SAW 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 4 ■?* ^ 
 
iq)9 
 
 Cornell University Library 
 PT 9729.G2 1919 
 
 Sara Videbeck 
 
 3 1924 026 327 563 
 
 CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 LIBRARY 
 
 BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME 
 OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT 
 FUND GIVEN IN 1 89 1 BY 
 
 HENRY WILLIAMS SAGE 
 
Cornell University 
 Jbrary 
 
 The original of tliis book is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924026327563 
 
This series of Scandinavian Classics is published 
 by The American-Scandinavian Foundation in the 
 belief that greater familiarity with the chief literary 
 monuments of the North will help Americans to a 
 better understanding of Scandinavians, and thus serve 
 to stimulate their sympathetic cooperation to good ends 
 
SCANDINAVIAN CLASSICS 
 VOLUME XII 
 
 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 THE CHAPEL 
 
 BY 
 
 C.J. L. ALMQUIST 
 
ESTABLISHED BY 
 NIELS POULSON 
 
SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 AND 
 
 THE CHAPEL 
 By q. J. L. ALMQUIST 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE SWEDISH 
 
 BY ADOLPH BURNETT BENSON 
 
 Author of ^Smedish Romantician" 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 THE AMERICAN-SCANDINAVIAN FOUNDATION 
 
 LONDON: HUMPHREY MILFORD 
 
 OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS 
 
 I919 
 
 
Copyright, ipip> by The 'iAmerican-Scandinavian Foundation 
 
 fig2>'f 
 
 fi^ 
 
 T). S. Updil^ • The ^Merrymount Tress ■ 'Boston ■ U. S.iA. 
 
 ,mh Vi Ji f) J 
 
TO THE MEMORY OF 
 
 FRANK GUSTAVE BENSON, 
 
 MUSICIAN, SOLDIER, FRIEND, AND BROTHER, 
 
 THIS VOLUME IS DEDICATED 
 
 BY THE TRANSLATOR 
 
Introduction 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 ix 
 
 Sara Videbeck 
 
 
 3 
 
 The Chapel 
 
 
 165 
 
Introduction 
 
 THE years 1830 to 1850 formed a period of 
 unrest in Europe. The artistic freedom and 
 individualism of the Romantic revolt had helped 
 to prepare the way for social and political liberalism, 
 while a more intense study of history, folklore, and 
 language had stimulated a greater interest in the 
 common people. Romanticism, vague and subjec- 
 tive, had contained from the first the elements of 
 dissolution. Its late sponsors, therefore, sensitive to 
 both their own poetic self and the more objective 
 trend of the time, vacillated between the unreal and 
 the real, until the latter predominated, giving birth 
 to realism. Obviously, Scandinavia could not re- 
 main immune to the strong current tendencies in 
 other countries, a fact which is best exemplified, 
 perhaps, in the work of a Swedish writer, Carl Jonas 
 Love Almquist. Though singularly independent, 
 the strange novelist represents both the culmina- 
 tion and decline of the Romantic cult and the begin- 
 ning of a new order. His best literary products 
 appeared during this unsettled period of transition, 
 and the two here offered, both pioneers of their kind, 
 and published in the fourth decade, indicate a new 
 democratic, realistic spirit in Northern culture. 
 Almquist is undoubtedly the most bizarre gen- 
 
X INTRODUCTION 
 
 ius in Swedish letters. Indeed, a modern editor 
 designates him as "the most important and most 
 gifted of Swedish writers at the middle of the last 
 century." The descriptive epithet "a man of con- 
 tradictions," so often applied to Strindberg, may 
 well be applied to Almquist also. Seldom have so 
 many paradoxes and inconsistencies been combined 
 in the same personality. Deep in his inner life, how- 
 ever, we find a unity of mystical, religious feeling. 
 We find also in his dualistic nature a more or less 
 well-defined unity of purpose, for his diligence, 
 versatility, and productivity show that Almquist 
 believed he was born to reform the existing con- 
 ventional standards and had a great mission to ful- 
 fill in Swedish literature. 
 
 Almquist was born in Stockholm, November a8, 
 1793. Among his paternal ancestors were many 
 prominent Lutheran clergymen. His father bore 
 the title of "military commissary," but was in re- 
 ality a farmer in Uppland, an unimaginative man 
 of affairs who cared for nothing but figures. His 
 mother, of a distinguished intellectual family, was 
 an introspective, passionate woman,whose" favorite 
 pastime was to wander around in parks and woods, 
 preferably alone or with Rousseau." There had 
 never been any mental or spiritual sympathy be- 
 tween his parents, and much of Almquist's attitude 
 
INTRODUCTION xi 
 
 toward marriage must be traced to what he saw in 
 his own home. Thus the impressionable youth was 
 sent out into the world, as he said, with two souls: 
 a poetic soul, the inheritance from his mother, and 
 an "accountant soul," from his father. 
 
 Young Almquist spent a part of his time on the 
 farm and a part in his native city. He learned to 
 love outdoor life, studied the landscapes with fer- 
 vid attention, and acquired a deep aversion for 
 urban conventionalities. Rousseauism never had a 
 more enthusiastic votary. His tendency toward a 
 dreamy religiosity was fostered, after the untimely 
 death of his mother, by his maternal grandfather, 
 the learned Gjorwell, a sympathetic admirer of the 
 Moravians. This early pietistic influence was sup- 
 plemented later by the study of Swedenborg, who 
 became a favorite guide in Almquist's religious 
 speculations. 
 
 Gjorwell soon discovered the potentialities of his 
 grandson, encouraged his desire for many-sided 
 learning, and hoped to make him an historian. Alm- 
 quist read everything that he could find, prepared 
 for the university, and entered Uppsala in 1808. 
 He took the master's degree, in 1 8 1 5, with distinc- 
 tion, then served for five years as tutor to a Finnish 
 nobleman. From 1 820 to 1 824 he was a clerk in the 
 ecclesiastical department in Stockholm. 
 
xii INTRODUCTION 
 
 Meanwhile Almquist had begun to expound his 
 love for the "simple and instinctive," and in 1816 
 had joined the Manhem Society. This group of 
 enthusiasts, like the members of the older so-called 
 Gothic Society, purposed to emulate the example 
 of their Scandinavian forefathers and live a more 
 vigorous, primitive life, in closer contact with na- 
 ture. Almquist resolved to get away from the Stock- 
 holm atmosphere, and took a bold step. He bought 
 a little farm in Varmland, married a young coun- 
 try girl, called himself "Yeoman Carlsson," and 
 settled down to a "life of antediluvian innocence." 
 
