + </p> + <p> + And she saw herself as a little rosy-cheeked girl sitting at his side on + the beach fifteen years ago. But the music gathered strength from her + glance, and onward it rushed through the noisy years of boyhood, shouting + with wanton voice in the lonely glen, lowing with the cattle on the + mountain pastures, and leaping like the trout at eventide in the brawling + rapids; but through it all there ran a warm strain of boyish loyalty and + strong devotion, and it thawed her frozen heart; for she knew that it was + all for her and for her only. And it seemed such a beautiful thing, this + long faithful life, which through sorrow and joy, through sunshine and + gloom, for better for worse, had clung so fast to her. The wedding guests + raised their heads, and a murmur of applause ran over the waters. + </p> + <p> + “Bravo!” cried the bridegroom. “Now at last the tongues are loosed.” + </p> + <p> + Truls’s gaze dwelt with tender sadness on the bride. Then came from the + strings some airy quivering chords, faintly flushed like the petals of the + rose, and fragrant like lilies of the valley; and they swelled with a + strong, awakening life, and rose with a stormy fullness until they seemed + on the point of bursting, when again they hushed themselves and sank into + a low, disconsolate whisper. Once more the tones stretched out their arms + imploringly, and again they wrestled despairingly with themselves, fled + with a stern voice of warning, returned once more, wept, shuddered, and + were silent. + </p> + <p> + “Beware that thou dost not play with a life!” sighed the bride, “even + though it be a worthless one.” + </p> + <p> + The wedding guests clapped their hands and shouted wildly against the sky. + The bride’s countenance burned with a strange feverish glow. The fiddler + arose in the prow of the boat, his eyes flamed, he struck the strings + madly, and the air trembled with melodious rapture. The voice of that + music no living tongue can interpret. But the bride fathomed its meaning; + her bosom labored vehemently, her lips quivered for an instant + convulsively, and she burst into tears. A dark suspicion shot through the + bridegroom’s mind. He stared intently upon the weeping Borghild then + turned his gaze to the fiddler, who, still regarding her, stood playing, + with a half-frenzied look and motion. + </p> + <p> + “You cursed wretch!” shrieked Syvert, and made a leap over two benches to + where Truls was standing. It came so unexpectedly that Truls had no time + to prepare for defense; so he merely stretched out the hand in which he + held the violin to ward off the blow which he saw was coming; but Syvert + tore the instrument from his grasp and dashed it against the cannon, and, + as it happened, just against the touch-hole. With a tremendous crash + something black darted through the air and a white smoke brooded over the + bridal boat. The bridegroom stood pale and stunned. At his feet lay + Borghild—lay for a moment still, as if lifeless, then rose on her + elbows, and a dark red current broke from her breast. The smoke scattered. + No one saw how it was done; but a moment later Truls, the Nameless, lay + kneeling at Borghild’s side. + </p> + <p> + “It WAS a worthless life, beloved,” whispered he, tenderly. “Now it is at + an end.” + </p> + <p> + And he lifted her up in his arms as one lifts a beloved child, pressed a + kiss on her pale lips, and leaped into the water. Like lead they fell into + the sea. A throng of white bubbles whirled up to the surface. A loud wail + rose from the bridal fleet, and before the day was at an end it filled the + valley; but the wail did not recall Truls, the Nameless, or Borghild his + bride. + </p> + <p> + What life denied them, would to God that death may yield them! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0026" id="link2H_4_0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ASATHOR’S VENGEANCE. + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0027" id="link2H_4_0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. + </h2> + <p> + IT was right up under the steel mountain wall where the farm of Kvaerk + lay. How any man of common sense could have hit upon the idea of building + a house there, where none but the goat and the hawk had easy access, had + been, and I am afraid would ever be, a matter of wonder to the parish + people. However, it was not Lage Kvaerk who had built the house, so he + could hardly be made responsible for its situation. Moreover, to move from + a place where one’s life has once struck deep root, even if it be in the + chinks and crevices of stones and rocks, is about the same as to destroy + it. An old tree grows but poorly in a new soil. So Lage Kvaerk thought, + and so he said, too, whenever his wife Elsie spoke of her sunny home at + the river. + </p> + <p> + Gloomy as Lage usually was, he had his brighter moments, and people + noticed that these were most likely to occur when Aasa, his daughter, was + near. Lage was probably also the only being whom Aasa’s presence could + cheer; on other people it seemed to have the very opposite effect; for + Aasa was—according to the testimony of those who knew her—the + most peculiar creature that ever was born. But perhaps no one did know + her; if her father was right, no one really did—at least no one but + himself. + </p> + <p> + Aasa was all to her father; she was his past and she was his future, his + hope and his life; and withal it must be admitted that those who judged + her without knowing her had at least in one respect as just an opinion of + her as he; for there was no denying that she was strange, very strange. + She spoke when she ought to be silent, and was silent when it was proper + to speak; wept when she ought to laugh, and laughed when it was proper to + weep; but her laughter as well as her tears, her speech like her silence, + seemed to have their source from within her own soul, to be occasioned, as + it were, by something which no one else could see or hear. It made little + difference where she was; if the tears came, she yielded to them as if + they were something she had long desired in vain. Few could weep like her, + and “weep like Aasa Kvaerk,” was soon also added to the stock of parish + proverbs. And then her laugh! Tears may be inopportune enough, when they + come out of time, but laughter is far worse; and when poor Aasa once burst + out into a ringing laughter in church, and that while the minister was + pronouncing the benediction, it was only with the greatest difficulty that + her father could prevent the indignant congregation from seizing her and + carrying her before the sheriff for violation of the church-peace. Had she + been poor and homely, then of course nothing could have saved her; but she + happened to be both rich and beautiful, and to wealth and beauty much is + pardoned. Aasa’s beauty, however, was also of a very unusual kind; not the + tame sweetness so common in her sex, but something of the beauty of the + falcon, when it swoops down upon the unwatchful sparrow or soars round the + lonely crags; something of the mystic depth of the dark