 All went well in the beginning; Almquist di- 
 vided his time between tilling the soil and reading 
 and writing. But soon the literary interests of the 
 idealist eclipsed all practical considerations, and he 
 was obliged to move back to the capital after only 
 two years. He supported himself and his family 
 temporarily by copying, until he was appointed a 
 teacher in the New Elementary School, an institu- 
 tion established for pedagogical experimentation. 
 He became principal in 1829 and was commissioned 
 to write text-books for the various courses. Again, 
 all went well at first, for Almquist was interested 
 in educational problems ; but his literary plans soon 
 assumed gigantic proportions. His teaching prob- 
 ably suffered as a consequence, and many com- 
 
INTRODUCTION xiii 
 
 plaints of neglect were registered against him. His 
 ordination as a Lutheran pastor did not open any 
 better prospects — the only position he ever held 
 as minister of the Gospel was that of regimental 
 chaplain — nor was he successful in obtaining a cov- 
 eted professorship in Lund. Embittered by oppo- 
 sition and misunderstanding and prompted by his 
 greater interest in writing as well as by the more 
 definite economic advantages offered byjournalism, 
 he broke all bonds and, in 1 839, joined the editorial 
 %t2iSoi Aftonbladet, the organ of the liberalists. Two 
 years later he resigned as principal of the school. 
 
 Despite his phenomenal industry and consid- 
 erable income, Almquist's finances were far from 
 satisfactory, and though he made separate provi- 
 sion for his family, hoping this might improve his 
 affairs, it was evident that they would never be any 
 better. The lack of appreciation of his work and 
 aspirations shown by his peasant wife added to his 
 discontent. The crash came when. In 1 851, he made 
 his way secretly through Bremen and London to 
 America, leaving his debts behind, and exposing 
 himseir thereby to charges of a still more serious 
 nature. 
 
 Almquist's life in the United States was one 
 continuous struggle for existence. He lived in vari- 
 ous places, under assumed names, supporting him- 
 
xiv INTRODUCTION 
 
 self by writing and by giving lessons in English 
 and Latin. At one time he is said to have collected 
 Indian melodies in the vicinity of Niagara. When 
 the Civil War broke out, Almquist was in New 
 Orleans and, being an enthusiastic Unionist, an 
 opponent of slavery, and an admirer of Lincoln, 
 he found himself obliged ±o seek refuge elsewhere. 
 He started for Mexico, but was robbed in Texas, 
 and had to move north rather precipitately, losing 
 several manuscripts, which he never recovered. He 
 took great interest in the progress of the war, but 
 was too old to shoulder a musket. In 1865, still 
 engaged in pretentious literary enterprises, he left 
 America for Bremen. There he died in September 
 of the following year, at the age of seventy-three. 
 He was first buried in Bremen, but in 1901 his re- 
 mains were removed to Sweden. 
 
 The writings of Almquist embrace many forms and 
 subjects, treat of many ages in history,and are local- 
 ized in many parts of the globe. Ethics, religion, 
 philosophy, literary criticism and history, agricul- 
 ture, and social and political problems are treated 
 by this curious intellect, who was a law unto him- 
 self and followed only the dictates of his own con- 
 victions and the whims of his boundless fancy. 
 Even those of his productions that belong more 
 
INTRODUCTION xv 
 
 strictly to polite literature are often filled with scien- 
 tific, geographical, and linguistic erudition — much 
 of it introduced for effect — or serve as vehicles 
 for his conception of life. Notwithstanding the 
 variety in what came from his pen, Almquist cre- 
 ated some real works of art, and despite the broad 
 scope of his interests, his learning has something 
 more than the superficiality of the dilettant. 
 
 In a clever, huniorous satire, written in 1814, 
 Almquist began to show the underlying tendencies 
 of his nature. Other works from early manhood 
 comprise sagas, legends, and philosophical articles, 
 which glorify natural scenery and a Rousseauan 
 life or advocate a passive relation with God and a 
 closer identification with the Absolute or, as Alm- 
 quist called it, " the whole." His first important pro- 
 duct is Amorina, a long, fantastic piece in dramatic 
 form, a Neo-Romantic arabesque, raised to the high- 
 est power, with all the ardor and imagery of a youth- 
 ful poet's imagination, and permeated with all the 
 liberal and esthetic principles of its author. It was 
 ready for the press in 1822, but did not appear 
 until 1839, the same year as Sara Videbeck. 
 
 Most of Almquist's works were published in a 
 collection of fourteen volumes, called 'Tornrosens 
 Bok {'The Book of the Briar Rose), which began to 
 appear in 1832. This series was designed to give 
 
xvi INTRODUCTION 
 
 a complete picture of life, with both thorns and 
 roses, as the name implies, as well as a comprehen- 
 sive idea of human thought, literature, and know- 
 ledge. In the author's mind, the colossal under- 
 taking formed an organic unity and was intended 
 to be a universal work of encyclopedic aim. Alm- 
 quist worked long and seriously in formulating his 
 plans; many of the productions incorporated in the 
 final series were probably written during the twen- 
 ties. As long as he lived, he labored to increase 
 the scope of his "book," and when he passed away, 
 some fourteen hundred neatly written folio pages 
 of manuscript were ready to be added to his liter- 
 ary legacy. It grew very rhapsodically, however, 
 and the only inner unity is the unity of authorship. 
 Externally, the separate parts are linked through 
 being narrated to one listener by different members 
 of a fictitious literary coterie representing various 
 phases of the author's self. 
 
 A celebrated work from the Tornros series is The 
 Qjueen's Diamond, and one of the most fascinating 
 characters in Swedish Romantic literature is the 
 figure of its heroine, Tintomara. Like the hero- 
 ine of Amorina, her actions are motivated by in- 
 stinct, but it takes a diflferent form. Tintomara is 
 utterly incapable of falling in love, which serves 
 only to intensify her charms, and compels her to 
 
INTRODUCTION xvii 
 
 spend a great part of her life in dodging the atten- 
 tions of the other sex. At times the mysterious, 
 animal-like maiden dons the garb of a page. The 
 value of the novel as a whole, besides the poetic 
 interest in the heroine, lies in the historical set- 
 ting, centred as it is about the Frenchified court of 
 Gustavus III, whose murder in 1792 forms the 
 main pivot of the narrative. 
 
 Sara f^idebeck {Dei gar an) is historically the 
 most important of all Almquist's works. A land- 
 mark in Swedish fiction, it is probably the most 
 striking and discussed literary product from the 
 dawn of realism and feminism in Scandinavia. When 
 it was first printed, in 1838, the author's friends 
 besought him not to distribute any more copies, 
 and the edition was destroyed. It appeared again 
 the following year, however, this time being pro- 
 vided with an Introduction (here printed as an Epi- 
 logue), which made clear the meaning of the story. 
 
 As a novel with a "tendency," Sara Videbeck 
 has high technical merit. Karl Warburg is undoubt- 
 edly justified in saying that from a purely artistic 
 standpoint it is " one of Almquist's most finished 
 productions." By reason of its clear, simple,straight- 
 forward narrative, it is " a masterpiece of realistic 
 description and in this respect holds a unique place 
 in contemporaneous prose fiction." The impatient 
 
xviii INTRODUCTION 
 
 but good-hearted sergeant and especially the at- 
 tractive, refreshing heroine, a veritable creation in 
 literature, are characters whom we should like to 
 know. Almquist's enthusiasm for the less fortunate 
 classes in general wins our respect and sympathy. 
 The novel contains some very touching, singularly 
 dramatic situations, and is motivated with excep- 
 tional force. 
 
 Contemporary critics paid more attention to the 
 teachings of the work than to its delightful literary 
 qualities. It called forth protests from many quar- 
 ters, and Almquist was asked to explain its moral 
 import. Vehement controversies in social and eth- 
 ical questions resulted, and became a determining 
 factor in the author's later career. But the moral- 
 izing contents must be studied against the back- 
 ground of European tendencies. Sara Videbeck rep- 
 resents merely one battle in the general campaign 
 of feminism that was carried on during the thirties 
 in France, Germany, and to some extent in Eng- 
 land and Scandinavia. The form of marital union 
 proposed by Sara Videbeck, moreover, is highly 
 idealistic in theory and spirit and by no means so 
 radical as many have supposed, being based on 
 rational love, economic independence, and depth 
 and strength of character. Sara is a practical type 
 of woman, whose convictions have been moulded 
 
INTRODUCTION xix 
 
 by external and by no means impossible circum- 
 stances. She knows her own mind and heart, makes 
 her own living, and is wholly ca|)able of taking care 
 of herself. 
 
 Sara Videbeck had a marked influence on Swed- 
 ish letters with respect to both style and content. 
 It gave the impulse also for a flood of argumenta;- 
 tive Sara Videbeck literature; even unsympathetic 
 writers appropriated suggestions from its themes 
 and descriptions. Almquist lacked balance and firm- 
 ness — only a few stanch friends supported openly 
 his ideals — and it was not until much later, when 
 his artistry and social ethics were studied in the 
 light of evolutionary development, that he found 
 less reluctant disciples. Modern feminists, however, 
 have received fruitful impressions from Almquist. 
 Among them is the moralist Ellen Key, who has 
 called him "Sweden's most modern writer." 
 
 'The Chapel {Kapellei), Almquist's most pleasing 
 and beautiful tale of the common people, portrays 
 an ideal Christian minister, who chooses a congre- 
 gation of poor fishermen in preference to a more 
 lucrative parish. It appeared in 1838, the year after 
 the author's ordination, which may explain much 
 of the hero's profound sense of religious respon- 
 sibility. The young pastor's Christianity, however, 
 assumes a new practical, philanthropic form: the 
 
XX INTRODUCTION 
 
 missionary of God must first be himself a man of 
 deeds and sacrifices, and should, above all, begin 
 his work of charity at home. The Chapel has long 
 been a Swedish and Danish choice for wholesome 
 folk-reading, and will contribute materially to per- 
 petuate the name of Almqulst. Its vivid descrip- 
 tions and scraggy, weather-beaten,poverty-strIcken 
 characters produce an Impression that is scarcely 
 paralleled in Swedish fiction. Technically, the story 
 attains the same perfection as Sara Videbeck. 
 
 Almqulst represents a fusion of eighteenth-cen- 
 tury feeling, Storm-and-Stress disregard for rules, 
 Fichte-Schelling philosophy, and Swedish Fosfor- 
 ism. He had been impressed by the English nov- 
 els of terror and supernaturalism, and had found 
 much literary stimulus in Romanticists like Tieck, 
 Novalls, Fouque, Werner, and Hoffman. Victor 
 Hugo and George Sand — Almqulst paid a visit 
 to France in 1 840 — appealed strongly to his love 
 of esthetic independence. He was possessed of 
 an extraordinary originality and imagination, and 
 believed in the sovereignty and divine mission of 
 genius. He also shared the interest of his contem- 
 poraries in the historical past, but his was a poetic 
 interest, pure and simple; Almquist was no reac- 
 tionary in a political sense, as so many orthodox 
 Romanticists are. 
 
INTRODUCTION xxi 
 
 It is not surprising that we should find the Muse 
 of this writer in polite literature essentially lyrical. 
 He had the poet's sensitiveness to the lyric beau- 
 ties in life, and even his dramas resemble pictures 
 or tableaux, divided into scenes, with an under- 
 lying subjective quality. Yet the quantity of his 
 purely lyric poetry is very small. Nor was Alm- 
 quist a great lyrist ; his best field is in the shorter 
 forms of prose fiction, in which the novel with a 
 tendency is conspicuous. His ability to introduce 
 his moral thesis without detracting seriously from 
 the interest of the narrative is remarkable. In his 
 work the two elements seem mutually necessary 
 and complementary. 
 
 As we might expect, Almquis't displays great 
 variety in form and style. He tells us himself that 
 he painted as he pleased. In the «?(3Kf J, a small col- 
 lection of short lyrics in the Fosforistic vein, and 
 in his dramatic poems, he evinces the Romantic 
 fondness for metrical experimentation. Often verse 
 and prose supplement each other in the same work, 
 and are sometimes accompanied by his own im- 
 provised music to the songs. His verse, however, 
 is occasionally marred by padding. Almquist was 
 a clear but not always a deep thinker, and he at- 
 tempts to compensate for his poverty of thought 
 by a skillful jingle of words. 
 
xxii INTRODUCTION 
 
 Authorities have differed greatly in their esti- 
 mates of Almquist as a writer. He did not prove 
 to be the Messiah of Swedish letters which some 
 early contemporaries thought him, but the pro- 
 phecy of his friends that his work would be better 
 appreciated later has come true. Since 1880 the 
 star of his native fame has risen considerably, and 
 modern Swedish historians have devoted a large 
 proportion of space to him and his influence. In 
 the well-known anthology of Sveriges National- 
 LitteratuVj a whole volume, out of a total of twenty- 
 six, is given to Almquist — a distinction shared 
 only by Runeberg and Strindberg — and the late 
 Karl Warburg, in the Illustrerad Svensk Litteratur- 
 Historia, honors'him with over a hundred pages of 
 biography and criticism. It is now recognized that 
 Almquist has accomplished much of real value, 
 especially in introducing the realistic tale of the 
 common people into Swedish literature. 
 
 Almquist is very little known in America. He 
 has never attained the international fame of some 
 other Swedish writers, and his direct influence is 
 limited, for the most part, to northern Continental 
 Europe. A number of his works have been pub- 
 lished in Danish, Finnish, and German, but so far 
 as the translator has been able to determine, none 
 of them have been done into other languages. Sara 
 
INTRODUCTION xxiii 
 
 Videbeck and The Chapel are his first stories, then, 
 to appear in English. 
 