tarn, when with + bodeful trembling you gaze down into it, and see its weird traditions rise + from its depth and hover over the pine-tops in the morning fog. Yet, Aasa + was not dark; her hair was as fair and yellow as a wheat-field in August, + her forehead high and clear, and her mouth and chin as if cut with a + chisel; only her eyes were perhaps somewhat deeper than is common in the + North, and the longer you looked at them the deeper they grew, just like + the tarn, which, if you stare long enough into it, you will find is as + deep as the heavens above, that is, whose depth only faith and fancy can + fathom. But however long you looked at Aasa, you could never be quite sure + that she looked at you; she seemed but to half notice whatever went on + around her; the look of her eye was always more than half inward, and when + it shone the brightest, it might well happen that she could not have told + you how many years she had lived, or the name her father gave her in + baptism. + </p> + <p> + Now Aasa was eighteen years old, and could knit, weave, and spin, and it + was full time that wooers should come. “But that is the consequence of + living in such an out-of-the-way place,” said her mother; “who will risk + his limbs to climb that neck-breaking rock? and the round-about way over + the forest is rather too long for a wooer.” Besides handling the loom and + the spinning-wheel, Aasa had also learned to churn and make cheese to + perfection, and whenever Elsie grieved at her strange behavior she always + in the end consoled herself with the reflection that after all Aasa would + make the man who should get her an excellent housewife. + </p> + <p> + The farm of Kvaerk was indeed most singularly situated. About a hundred + feet from the house the rough wall of the mountain rose steep and + threatening; and the most remarkable part of it was that the rock itself + caved inward and formed a lofty arch overhead, which looked like a huge + door leading into the mountain. Some short distance below, the slope of + the fields ended in an abrupt precipice; far underneath lay the other + farm-houses of the valley, scattered like small red or gray dots, and the + river wound onward like a white silver stripe in the shelter of the dusky + forest. There was a path down along the rock, which a goat or a brisk lad + might be induced to climb, if the prize of the experiment were great + enough to justify the hazard. The common road to Kvaerk made a large + circuit around the forest, and reached the valley far up at its northern + end. + </p> + <p> + It was difficult to get anything to grow at Kvaerk. In the spring all the + valley lay bare and green, before the snow had begun to think of melting + up there; and the night-frost would be sure to make a visit there, while + the fields along the river lay silently drinking the summer dew. On such + occasions the whole family at Kvaerk would have to stay up during all the + night and walk back and forth on either side of the wheat-fields, carrying + a long rope between them and dragging it slowly over the heads of the rye, + to prevent the frost from settling; for as long as the ears could be kept + in motion, they could not freeze. But what did thrive at Kvaerk in spite + of both snow and night-frost was legends, and they throve perhaps the + better for the very sterility of its material soil. Aasa of course had + heard them all and knew them by heart; they had been her friends from + childhood, and her only companions. All the servants, however, also knew + them and many others besides, and if they were asked how the mansion of + Kvaerk happened to be built like an eagle’s nest on the brink of a + precipice, they would tell you the following: + </p> + <p> + Saint Olaf, Norway’s holy king, in the time of his youth had sailed as a + Viking over the wide ocean, and in foreign lands had learned the doctrine + of Christ the White. When he came home to claim the throne of his + hereditary kingdom, he brought with him tapers and black priests, and + commanded the people to overthrow the altars of Odin and Thor and to + believe alone in Christ the White. If any still dared to slaughter a horse + to the old gods, he cut off their ears, burned their farms, and drove them + houseless from the smoking ruins. Here in the valley old Thor, or, as they + called him, Asathor, had always helped us to vengeance and victory, and + gentle Frey for many years had given us fair and fertile summers. + Therefore the peasants paid little heed to King Olaf’s god, and continued + to bring their offerings to Odin and Asathor. This reached the king’s ear, + and he summoned his bishop and five black priests, and set out to visit + our valley. Having arrived here, he called the peasants together, stood up + on the Ting-stone, told them of the great things that the White Christ had + done, and bade them choose between him and the old gods. Some were scared, + and received baptism from the king’s priests; others bit their lips and + were silent; others again stood forth and told Saint Olaf that Odin and + Asathor had always served them well, and that they were not going to give + them up for Christ the White, whom they had never seen and of whom they + knew nothing. The next night the red cock crew <a href="#linknote-9" + name="linknoteref-9" id="linknoteref-9"><small>9</small></a> over ten + farms in the valley, and it happened to be theirs who had spoken against + King Olaf’s god. Then the peasants flocked to the Ting-stone and received + the baptism of Christ the White. Some few, who had mighty kinsmen in the + North, fled and spread the evil tidings. Only one neither fled nor was + baptized, and that one was Lage Ulfson Kvaerk, the ancestor of the present + Lage. He slew his best steed before Asathor’s altar, and promised to give + him whatever he should ask, even to his own life, if he would save him + from the vengeance of the king. Asathor heard his prayer. As the sun set, + a storm sprung up with thick darkness and gloom, the earth shook, Asathor + drove his chariot over the heavens with deafening thunder and swung his + hammer right and left, and the crackling lightning flew through the air + like a hail-storm of fire. Then the peasants trembled, for they knew that + Asathor was wroth. Only the king sat calm and fearless with his bishop and + priests, quaffing the nut-brown mead. The tempest raged until morn. When + the sun rose, Saint Olaf called his hundred swains, sprang into the saddle + and rode down toward the river. Few men who saw the angry fire in his eye, + and the frown on his royal brow, doubted whither he was bound. But having + reached the ford, a wondrous sight met his eye. Where on the day before + the highway had wound itself up the slope toward Lage Kvaerk’s mansion, + lay now a wild ravine; the rock was shattered into a thousand pieces, and + a deep gorge, as if made by a single stroke of a huge hammer, separated + the king from his enemy. Then Saint Olaf made the sign of the cross, and + mumbled the name of Christ the White; but his hundred swains made the sign + of the hammer under their cloaks, and thought, Still is