 I beg to acknowledge a debt of gratitude to Pro- 
 fessor William Henry Schofield and Dr. Henry 
 Goddard Leach, members of the Publication Com- 
 mittee, and to Miss Hanna Astrup Larsen for all 
 courtesy and editorial assistance. In this maiden 
 effort to reproduce a literary work of my native 
 tongue in English, their suggestions, especially in 
 the matter of form, have been of exceptionally 
 great value. For shortcomings in the translation I 
 alone am responsible. 
 
 A. B. B. 
 
SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 ^Det gar a«] 
 
 1839 
 
SARA VIDEBECK 
 Chapter I 
 
 '' 'A charming and remarkable intermediate ! Not a 
 country girl, not at all a peasant girl — nor yet en- 
 tirely of the better class,'" 
 
 ONE beautiful Thursday morning in July, a 
 I large crowd of people passed Riddarholm 
 Church and hurried down the hill between 
 the Exchequer and the Public Treasury, so as not 
 to be late at the Maelar dock, where the steamboats 
 lay. All were bound for the Yngve Frey, and ran 
 quickly over the gangplank, for the hour of sailing 
 had struck, and the captain had commanded "Vis- 
 itors off deck!" 
 
 So the visitors said a brief farewell to their friends 
 and went ashore. The gangplank was pulled in, and 
 the steamer started. After a few minutes it was far 
 out on the water. 
 
 "It's no use! It's too late, madam!" exclaimed 
 a few travelers with half-mischievous eagerness, 
 when an elderly kdy was seen coming down to the 
 Riddarholm landing, waving her handkerchief, and 
 indicating by violent gesticulations that she was a 
 passenger who ought to be aboard. There was no 
 boat ready near the shore, and the steamer was 
 shooting like an arrow past the Military Hospital. 
 
 Nevertheless, a certain commotion, though brief. 
 
4 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 was aroused among the passengers when they heard 
 half-suppressed cries from a young woman on the 
 fore-deck: "My aunt! My aunt!" She seemed un- 
 willing, for the sake of propriety, to call aloud, but 
 it was evident that she had been separated in an 
 annoying way from a relative, presumably an ex- 
 pected traveling-companion of some importance to 
 her. 
 
 But we are often so self-absorbed that we forget 
 our neighbors ; and those who purchase tickets for 
 the saloon or stern do not care particularly what 
 happens to the rabble on the fore-deck or near the 
 forecastle. This time the "better" travelers consisted 
 of elderly gentlemen, almost all of whom had sad 
 faces. They were accompanied by wives and chil- 
 dren, not the very yotmgest, perhaps, but boys and 
 girls in that transitional age when naivete has dis- 
 appeared, and has not been succeeded by sentiment 
 and reason. All such people are highly egotistic, 
 and for obvious reasons. Children of this class are 
 generally so incapable of taking care of themselves 
 that they cry for help every moment: now a shoe- 
 lace has become untied, now a glove has fallen over- 
 board; now they are hungry, now thirsty; and the 
 whole world is out of order. Consequently, their 
 mothers have a great deal of trouble, besides the 
 care they have to take of themselves in climbing 
 up and down the narrow stairs of the steamboat. 
 Finally, the fathers of the families try to cheer up by 
 
CHAPTER I 5 
 
 taking snufFand reading newspapers ; but even this 
 seems insufHcient. These passengers cannot devote 
 much attention to others, for they have enough to 
 do in looking out for themselves, their wives, and 
 their children. Above all' they must consider very 
 attentively what they may venture to eat on board 
 without becoming completely bankrupt; for the 
 natural reason that, when the pure joy of the soul, 
 which is the best medicine against disorders and 
 weakness of the body, is gone, one is constantly 
 susceptible, and becomes readily indisposed both 
 from what one does eat and from what one does 
 not. Many gentlemen here still had lingering mem- 
 ories of cholera. No wonder, then, that each one 
 thought of himself and, with a seriousness in his 
 demeanor befitting a Roman senator, considered, 
 pondered, and deliberated, until finally, so far as it 
 was possible, he had decided upon a plan for his 
 food and other important details of the voyage. 
 
 If there had been among the saloon passengers 
 a young unmarried man, he would very likely have 
 taken pity on the poor woman on the fore-deck who 
 had been separated from her aunt; at least he would 
 have found out how she looked and what her name 
 was. 
 
 This time there was no such man on the Tngve 
 Frey. But among the fore-deck passengers was a 
 tall and handsome non-commissioned officer — to 
 be exact, a sergeant — who, on this trip, either for 
 
6 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 lack of money or for other reasons, had not cared 
 to travel better. As he was very agreeable and gen- 
 tlemanly, he conversed with some of the saloon 
 passengers. He was not spurned by these, because 
 his mustache was dark, turned up, and looked al- 
 most beautiful; his doublet was neat enough not to 
 displease the matrons; and a certain manliness in 
 his bearing permitted the fathers, who otherwise 
 would have been stately and stiff, to enter into con- 
 versation with a person who seemed to convey a 
 silent promise not to remain a non-commissioned 
 officer, but in time to become at least a lieutenant 
 if not a captain or major. 
 
 On the fore-deck, the nice young sergeant no- 
 ticed the girl who had been separated from her 
 aunt, and it attracted his attention that she had re- 
 moved the neat little hat of white cambric which 
 she wore at leaving, and after a while appeared in 
 a silk kerchief resembling that worn by a maid- 
 servant. He wondered whether she belonged to that 
 class, or whether she were not a little higher in the 
 social scale. And why did she change her head-dress? 
 
 The sergeant, who had become interested in her 
 through her first misfortune, began to confine him- 
 self more and more to the fore-deck where he 
 really belonged, and gradually gave up his conver- 
 sation with the noblesse of the cabin. "This hand- 
 some girl," he said to himself," appears to me to 
 belong to the upper middle class — probably from 
 
CHAPTER I 7 
 
 some country province — and is on her way home, 
 accompanied and protected by an older relative, 
 who has been prevented by her cup of coffee from 
 getting to the steamboat on time. When this hap- 
 pened, the girl wished to avoid the impropriety of 
 traveling as a young lady without an escort. So she 
 instantly removed her hat, and by putting on her 
 kerchief transformed herself into an ordinary girl 
 like the four or five servant girls on the fore-deck; 
 and as such she could continue to travel at least 
 the length of the Maelar without scandal, though 
 without her aunt." 
 
 Whether this was good reasoning or not, the ser- 
 geant fixed his attention on the little scene. It was 
 never clear in his mind whether the girl was really 
 of the higher or lower class ; but at all events she 
 was neat and tidy in her dark gray capote. The large 
 kerchief of fine pale pinkish silk with a few nar- 
 row green stripes here and there had been tied 
 under her chin and over the comb in the back of 
 her hair to form a tasteful head-dress, such as was 
 formerly called a wimple. This so pleased the ser- 
 geant that he never thought of yearning for the 
 cambric hat. He went down to the captain to in- 
 quire who she was. After examining the passenger 
 list for a moment, he found that her name was Sara 
 Videbeck, and that she was a glazier's daughter 
 from Lidkoping. An unusually circumstantial bit 
 of information in a list of steamboat passengers! 
 
8 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 It happened to be available because she was pro- 
 vided with a passport, which is seldom the case with 
 steamboat travelers, and because she had had 
 sense enough to leave it with the captain during 
 the journey, so as to obtain the greatest possible 
 security for her person. 
 
 The sergeant sat in deep thought down in the 
 dining-hall — mark what I say, dining-hall — where 
 fore-deck passengers might penetrate at mealtime, 
 at least those of sufficient courage and sprightly 
 appearance. It was now about breakfast time, or it 
 could easily become that by ordering a portion of 
 food. The sergeant meditated as follows : " A gla- 
 zier's daughter from Lidkoping — that's a small 
 town far, far from Stockholm. Yes, she is what I 
 took her for — a daughter of the middle class, yet 
 not of the lowest grade. A charming and remark- 
 able intermediate ! Not a country girl, not at all a 
 peasant girl — nor yet entirely of the better class. 
 What is the real status of such an individual? How 
 shall I address her ? There is something puzzling 
 about this intermediate state. Let me see — Bring 
 me a beefsteak ! " 
 
 The breakfast made a fitting pause in the ser- 
 geant's rambling and confused train of thought. 
 When he had finished the beefsteak, he continued 
 to himself: "The deuce! Upon my word, that's 
 just what I am — in between ! What am I, forsooth? 
 I am not a private. Not an officer. I am not of the 
 
CHAPTER I 9 
 
 lower class, and yet nothing really better. Let me 
 see — Oh, the devil — Bring me some porter!" 
 
 After he had drunk his porter, the sergeant got 
 up, twisted his mustache, spat far into the left 
 corner of the dining-hall, and paid for his break- 
 fast. "Hm!" he thought, "Sara— Vid— Vid— 
 has had nothing to eat this morning. I have a good 
 mind to go and find out if she can be spoken to or 
 invited — if she, perchance, can eat — " The ser- 
 geant's reasoning, now as before, was a bit erratic ; 
 it led to no conclusion this time either, and ended 
 in a pause. He inspected his boots, and found them 
 polished; his doublet was brushed and in excellent 
 condition. With two elastic steps the slender young 
 soldier reached the deck, looked about, and cen- 
 tred his attention on the forepart of the ship. 
 
 The first he saw there was a crowd of Dalecar- 
 lian women standing near a group of the above- 
 mentioned four or five servant girls and a couple 
 of begrimed machinists. A head in pink was there, 
 too. The sergeant approached. He heard the Dale- 
 carlian women offer rings of horsehair for sale — 
 black, white,green,and red — with name and motto 
 artistically inserted. They wanted the girls to buy, 
 but the girls stood firm, and kept bargaining about 
 the price. The sergeant did not hear the one with 
 the pink head-dress bargaining exactly, but he saw 
 her examining the rings with great scrupulousness 
 until, finally, she chose a plain one, black and white, 
 
lo SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 without any inscription. The woman from Dale- 
 carlia gave the price as threepence. The head in 
 pink nodded assent, whereupon a little purse — a 
 bag knit of green silk — was pulled from her capote, 
 and a silver coin appeared in her hand, lying neatly 
 on the palm of her lilac-colored glove. The silver 
 coin was of the smallest Swedish denomination, 
 sixpence. ''Can you give me back three pennies in 
 change?" said a pleasant voice, with a Vastergot- 
 land accent of the more agreeable kind and with 
 a slight harshness of the r. "Three pennies in 
 change?" remarked the woman from Dalecarlia. 
 "Ah, my dear girl, I am afraid I haven't got any, 
 but you might just as well buy two rings from me, 
 then it will be just sixpence. Buy! Do buy!" 
 
 "No, indeed!" was heard from the pretty head. 
 The sergeant, who stood behind and saw only her 
 neck, had no other indication that the answer came 
 from her than that her head was bent forward a 
 little. 
 
 Now the sergeant came forth gaily and said: 
 "Permit me. Miss Vid — " he checked himself— 
 "permit me — hm! — to purchase those two rings 
 from the Dalec^rlian woman." He put a sixpence 
 into the woman's hands, and, without further cere- 
 mony, took the two black and white rings, which 
 the woman held up in the air in the hope of selling 
 them. The girl in pink looked up at the soldier, a 
 bit astonished. But he, unembarrassed, immediately 
 
CHAPTER I II 
 
 handed her the ring which she had chosen before, 
 and said: " Was it not this one that Miss Sar — 
 hm! — wasn't it this very one you wanted? Pleise 
 take it and keep it! I will keep the other myself." 
 
 The girl looked at him with rather pretty eyes, 
 he thought. In truth, amazed as she was, she took 
 the ring he offered her; but when he imagined that 
 she was about to put it on the finger for which she 
 herself had intended it, he noticed that, instead of 
 doing so, she withdrew slowly to the railing and, 
 without saying a word, dropped the ring into the 
 lake. 
 
 " Prosit, sergeant ! " he said to himself when he 
 saw the move. " That means that I am thoroughly 
 squelched. Bravo, youngster! Why should I call 
 her Miss Videbeck when she has put on a wimple 
 and wants to be unknown? Rather address such a 
 person as Sara at once, if need be. Why offer a ring 
 to a strange girl ? And right on deck, too ! Shame 
 on you, Albert!" 
 
 He went to the railing opposite, took the other 
 horsehair ring, which he had already put on his 
 finger, and threw that too into the lake. At the same 
 time he spat upon the salute gun which lay close by. 
 Then he promenaded down the deck to the stern, 
 and, when he again approached the fore-deck, 
 chance would have it that he should come right in 
 front of the pink stranger, who stood and watched 
 the working of the machinery. "You see," he said. 
 
12 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 showing his hands, "I too have thrown my ring 
 into the lake. It was the best we could do." 
 
 First a sharp survey from top to toe, followed 
 immediately, however, by an almost imperceptible 
 though tolerably sweet smile, then an exquisitely 
 sparkling look, which instantly disappeared, con- 
 stituted her answer. " Is the ring in the lake? Oh!" 
 she added. 
 
 " I hope a pickerel has already swallowed it," 
 said the sergeant. 
 
 "A big perch took mine." 
 
 "Now when the pickerel swallows the perch," 
 resumed the sergeant, and bowed his head, " which 
 I hope will happen very soon, the two rings will 
 still come to lie — under the same — heart." The 
 last was whispered with a tender protraction of the 
 words, but the sergeant's purpose failed completely. 
 The girl turned away abruptly without answering, 
 and joined the other maids. 
 