Asathor alive. + </p> + <p> + That same night Lage Ulfson Kvaerk slew a black ram, and thanked Asathor + for his deliverance; and the Saga tells that while he was sprinkling the + blood on the altar, the thundering god himself appeared to him, and wilder + he looked than the fiercest wild Turk. Rams, said he, were every-day fare; + they could redeem no promise. Brynhild, his daughter, was the reward + Asathor demanded. Lage prayed and besought him to ask for something else. + He would gladly give him one of his sons; for he had three sons, but only + one daughter. Asathor was immovable; but so long Lage continued to beg, + that at last he consented to come back in a year, when Lage perchance + would be better reconciled to the thought of Brynhild’s loss. + </p> + <p> + In the mean time King Olaf built a church to Christ the White on the + headland at the river, where it stands until this day. Every evening, when + the huge bell rumbled between the mountains, the parishioners thought they + heard heavy, half-choked sighs over in the rocks at Kvaerk; and on Sunday + mornings, when the clear-voiced chimes called them to high-mass, a + suppressed moan would mingle with the sound of the bells, and die away + with the last echo. Lage Ulfson was not the man to be afraid; yet the + church-bells many a time drove the blood from his cheeks; for he also + heard the moan from the mountain. + </p> + <p> + The year went, and Asathor returned. If he had not told his name, however, + Lage would not have recognized him. That a year could work so great a + change in a god, he would hardly have believed, if his own eyes had not + testified to it. Asathor’s cheeks were pale and bloodless, the lustre of + his eye more than half quenched, and his gray hair hung in disorder down + over his forehead. + </p> + <p> + “Methinks thou lookest rather poorly to-day,” said Lage. + </p> + <p> + “It is only those cursed church-bells,” answered the god; “they leave me + no rest day or night.” + </p> + <p> + “Aha,” thought Lage, “if the king’s bells are mightier than thou, then + there is still hope of safety for my daughter.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is Brynhild, thy daughter?” asked Asathor. + </p> + <p> + “I know not where she is,” answered the father; and straightway he turned + his eyes toward the golden cross that shone over the valley from Saint + Olaf’s steeple, and he called aloud on the White Christ’s name. Then the + god gave a fearful roar, fell on the ground, writhed and foamed and + vanished into the mountain. In the next moment Lage heard a hoarse voice + crying from within, “I shall return, Lage Ulfson, when thou shalt least + expect me!” + </p> + <p> + Lage Ulfson then set to work clearing a way through the forest; and when + that was done, he called all his household together, and told them of the + power of Christ the White. Not long after he took his sons and his + daughter, and hastened with them southward, until he found King Olaf. And, + so the Saga relates, they all fell down on their knees before him, prayed + for his forgiveness, and received baptism from the king’s own bishop. + </p> + <p> + So ends the Saga of Lage Ulfson Kvaerk. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0028" id="link2H_4_0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. + </h2> + <p> + Aasa Kvaerk loved her father well, but especially in the winter. Then, + while she sat turning her spinning-wheel in the light of the crackling + logs, his silent presence always had a wonderfully soothing and calming + effect upon her. She never laughed then, and seldom wept; when she felt + his eyes resting on her, her thoughts, her senses, and her whole being + seemed by degrees to be lured from their hiding-place and concentrate on + him; and from him they ventured again, first timidly, then more boldly, to + grasp the objects around him. At such times Aasa could talk and jest + almost like other girls, and her mother, to whom “other girls” represented + the ideal of womanly perfection, would send significant glances, full of + hope and encouragement, over to Lage, and he would quietly nod in return, + as if to say that he entirely agreed with her. Then Elsie had bright + visions of wooers and thrifty housewives, and even Lage dreamed of seeing + the ancient honor of the family re-established. All depended on Aasa. She + was the last of the mighty race. But when summer came, the bright visions + fled; and the spring winds, which to others bring life and joy, to Kvaerk + brought nothing but sorrow. No sooner had the mountain brooks begun to + swell, than Aasa began to laugh and to weep; and when the first birches + budded up in the glens, she could no longer be kept at home. Prayers and + threats were equally useless. From early dawn until evening she would roam + about in forests and fields, and when late at night she stole into the + room and slipped away into some corner, Lage drew a deep sigh and thought + of the old tradition. + </p> + <p> + Aasa was nineteen years old before she had a single wooer. But when she + was least expecting it, the wooer came to her. + </p> + <p> + It was late one summer night; the young maiden was sitting on the brink of + the ravine, pondering on the old legend and peering down into the deep + below. It was not the first time she had found her way hither, where but + seldom a human foot had dared to tread. To her every alder and + bramble-bush, that clothed the naked wall of the rock, were as familiar as + were the knots and veins in the ceiling of the chamber where from her + childhood she had slept; and as she sat there on the brink of the + precipice, the late summer sun threw its red lustre upon her and upon the + fogs that came drifting up from the deep. With her eyes she followed the + drifting masses of fog, and wondered, as they rose higher and higher, when + they would reach her; in her fancy she saw herself dancing over the wide + expanse of heaven, clad in the sun-gilded evening fogs; and Saint Olaf, + the great and holy king, came riding to meet her, mounted on a flaming + steed made of the glory of a thousand sunsets; then Saint Olaf took her + hand and lifted her up, and she sat with him on the flaming steed: but the + fog lingered in the deep below, and as it rose it spread like a thin, + half-invisible gauze over the forests and the fields, and at last vanished + into the infinite space. But hark! a huge stone rolls down over the + mountain-side, then another, and another; the noise grows, the birches + down there in the gorge tremble and shake. Aasa leaned out over the brink + of the ravine, and, as far as she could distinguish anything from her + dizzying height, thought she saw something gray creeping slowly up the + neck-breaking mountain path; she watched it for a while, but as it seemed + to advance no farther she again took refuge in her reveries. An hour might + have passed, or perhaps more, when suddenly she heard a noise only a few + feet distant, and, again stooping out over the brink, saw the figure of a + man struggling desperately to climb the last great ledge of the rock. With + both his hands he clung to a little birch-tree which stretched its slender + arms down over the black wall, but with every moment that passed seemed + less likely to accomplish the feat. The girl for a while stood watching + him with unfeigned curiosity, then, suddenly reminding herself that the + situation to him must be a dangerous one, seized hold of a tree that grew + near the brink, and leaned out over the rock to give him her assistance. + He eagerly grasped her extended hand, and with a vigorous pull she flung + him up on the grassy level, where he remained lying for a minute or two, + apparently utterly unable to account for his sudden ascent, and gazing + around him with a half-frightened, half-bewildered look. Aasa, to whom his + appearance was no less strange than his demeanor, unluckily hit upon the + idea that perhaps her rather violent treatment had momentarily stunned + him, and when, as answer to her sympathizing question if he was hurt, the + stranger abruptly rose to his feet and towered up before her to the + formidable height of six feet four or five, she could no longer master her + mirth, but burst out into a most vehement fit of laughter. He stood calm + and silent, and looked at her with a timid but strangely bitter smile. He + was so very different from any man she had ever seen before; therefore she + laughed, not necessarily because he amused her, but because his whole + person was a surprise to her; and there he stood, tall and gaunt and + timid, and said not a word, only gazed and gazed. His dress was not the + national costume of the valley, neither was it like anything that Aasa had + ever known. On his head he wore a cap that hung all on one side, and was + decorated with a long, heavy silk tassel. A threadbare coat, which seemed + to be made expressly not to fit him, hung loosely on his sloping + shoulders, and a pair of gray pantaloons, which were narrow where they + ought to have been wide, and wide where it was their duty to be narrow, + extended their service to a little more than the upper half of the limb, + and, by a kind of compromise with the tops of the boots, managed to + protect also the lower half. His features were delicate, and would have + been called handsome had they belonged to a proportionately delicate body; + in his eyes hovered a dreamy vagueness which seemed to come and vanish, + and to flit from one feature to another, suggesting the idea of + remoteness, and a feeling of hopeless strangeness to the world and all its + concerns. + </p> + <p> + “Do I inconvenience you, madam?” were the first words he uttered, as Aasa + in her usual abrupt manner stayed her laughter, turned her back on him, + and hastily started for the house. + </p> + <p> + “Inconvenience?” said she, surprised, and again slowly turned on her heel; + “no, not that I know.” + </p> + <p> + “Then tell me if there are people living here in the neighborhood, or if + the light deceived me, which I saw from the other side of the river.” + </p> + <p> + “Follow me,” answered Aasa, and she naïvely reached him her hand; “my + father’s name is Lage Ulfson Kvaerk; he lives in the large house you see + straight before you, there on the hill; and my mother lives there too.” + </p> + <p> + And hand in hand they walked together, where a path had been made between + two adjoining rye-fields; his serious smile seemed to grow milder and + happier, the longer he lingered at her side, and her eye caught a ray of + more human intelligence, as it rested on him. + </p> + <p> + “What do you do up here in the long winter?” asked he, after a pause. + </p> + <p> + “We sing,” answered she, as it were at random, because the word came into + her mind; “and what do you do, where you come from?” + </p> + <p> + “I gather song.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you ever heard the forest sing?” asked she, curiously. + </p> + <p> + “That is why I came here.” + </p> + <p> + And again they walked on in silence. + </p> + <p> + It was near midnight when they entered the large hall at Kvaerk. Aasa went + before, still leading the young man by the hand. In the twilight which + filled the house, the space between the black, smoky rafters opened a + vague vista into the region of the fabulous, and every object in the room + loomed forth from the dusk with exaggerated form and dimensions. The room + appeared at first to be but the haunt of the spirits of the past; no human + voice, no human footstep, was heard; and the stranger instinctively + pressed the hand he held more tightly; for he was not sure but that he was + standing on the boundary of dream-land, and some elfin maiden had reached + him her hand to lure him into her mountain, where he should live with her + forever. But the illusion was of brief duration; for Aasa’s thoughts had + taken a widely different course; it was but seldom she had found herself + under the necessity of making a decision; and now it evidently devolved + upon her to find the stranger a place of rest for the night; so instead of + an elf-maid’s kiss and a silver palace, he soon found himself huddled into + a dark little alcove in the wall, where he was told to go to sleep, while + Aasa wandered over to the empty cow-stables, and threw herself down in the + hay by the side of two sleeping milkmaids. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0029" id="link2H_4_0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. + </h2> + <p> + There was not a little astonishment manifested among the servant-maids at + Kvaerk the next morning, when the huge, gaunt figure of a man was seen to + launch forth from Aasa’s alcove, and the strangest of all was, that Aasa + herself appeared to be as much astonished as the rest. And there they + stood, all gazing at the bewildered traveler, who indeed was no less + startled than they, and as utterly unable to account for his own sudden + apparition. After a long pause, he summoned all his courage, fixed his + eyes intently on the group of the girls, and with a few rapid steps + advanced toward Aasa, whom he seized by the hand and asked, “Are you not + my maiden of yester-eve?” + </p> + <p> + She met his gaze firmly, and laid her hand on her forehead as if to clear + her thoughts; as the memory of the night flashed through her mind, a + bright smile lit up her features, and she answered, “You are the man who + gathers song. Forgive me, I was not sure but it was all a dream; for I + dream so much.” + </p> + <p> + Then one of the maids ran out to call Lage Ulfson, who had gone to the + stables to harness the horses; and he came and greeted the unknown man, + and thanked him for last meeting, as is the wont of Norse peasants, + although they had never seen each other until that morning. But when the + stranger had eaten two meals in Lage’s house, Lage asked him his name and + his father’s occupation; for old Norwegian hospitality forbids the host to + learn the guest’s name before he has slept and eaten under his roof. It + was that same afternoon, when they sat together smoking their pipes under + the huge old pine in the yard,—it was then Lage inquired about the + young man’s name and family; and the young