 " Prosit, my boy ! " he said to himself." Squelched 
 again! And why speak of a heart ? And on deck ! 
 But one thing pleases me: she did n't take it amiss 
 that I ventured to address her at all. Therefore, 
 don't be faint-hearted ! " 
 
 He went down into the dining-room and bought 
 a cigar, lighted it, came up again, sat down on his 
 trunk with a free and lofty mien, drew long clouds 
 of smoke from his cigar, and seemed content. 
 
 He noticed that the attractive glazier's daughter 
 
CHAPTER I 13 
 
 passed him several times quite unconcerned, now 
 and then adjusting the pink silk knot under her 
 chin and fingering the beautiful lace of her necker- 
 chief, which fell down over her breast. She talked 
 freely with the other girls, and seemed very much 
 at ease. 
 
 The cigar, like so many other things in this 
 world, came to an end. The sergeant threw away 
 the little stump, which was still afire, with the in- 
 tention of tossing it into the lake ; but the stump 
 was so light that it went only a short distance on 
 deck and lay there smoking. At once came a foot 
 in the prettiest little polished shoe, and stepped on 
 it, so that it was extinguished instantly. The ser- 
 geant raised his eyes from the foot to the head and 
 saw the girl stranger. Her glances met his. He rose 
 hurriedly from his trunk, approached her with a 
 polite bow, and said : " Thank you, my dear girl ! 
 My cigar hardly deserved to be touched by your 
 foot — but-; — " 
 
 A cold, scornful expression in her face was her 
 answer. She turned her back upon him and went 
 away. 
 
 " Then the devil take her!" With this thought, 
 the sergeant, blushing and disheartened, leaped 
 down the stairs into the dining-room. Here he 
 crawled into the darkest corner, suitable for sleep 
 or reflection. "Confound it, Albert! " he thought, 
 and brushed the hair from his forehead. " I called 
 
14 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 her 'my dear girl' and she didn't like that any bet- 
 ter than when I called her ' Miss Videbeck ' a little 
 while ago. What devilry!" 
 
 Hewas not alone in the room. He talked neither 
 loud nor low. But in order to display his courage 
 at once, both to himself andto the others, he called 
 outsternly and harshly to the waitress at the wicket : 
 " A cold meat sandwich, and be quick about it ! " 
 
 The waitress came forth with the order on a tray. 
 " Go to the deuce with your sandwiches ! Didn't I 
 ask for one with French bread ? " 
 
 Obediently and politely she went back with the 
 tray and put the hard rye-bread sandwich on the 
 buffet. 
 
 " A glass of haut-brion, my girl ! And don't let 
 me wait so long!" 
 
 The glass was filled and set on the tray together 
 with another sandwich made from an uncut French 
 roil. 
 
 " Do you think I am made to open my mouth 
 over a whole roll ? In Stockholm we have sense 
 enough to cut a French roll in two and spread but- 
 ter on each half." 
 
 The waitress went back again, took a knife, and 
 began to cut the sandwich. 
 
 " I beg — the deuce! — be so kind as to take a 
 new French roll, cut it in two, and spread butter 
 on t-he inside of each piece, please! Why, you 've 
 got the butter right on the outside ! Take another 
 
chapte;r I 15 
 
 roll ! How one has to wait! Hang it — throw ii all 
 away, I am not hungry." 
 
 The girl at the buffet mumbled something sharp 
 about " aristocratic travelers." This was not wholly 
 displeasing to the sergeant ; he came forward and 
 paid for the sandwiches. " I ordered them," he said, 
 "here is the money !" 
 
 "Your stomach is out of order — yes, certainly ! " 
 exclaimed a passenger dressed in black. The ser- 
 geant turned round, saw the collar and recognized 
 the pale but shining face and the round light-blue 
 bird-eyes of the pastor from Ulricehamn. 
 
 "Aha, how do you do! Why, this is Pastor 
 Su — I presume you are going down to the coun- 
 try, are you not ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed." 
 
 " I am also going to Vastergotland, though that 
 does not mean home for me, but away from home," 
 said the sergeant and mechanically seized his large, 
 denounced, but purchased sandwich of the uncut 
 roll, opening his mouth wide over it, and biting it 
 vigorously. 
 
 "That's it," said the pastor; "one goes up coun- 
 try and the other down. I am going to Ulricehamn." 
 
 "Yes, and — " The sergeant emptied his glass of 
 haut-brion, which stood waiting on the tray. 
 
 "As long as one enjoys good health, it is bene- 
 ficial to travel back and forth like this," remarked 
 the pastor. 
 
1 6 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 " Oh, yes, yes." The sergeant now swallowed the 
 last portion of his order. 
 
 " Are you leaving Stockholm for any great 
 length of time, sergeant?" 
 
 " I have three months' leave of absence. May I 
 oiFer you a glass of refreshment, pastor? What will 
 you have? Porter or port wine?" 
 
 " Yes, indeed, one's stomach is unsettled on Lake 
 Maelar. Well, if it must be, then either port wine 
 or porter ! " 
 
 The sergeant ordered both, and the pastor, 
 unable to make a choice, drank both, ending with 
 the warmest and most hospitable invitation to the 
 young soldier to call at Ulricehamn and Timmel- 
 hed and be repaid. 
 
 The sergeant bowed, settled for the order, and 
 darted back on deck in better spirits. 
 
 When he examined the shores they were passing, 
 he noticed that the steamer was about to put into 
 Strangnas. Sailors far out on the lake can see the 
 large cathedral and its majestic spire, which com- 
 mands the whole Sodermanland neighborhood. 
 Only at close range can one discern a number of 
 small red wooden houses straggling below the 
 church ; and the red-checkered college- and school- 
 building alone rises high above the other shed-like 
 hovels. When you finally land at the old, dilapi- 
 dated wharf, you say to yourself, "This is Strang- 
 nas." 
 
Chapter II 
 
 " Here are no marks of aristocracy, none of the su- 
 periority of the higher peerage, none of the nobility 
 of wealth in the rich and proud middle class, no 
 signs of that primitive distinction found among the 
 independent peasantry." 
 
 PASSENGERS landing at the pier see no well- 
 developed harbor, no square, no real street, 
 but only a hill ; and most of the houses impolitely 
 turn their gables toward the visitors. Nevertheless, 
 since the steamer waits there about half an hour, 
 they go ashore. Of course, they find none of the 
 twisted buns for which Sodertalje is famous; but if 
 they climb carefully after their feet are planted on 
 the wharf, keep their eyes open, and do not step in 
 the holes between the rotten planks, they may get 
 up town alive. 
 
 Among those who crossed the dock successfully 
 were the sergeant and one other. As he stood on 
 the fore-deck and watched the gangplank put out, 
 he noticed a short way off the pink head with spark- 
 ling eyes looking up toward the little town. He 
 quickly took courage, deciding to avoid all the pit- 
 falls of addressing her by name or title. 
 