man said that his name was + Trond Vigfusson, that he had graduated at the University of Christiania, + and that his father had been a lieutenant in the army; but both he and + Trond’s mother had died, when Trond was only a few years old. Lage then + told his guest Vigfusson something about his family, but of the legend of + Asathor and Saint Olaf he spoke not a word. And while they were sitting + there talking together, Aasa came and sat down at Vigfusson’s feet; her + long golden hair flowed in a waving stream down over her back and + shoulders, there was a fresh, healthful glow on her cheeks, and her blue, + fathomless eyes had a strangely joyous, almost triumphant expression. The + father’s gaze dwelt fondly upon her, and the collegian was but conscious + of one thought: that she was wondrously beautiful. And still so great was + his natural timidity and awkwardness in the presence of women, that it was + only with the greatest difficulty he could master his first impulse to + find some excuse for leaving her. She, however, was aware of no such + restraint. + </p> + <p> + “You said you came to gather song,” she said; “where do you find it? for I + too should like to find some new melody for my old thoughts; I have + searched so long.” + </p> + <p> + “I find my songs on the lips of the people,” answered he, “and I write + them down as the maidens or the old men sing them.” + </p> + <p> + She did not seem quite to comprehend that. “Do you hear maidens sing + them?” asked she, astonished. “Do you mean the troll-virgins and the + elf-maidens?” + </p> + <p> + “By troll-virgins and elf-maidens, or what the legends call so, I + understand the hidden and still audible voices of nature, of the dark pine + forests, the legend-haunted glades, and the silent tarns; and this was + what I referred to when I answered your question if I had ever heard the + forest sing.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, oh!” cried she, delighted, and clapped her hands like a child; but in + another moment she as suddenly grew serious again, and sat steadfastly + gazing into his eye, as if she were trying to look into his very soul and + there to find something kindred to her own lonely heart. A minute ago her + presence had embarrassed him; now, strange to say, he met her eye, and + smiled happily as he met it. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to say that you make your living by writing songs?” asked + Lage. + </p> + <p> + “The trouble is,” answered Vigfusson, “that I make no living at all; but I + have invested a large capital, which is to yield its interest in the + future. There is a treasure of song hidden in every nook and corner of our + mountains and forests, and in our nation’s heart. I am one of the miners + who have come to dig it out before time and oblivion shall have buried + every trace of it, and there shall not be even the will-o’-the-wisp of a + legend to hover over the spot, and keep alive the sad fact of our loss and + our blamable negligence.” + </p> + <p> + Here the young man paused; his eyes gleamed, his pale cheeks flushed, and + there was a warmth and an enthusiasm in his words which alarmed Lage, + while on Aasa it worked like the most potent charm of the ancient mystic + runes; she hardly comprehended more than half of the speaker’s meaning, + but his fire and eloquence were on this account none the less powerful. + </p> + <p> + “If that is your object,” remarked Lage, “I think you have hit upon the + right place in coming here. You will be able to pick up many an odd bit of + a story from the servants and others hereabouts, and you are welcome to + stay here with us as long as you choose.” + </p> + <p> + Lage could not but attribute to Vigfusson the merit of having kept Aasa at + home a whole day, and that in the month of midsummer. And while he sat + there listening to their conversation, while he contemplated the delight + that beamed from his daughter’s countenance and, as he thought, the really + intelligent expression of her eyes, could he conceal from himself the + paternal hopes that swelled his heart? She was all that was left him, the + life or the death of his mighty race. And here was one who was likely to + understand her, and to whom she seemed willing to yield all the affection + of her warm but wayward heart. Thus ran Lage Ulfson’s reflections; and at + night he had a little consultation with Elsie, his wife, who, it is + needless to add, was no less sanguine than he. + </p> + <p> + “And then Aasa will make an excellent housewife, you know,” observed + Elsie. “I will speak to the girl about it to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “No, for Heaven’s sake, Elsie!” exclaimed Lage, “don’t you know your + daughter better than that? Promise me, Elsie, that you will not say a + single word; it would be a cruel thing, Elsie, to mention anything to her. + She is not like other girls, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, Lage, I shall not say a single word. Alas, you are right, she + is not like other girls.” And Elsie again sighed at her husband’s sad + ignorance of a woman’s nature, and at the still sadder fact of her + daughter’s inferiority to the accepted standard of womanhood. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0030" id="link2H_4_0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV. + </h2> + <p> + Trond Vigfusson must have made a rich harvest of legends at Kvaerk, at + least judging by the time he stayed there; for days and weeks passed, and + he had yet said nothing of going. Not that anybody wished him to go; no, + on the contrary, the longer he stayed the more indispensable he seemed to + all; and Lage Ulfson could hardly think without a shudder of the + possibility of his ever having to leave them. For Aasa, his only child, + was like another being in the presence of this stranger; all that weird, + forest-like intensity, that wild, half supernatural tinge in her character + which in a measure excluded her from the blissful feeling of fellowship + with other men, and made her the strange, lonely creature she was,—all + this seemed to vanish as dew in the morning sun when Vigfusson’s eyes + rested upon her; and with every day that passed, her human and womanly + nature gained a stronger hold upon her. She followed him like his shadow + on all his wanderings, and when they sat down together by the wayside, she + would sing, in a clear, soft voice, an ancient lay or ballad, and he would + catch her words on his paper, and smile at the happy prospect of + perpetuating what otherwise would have been lost. Aasa’s love, whether + conscious or not, was to him an everlasting source of strength, was a + revelation of himself to himself, and a clearing and widening power which + brought ever more and more of the universe within the scope of his vision. + So they lived on from day to day and from week to week, and, as old Lage + remarked, never had Kvaerk been the scene of so much happiness. Not a + single time during Vigfusson’s stay had Aasa fled to the forest, not a + meal had she missed, and at the hours for family devotion she had taken + her seat at the big table with the rest and apparently listened with as + much attention and interest. Indeed, all this time Aasa seemed purposely + to avoid the dark haunts of the woods, and, whenever she could, chose the + open highway; not even Vigfusson’s entreaties could induce her to tread + the tempting paths that led into the forest’s gloom. + </p> + <p> + “And why not, Aasa?” he would say; “summer is ten times summer there when + the drowsy noonday spreads its trembling maze of shadows between those + huge, venerable trunks. You can feel the summer creeping into your very + heart and soul, there!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Vigfusson,” she would answer, shaking her head mournfully, “for a + hundred paths that lead in, there is only one that leads out again, and + sometimes even that one is nowhere to be found.” + </p> + <p> + He understood her not, but fearing to ask, he remained silent. + </p> + <p> + His words and his eyes always drew her nearer and nearer to him; and the + forest and its strange voices seemed a dark, opposing influence, which + strove to take possession of her heart and to wrest her away from him + forever; she helplessly clung to him; every thought and emotion of her + soul clustered about him, and every hope of life and happiness was staked + on him. + </p> + <p> + One evening Vigfusson and old Lage Ulfson had been walking about the + fields to look at the crop, both smoking their evening pipes. But as they + came down toward the brink whence the path leads between the two adjoining + rye-fields, they heard a sweet, sad voice crooning some old ditty down + between the birch-trees at the precipice; they stopped to listen, and soon + recognized Aasa’s yellow hair over the tops the rye; the shadow as of a + painful emotion flitted over the father’s countenance, and he turned his + back on his guest and started to go; then again paused, and said, + imploringly, “Try to get her home if you can, friend Vigfusson.” + </p> + <p> + Vigfusson nodded, and Lage went; the song had ceased for a moment, now it + began again: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Ye twittering birdlings, in forest and glen + I have heard you so gladly before; + But a bold knight hath come to woo me, + I dare listen to you no more. + For it is so dark, so dark in the forest. + + “And the knight who hath come a-wooing to me, + He calls me his love and his own; + Why then should I stray through the darksome woods, + Or dream in the glades alone? + For it is so dark, so dark in the forest.” + </pre> + <p> + Her voice fell to a low unintelligible murmur; then it rose, and the last + verses came, clear, soft, and low, drifting on the evening breeze: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Yon beckoning world, that shimmering lay + O’er the woods where the old pines grow, + That gleamed through the moods of the summer day + When the breezes were murmuring low + (And it is so dark, so dark in the forest); + + “Oh let me no more in the sunshine hear + Its quivering noonday call; + The bold knight’s love is the sun of my heart— + Is my life, and my all in all. + But it is so dark, so dark in the forest.” + </pre> + <p> + The young man felt the blood rushing to his face—his heart beat + violently. There was a keen sense of guilt in the blush on his cheek, a + loud accusation in the throbbing pulse and the swelling heart-beat. Had he + not stood there behind the maiden’s back and cunningly peered into her + soul’s holy of holies? True, he loved Aasa; at least he thought he did, + and the conviction was growing stronger with every day that passed. And + now he had no doubt that he had gained her heart. It was not so much the + words of the ballad which had betrayed the secret; he hardly knew what it + was, but somehow the truth had flashed upon him, and he could no longer + doubt. + </p> + <p> + Vigfusson sat down on the moss-grown rock and pondered. How long he sat + there he did not know, but when he rose and looked around, Aasa was gone. + Then remembering her father’s request to bring her home, he hastened up + the hill-side toward the mansion, and searched for her in all directions. + It was near midnight when he returned to Kvaerk, where Aasa sat in her + high gable window, still humming the weird melody of the old ballad. + </p> + <p> + By what reasoning Vigfusson arrived at his final conclusion is difficult + to tell. If he had acted according to his first and perhaps most generous + impulse, the matter would soon have been decided; but he was all the time + possessed of a vague fear of acting dishonorably, and it was probably this + very fear which made him do what, to the minds of those whose friendship + and hospitality he had accepted, had something of the appearance he wished + so carefully to avoid. Aasa was rich; he had nothing; it was a reason for + delay, but hardly a conclusive one. They did not know him; he must go out + in the world and prove himself worthy of her. He would come back when he + should have compelled the world to respect him; for as yet he had done + nothing. In fact, his arguments were good and honorable enough, and there + would have been no fault to find with him, had the object of his love been + as capable of reasoning as he was himself. But Aasa, poor thing, could do + nothing by halves; a nature like hers brooks no delay; to her love was + life or it was death. + </p> + <p> + The next morning he appeared at breakfast with his knapsack on his back, + and otherwise equipped for his journey. It was of no use that Elsie cried + and begged him to stay, that Lage joined his prayers to hers, and that + Aasa stood staring at him with a bewildered gaze. Vigfusson shook hands + with them all, thanked them for their kindness to him, and promised to + return; he held Aasa’s hand long in his, but when he released it, it + dropped helplessly at her side. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0031" id="link2H_4_0031"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V. + </h2> + <p> + Far up in the glen, about a mile from Kvaerk, ran a little brook; that is, + it was little in summer and winter, but in the spring, while the snow was + melting up in the mountains, it overflowed the nearest land and turned the + whole glen into a broad and shallow river. It was easy to cross, however; + a light foot might jump from stone to stone, and be over in a minute. Not + the hind herself could be lighter on her foot than Aasa was; and even in + the spring-flood it was her wont to cross and recross the brook, and to + sit dreaming on a large stone against which the water broke incessantly, + rushing in white torrents over its edges. + </p> + <p> + Here she sat one fair summer day—the day after Vigfusson’s + departure. It was noon, and the sun stood high over the forest. The water + murmured and murmured, babbled and whispered, until at length there came a + sudden unceasing tone into its murmur, then another, and it sounded like a + faint whispering song of small airy beings. And as she tried to listen, to + fix the air in her mind, it all ceased again, and she heard but the + monotonous murmuring