 " Look here ! " he said, turning to her quite with- 
 out restraint. " Look here ! Let us go ashore ! Come 
 on ! There is so much turmoil on the boat just now; 
 they are going to take on wood and attend to other 
 annoying things. Down in the dining-room it's 
 
1 8 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 nasty, too; it 's unpleasant to eat there because — 
 well — I know a very good place up here in Strang- 
 nas. I think breakfast would taste pretty nice after 
 such a long fast." 
 
 She let him take her arm without ceremony, 
 passed over the gangplank and walked closer to 
 him on the unsafe pier, and presently they were in 
 Strangnas. 
 
 "How I like this little town !" she said frankly, 
 and looked about cheerfully. "It is so different 
 from Stockholm." 
 
 "When you get on a little farther it is really 
 quite pleasant," replied the sergeant.' 
 
 " Look — look," she continued. "Oh, I breathe 
 — but — I think — yes — yes, indeed. Lidkoping 
 is still prettier." 
 
 The young soldier, who was delighted to note so 
 soon, and almost contrary to expectations, that his 
 acquaintance was a communicative person, began 
 to find Strangnas very pleasant, as in fact it is. 
 Everything is unpretentious. Coming up from the 
 lake, one passes through only crooked, narrow lanes 
 or streets winding up the hills. No arrogant straight- 
 ness is to be seen in this community. The little 
 houses are old and friendly, and one soon observes 
 that they have not only gables, but also walls with 
 pretty windows in them, and even doors that one 
 feels inclined to enter. Here are no marks of aris- 
 tocracy, none of the superiority of the higher peer- 
 
CHAPTER II 19 
 
 age, none of the nobility of wealth in the rich and 
 proud middle class, no signs of that primitive dis- 
 tinction found among the independent peasantry 
 and exhibited in their manner of life. No, here are 
 to be seen only civic conditions of the most unpre- 
 tentious kind. One gets the impression that all the 
 houses belong to skippers, glaziers, brush-makers, 
 and fishermen. 
 
 Naturally, we refer here only to the part of 
 Strangnas that meets the passenger coming up from 
 the lake and surrounds him until he reaches the tree- 
 covered height about the cathedral. In that neigh- 
 borhood, the bishop's house and a few other resi- 
 dences indicate a better district. But the sergeant 
 and the glazier's daughter on his arm had not yet 
 reached the height. They had not even come to the 
 market-place. Because of her ejaculation on seeing 
 the little house with the white shutters, they had 
 stopped in that remarkable labyrinth of small, 
 crooked streets and buildings which lies in Strang- 
 nas between the shore and the market-plaCe. Here 
 the sergeant conducted his companion to a long 
 flight of steps which led down from the street itself 
 into a courtyard. They crossed the court to the 
 door of a building. "Here," whispered the ser- 
 geant, "lives a rich dyer who keeps a pleasant, re- 
 spectable restaurant. You will see how nice it is." 
 The girl breathed as if in her own home, although 
 sheoften remarked that Lidkopingwasstill prettier. 
 
20 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 They crossed the porch and entered. Inside the 
 house, they went up a staircase to a large lunch room 
 on the second floor. Sara Videbeck saw that it was 
 a kind of tavern. The sergeant approached a neat, 
 cheerful-looking person who was drying dishes be- 
 hind the counter. " Let us have one of the small 
 side rooms here — that on the right — or the one 
 on the left — no matter — and breakfast. What have 
 you got?" 
 
 "Raspberries and cream." 
 "Anything more substantial?" 
 "Roast woodcock — fresh salmon — " 
 "That'll do, but be quick ! And," whispered the 
 sergeant, while he conducted his acquaintance into 
 the side room on the left, but in the door contin- 
 ued talking to the man with the dishes, " two glasses 
 of cherry wine! " 
 
 When both had entered the little room and for 
 the sake of greater comfort — in case others should 
 enter the dining-room — had shut the door, Sara 
 Videbeck took off her silk kerchief and exposed a 
 head covered with dark brown glossy hair, well 
 parted, and without any false curls near the tem- 
 ples (the sergeant remembered they had disap- 
 peared at the same time as the, cambric hat), but 
 with a couple of very neat ones of her own back 
 of each ear. She took off her lilac-colored gloves 
 also, and revealed two small, white, plump hands, 
 which looked as though they had never done any 
 
CHAPTER II 21 
 
 coarse work, but which might bear the criticism of 
 being a little too broad. They were provided with 
 fingers which, though extremely pleasing and beau- 
 tiful with tiny furrows in the joints, were never- 
 theless a bit fleshy. That these fingers had never 
 played the lute, touched piano keys, wielded paint- 
 brushes, or turned over the leaves of fine books, for 
 which narrow and lithe finger-tips are required, the 
 sergeant took for granted. It was still more plain 
 that they had never used a spade, cleaned a stable, 
 pounded washing, or done things of that sort. At 
 the same time, he left it undecided whether or no 
 they had kneaded putty in their day, because putty 
 makes the skin white and soft. So much for the 
 hands. In other respects her person was not short 
 at all nor fat, but rather tall and quite slender. 
 
 The girl was not embarrassed, sitting alone with 
 her sergeant. She broke off a small spray of laven- 
 der from a flower-pot in the window, rubbed it be- 
 tween her hands, and smelled of her fingers with 
 gratification. The sergeant, not to be idle, broke, off 
 a geranium leaf and went through the saiiie process 
 for his own part. 
 
 "A pretty and very neat little room!" she ex- 
 claimed. "Yes, and what a fine chest of drawers ! 
 Is it walnut, I wonder, or oak ? No, I believe it 's 
 polished pear-tree wood — can it be apple?" 
 
 The sergeant, who had never been familiar with 
 carpenter shops, could give no information on this 
 
22 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 matter. Instead he turned to another subject and 
 burst out: " 'Pon my word, a broad gilded frame 
 around the mirror! That's old-fashioned now; it 
 should be mahogany." 
 
 " Mahogany? Oh, not necessarily ! I know a bet- 
 ter way : to make the frame around the mirror of 
 glass also, of thin, clear crown-glass, of pieces left 
 over after cutting out the panes. You put them to- 
 gether to make a whole frame and place colored 
 paper underneath. It makes a very pretty frame. 
 You see, you look in the mirror itself to get the re- 
 flection, but look at the frame also for enjoyment, 
 and you can put any kind of paper you wish under- 
 neath ; they can be made very pretty. Have — have 
 — you not seen them?" 
 
 Here she seemed a little puzzled about what she 
 should call him. But just at this moment the order 
 was brought in. A clean white, though not fine, 
 table-cloth was spread on the table, and upon it 
 were placed newly wiped plates. 
 
 "Just think if the steamer should go off and 
 leave us!" 
 
 " Oh, no," answered the sergeant, " they fire a 
 signal, and after the shot is fired we have plenty of 
 time to get down to the dock." 
 
 The woman who had carried in the dishes of food 
 had now gone out again, and the door was shut. The 
 sergeant took his glass of cherry wine in his hand 
 and said: "Here's to our trip!" 
 