of the brook. Everything seemed so empty and + worthless, as if that faint melody had been the world of the moment. But + there it was again; it sung and sung, and the birch overhead took up the + melody and rustled it with its leaves, and the grasshopper over in the + grass caught it and whirred it with her wings. The water, the trees, the + air, were full of it. What a strange melody! + </p> + <p> + Aasa well knew that every brook and river has its Neck, besides hosts of + little water-sprites. She had heard also that in the moonlight at + midsummer, one might chance to see them rocking in bright little shells, + playing among the pebbles, or dancing on the large leaves of the + water-lily. And that they could sing also, she doubted not; it was their + voices she heard through the murmuring of the brook. Aasa eagerly bent + forward and gazed down into the water: the faint song grew louder, paused + suddenly, and sprang into life again; and its sound was so sweet, so + wonderfully alluring! Down there in the water, where a stubborn pebble + kept chafing a precipitous little side current, clear tiny pearl-drops + would leap up from the stream, and float half-wonderingly downward from + rapid to rapid, until they lost themselves in the whirl of some stronger + current. Thus sat Aasa and gazed and gazed, and in one moment she seemed + to see what in the next moment she saw not. Then a sudden great hush stole + through the forest, and in the hush she could hear the silence calling her + name. It was so long since she had been in the forest, it seemed ages and + ages ago. She hardly knew herself; the light seemed to be shining into her + eyes as with a will and purpose, perhaps to obliterate something, some old + dream or memory, or to impart some new power—the power of seeing the + unseen. And this very thought, this fear of some possible loss, brought + the fading memory back, and she pressed her hands against her throbbing + temples as if to bind and chain it there forever; and it was he to whom + her thought returned. She heard his voice, saw him beckoning to her to + follow him, and she rose to obey, but her limbs were as petrified, and the + stone on which she was sitting held her with the power of a hundred strong + arms. The sunshine smote upon her eyelids, and his name was blotted out + from her life; there was nothing but emptiness all around her. Gradually + the forest drew nearer and nearer, the water bubbled and rippled, and the + huge, bare-stemmed pines stretched their long gnarled arms toward her. The + birches waved their heads with a wistful nod, and the profile of the rock + grew into a face with a long, hooked nose, and a mouth half open as if to + speak. And the word that trembled on his lips was, “Come.” She felt no + fear nor reluctance, but rose to obey. Then and not until then she saw an + old man standing at her side; his face was the face of the rock, his white + beard flowed to his girdle, and his mouth was half open, but no word came + from his lips. There was something in the wistful look of his eye which + she knew so well, which she had seen so often, although she could not tell + when or where. The old man extended his hand; Aasa took it, and fearlessly + or rather spontaneously followed. They approached the steep, rocky wall; + as they drew near, a wild, fierce laugh rang through the forest. The + features of the old man were twisted as it were into a grin; so also were + the features of the rock; but the laugh blew like a mighty blast through + the forest. + </p> + <p> + Aasa clung to the old man’s hand and followed him—she knew not + whither. + </p> + <p> + At home in the large sitting-room at Kvaerk sat Lage, brooding over the + wreck of his hopes and his happiness. Aasa had gone to the woods again the + very first day after Vigfusson’s departure. What would be the end of all + this? It was already late in the evening, and she had not returned. The + father cast anxious glances toward the door, every time he heard the latch + moving. At last, when it was near midnight, he roused all his men from + their sleep, and commanded them to follow him. Soon the dusky forests + resounded far and near with the blast of horns, the report of guns, and + the calling and shouting of men. The affrighted stag crossed and recrossed + the path of the hunters, but not a rifle was leveled at its head. Toward + morning—it was before the sun had yet risen—Lage, weary and + stunned, stood leaning up against a huge fir. Then suddenly a fierce, wild + laugh rang through the forest. Lage shuddered, raised his hand slowly and + pressed it hard against his forehead, vainly struggling to clear his + thoughts. The men clung fearfully together; a few of the more courageous + ones drew their knives and made the sign of the cross with them in the + air. Again the same mad laugh shook the air, and swept over the crowns of + the pine-trees. Then Lage lifted his eyes toward heaven and wrung his + hands: for the awful truth stood before him. He remained a long while + leaning against that old fir as in a dead stupor; and no one dared to + arouse him. A suppressed murmur reached the men’s ears. “But deliver us + from evil” were the last words they heard. + </p> + <p> + When Lage and his servants came home to Kvaerk with the mournful tidings + of Aasa’s disappearance, no one knew what to do or say. There could be no + doubt that Aasa was “mountain-taken,” as they call it; for there were + Trolds and dwarfs in all the rocks and forests round about, and they would + hardly let slip the chance of alluring so fair a maiden as Aasa was into + their castles in the mountains. Elsie, her mother, knew a good deal about + the Trolds, their tricks, and their way of living, and when she had wept + her fill, she fell to thinking of the possibility of regaining her + daughter from their power. If Aasa had not yet tasted of food or drink in + the mountain, she was still out of danger; and if the pastor would allow + the church-bell to be brought up into the forest and rung near the rock + where the laugh had been heard, the Trolds could be compelled to give her + back. No sooner had this been suggested to Lage, than the command was + given to muster the whole force of men and horses, and before evening on + the same day the sturdy swains of Kvaerk were seen climbing the tower of + the venerable church, whence soon the huge old bell descended, to the + astonishment of the throng of curious women and children who had flocked + together to see the extraordinary sight. It was laid upon four large + wagons, which had been joined together with ropes and planks, and drawn + away by twelve strong horses. Long after the strange caravan had vanished + in the twilight, the children stood gazing up into the empty bell-tower. + </p> + <p> + It was near midnight, when Lage stood at the steep, rocky wall in the + forest; the men were laboring to hoist the church-bell up to a staunch + cross-beam between two mighty fir-trees, and in the weird light of their + torches, the wild surroundings looked wilder and more fantastic. Anon, the + muffled noise and bustle of the work being at an end, the laborers + withdrew, and a strange, feverish silence seemed to brood over the forest. + Lage took a step forward, and seized the bell-rope; the clear, conquering + toll of the metal rung solemnly through the silence, and from the rocks, + the earth, and the tree-tops, rose a fierce chorus of howls, groans, and + screams. All night the ringing continued; the old trees swayed to and fro, + creaked, and groaned, the roots loosened their holds in the fissures of + the rock, and the bushy crowns bowed low under their unwonted burden. + </p> + <p> + It was well-nigh morn, but the dense fog still brooded over the woods, and + it was dark as night. Lage was sitting on the ground, his head leaning on + both his elbows; at his side lay the flickering torch, and the huge bell + hung dumb overhead. In the dark he felt a hand touch his shoulder; had it + happened only a few hours before, he would have shuddered; now the + physical sensation hardly communicated itself to his mind, or, if it did, + had no power to rouse him from his dead, hopeless apathy. Suddenly—could + he trust his own ears?—the church-bell gave a slow, solemn, + quivering stroke, and the fogs rolled in thick masses to the east and to + the west, as if blown by the breath of the sound. Lage seized his torch, + sprang to his feet, and saw—Vigfusson. He stretched his arm with the + blazing torch closer to the young man’s face, stared at him with large + eyes, and his lip quivered; but he could not utter a word. + </p> + <p> + “Vigfusson?” faltered he at last. + </p> + <p> + “It is I;” and the second stroke followed, stronger and more solemn than + the first. The same fierce, angry voices chorused forth from every nook of + the rock and the woods. Then came the third—the noise grew; fourth—and + it sounded like a hoarse, angry hiss; when the twelfth stroke fell, + silence reigned again in the forest. Vigfusson dropped the bell-rope, and + with a loud voice called Lage Kvaerk and his men. He lit a torch, held it + aloft over his head, and peered through the dusky night. The men spread + through the highlands to search for the lost maiden; Lage followed close + in Vigfusson’s footsteps. They had not walked far when they heard the + babbling of the brook only a few feet away. Thither they directed their + steps. On a large stone in the middle of the stream the youth thought he + saw something white, like a large kerchief. Quick as thought he was at its + side, bowed down with his torch, and—fell backward. It was Aasa, his + beloved, cold and dead; but as the father stooped over his dead child the + same mad laugh echoed wildly throughout the wide woods, but madder and + louder than ever before, and from the rocky wall came a fierce, broken + voice: + </p> + <p> + “I came at last.” + </p> + <p> + When, after an hour of vain search, the men returned to the place whence + they had started, they saw a faint light flickering between the birches + not fifty feet away; they formed a firm column, and with fearful hearts + drew nearer. There lay Lage Kvaerk, their master, still bending down over + his child’s pale features, and staring into her sunken eyes as if he could + not believe that she were really dead. And at his side stood Vigfusson, + pale and aghast, with the burning torch in his hand. The footsteps of the + men awakened the father, but when he turned his face on them they + shuddered and started back. Then Lage rose, lifted the maiden from the + stone, and silently laid her in Vigfusson’s arms; her rich yellow hair + flowed down over his shoulder. The youth let his torch fall into the + waters, and with a sharp, serpent-like hiss its flame was quenched. He + crossed the brook; the men followed, and the dark pine-trees closed over + the last descendant of Lage Ulfson’s mighty race. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_FOOT" id="link2H_FOOT"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Footnotes: + </h2> + <p> + <a name="linknote-1" id="linknote-1"> + <!-- Note --></a> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 1 (<a href="#linknoteref-1">return</a>)<br /> [ “I am a Dane. I speak + Danish.”] + </p> + <p> + <a name="linknote-2" id="linknote-2"> + <!-- Note --></a> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 2 (<a href="#linknoteref-2">return</a>)<br /> [ Examen artium is the + entrance examination to the Norwegian University, and philosophicum the + first degree. The ranks given at these are Laudabilis prae ceteris (in + student’s parlance, prae), laudabilis or laud, haud illaudabilis, or haud, + etc.] + </p> + <p> + <a name="linknote-3" id="linknote-3"> + <!-- Note --></a> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 3 (<a href="#linknoteref-3">return</a>)<br /> [ Free translation of a + Swedish serenade, the name of whose author I have forgotten. H. H. B.] + </p> + <p> + <a name="linknote-4" id="linknote-4"> + <!-- Note --></a> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 4 (<a href="#linknoteref-4">return</a>)<br /> [ Translation, from “Exotics. + By J. F. C. & C. L.”] + </p> + <p> + <a name="linknote-5" id="linknote-5"> + <!-- Note --></a> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 5 (<a href="#linknoteref-5">return</a>)<br /> [ In the country districts of + Norway Saturday evening is regarded as “the wooer’s eve.”] + </p> + <p> + <a name="linknote-6" id="linknote-6"> + <!-- Note --></a> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 6 (<a href="#linknoteref-6">return</a>)<br /> [ The saeter is a place in + the mountains where the Norwegian peasants spend their summers pasturing + their cattle. Every large farm has its own saeter, consisting of one or + more chalets, hedged in by a fence of stone or planks.] + </p> + <p> + <a name="linknote-7" id="linknote-7"> + <!-- Note --></a> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 7 (<a href="#linknoteref-7">return</a>)<br /> [ Katzenjammer is the + sensation a man has the morning after a carousal.] + </p> + <p> + <a name="linknote-8" id="linknote-8"> + <!-- Note --></a> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 8 (<a href="#linknoteref-8">return</a>)<br /> [ A stave is an improvised + responsive song. It is an ancient pastime in Norway, and is kept up until + this day, especially among the peasantry. The students, also, at their + social gatherings, throw improvised rhymes to each other across the table, + and the rest of the company repeat the refrain.] + </p> + <p> + <a name="linknote-9" id="linknote-9"> + <!-- Note --></a> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 9 (<a href="#linknoteref-9">return</a>)<br /> [ “The red cock crew” is the + expression used in the old Norwegian Fagas for incendiary fire.] + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Tales From Two Hemispheres, by +Hjalmar Hjorth Boysen + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES FROM TWO HEMISPHERES *** + +***** This file should be named 299-h.htm or 299-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/299/ + +Produced by Charles Keller, and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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