CHAPTER II 23 
 
 Without any ceremony, Sara Videbeck took the 
 other little glass, touched that of her host, nodded 
 jovially, and said, " Thank you ! " 
 
 " Just a word before we drink," interposed the 
 sergeant. " It is embarrassing and annoying not to 
 know what to call each other — and then — I never 
 want to make any one unhappy, angry, or vexed 
 — so — I say, would n't you let me call you Sara — 
 at least as long as we are breakfasting, or — " 
 
 "Sara? Yes, all right." With these words she 
 touched his glass once more; the matter was settled, 
 and the cherry wine was drunk. "By the way, how 
 do you know that my name is Sara ? I should also 
 like to know what your first name is." 
 
 " Albert," answered the sergeant. 
 
 He felt like a newborn man after this burden had 
 fallen from his breast; he walked around the room 
 and became twice as free, happy, and courteous. 
 But on the other hand, the pretty glazier's daugh- 
 ter did not undergo the slightest change. She sat 
 at the table, ate and helped herself, in a very pleas- 
 ant manner, it is true, but without showing any of 
 the higher forms of grace in her movements. She 
 called her new associate "Albert" at every eighth 
 word without the slightest embarrassment due 
 either to bashfulness or haughtiness. She seemed 
 very much at home. ' 
 
 The sergeant, who felt himself superior at least 
 with respect to manners, became all the happier 
 
24 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 from this feeling and said : " My dear Sara, have a 
 few more raspberries ! This cream is pretty good, 
 isn't it?" 
 
 " Excellent ! Thank you ! I remember last sum- 
 mer down at the watering-place in Lund — " 
 
 He went out and ordered more raspberries. 
 
 At this moment the signal was fired on the 
 steamboat. 
 
 " There," she said, got up, and puton her gloves; 
 '* Cancel the order of raspberries." 
 
 " My dear Sara, be seated ! The raspberries will 
 be here immediately, and we shall have plenty of 
 time to get down to the dock." 
 
 " No, no ! It is best to be prompt. Find out how 
 much it costs!" she added, put on her head-dress, 
 and pulled out a handkerchief from which the end 
 of her purse protruded. 
 
 "What?" cried the sergeant. "It is I who — " 
 
 " Quick, quick 1 " She passed by him, went up 
 to the desk in the dining-room herself, and asked 
 the girl at the desk what the bill was. 
 
 " One rix-doUar and twelve pence." 
 
 "Here,my dear," — shepuUedout her green silk 
 purse, — " is one half of it. That 's my share ! " 
 Thereupon she nodded a good-by to the waitress 
 who had carried in the food. 
 
 The nod both to the cashier and the waitress was 
 polite, but of the supercilious kind, and seemed to 
 indicate that she cared very little for either. 
 
CHAPTER II 25 
 
 The sergeant for his part turned pale and was 
 about to stammer forth that it was he who had done 
 the inviting, and he would promptly pay. But Sara 
 Videbeck was already in the doorway. Time was 
 pressing. He paid his half, bit his lips with indig- 
 nation, and passed out after her. 
 
 When they had come out on the doorstep, 
 crossed over the courtyard, and were about to as- 
 cend the stairs to the street, she made a little mo- 
 tion from which it might be inferred that the ser- 
 geant ought to take her arm, which he did. 
 
 "Thank you for taking me to that nice place!" 
 she said in an undertone with a most pleasing voice, 
 and touched his hand as if for a gentle caress." Does 
 a rich dyer live here, did you say? Goodness!" 
 
 " Not at all," he answered. " Why, you paid for it 
 yourself," he added to himself with mortification. 
 
 " Yes, I want to thank you very much ; I was 
 rather hungry. There are nice, kind people here 
 wherever you turn; and the name of the city is 
 Strangnas?" 
 
 '"Yes. I should like to take you around by the 
 cathedral to see the more prominent parts of the 
 town. Up there are beautiful shade-trees to walk 
 under." 
 
 " Oh, dear me, no ! We must get down to the 
 steamboat. They are already waiting." 
 
 Now while they walked through the intersect- 
 ing lanes with rapid steps, Sara nodded cheerfully 
 
26 . SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 to all the little corners she passed, and all of a sud- 
 den remarked: "Albert — let me see — I've read 
 that name in the Almanac, have I not?, Yes, and it 
 was also the name given last summer to the master 
 carpenter Ahlgren's son,'to whom I was godmother. 
 You will see he is a dear boy, Albe, his eyes bright 
 as enamel." 
 
 "Your home Is in Lidkoping, I understand; I 
 take it that you are on your way home?" the ser- 
 geant permitted himself to ask. 
 
 "Careful! Watch your step! " she said, for they 
 were right on the dangerous wharf just now. But 
 they crossed the gangplank without any mishap, 
 and found themselves again on the steamer. It put 
 off, and the paddle-wheels began to revolve. Clouds 
 of smoke and a dull noise formed the swimming 
 dragon's farewell to Strangnas. 
 
Chapter III 
 
 " 'Whoever wants to cut glass, sir, must have a diamond!' " 
 
 THE sergeant had made up his mind to pay his 
 new acquaintance some attention. Therefore 
 he went down to the dining-room and asked for a 
 pound of candy. " It is never sold on steamboats," 
 was the answer. 
 
 "That so? The deuce! Have you any oranges 
 here? Seems to me I can see some lying over there 
 in the basket." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Good ! Give me four." 
 
 When he came up with the friyt in his hand, he 
 found the deck occupied and arranged as follows : 
 the krge portion of the better class — men, wives, 
 and children — had gone down into the dinijig- 
 room. To be sure, there were a few couples at the 
 stern, but they were not exactly engaged in lively 
 conversation, and though not entirely asleep, were 
 absolutely indifferent to everything around them. 
 The women from Dalecarlia nearest the bow seemed 
 to be reclining on the circular heaps of hawsers, 
 slumbering. The four or five maid-servants already 
 mentioned had gathered with their backs against 
 the half-unfolded sail. The captain was presumably 
 in his cabin; he was hot seen on deck. The ma- 
 chinists worked on in their prison. 
 
28 SARA VIDEBECK • 
 
 "But where is my pink friend?" the sergeant 
 asked himself. 
 
 He finally discovered her sitting on a green 
 bench near the railing in the recess behind one of 
 the superstructures over the paddle-wheels. The 
 sergeant found such an isolated place quite agree- 
 able, went there with his oranges, sat down beside 
 her, and invited her to have one. 
 
 She nodded a kind of assent and pulled out her 
 purse. 
 
 "Well, I '11 be damned!" thought the sergeant, 
 with the blood rushing to his face, "do you sup- 
 pose she is going to pay me for those oranges at 
 once, and in cash ? This here lower class can go — " 
 
 But it did not turn out so bad as that. She pulled 
 out a knife with a handle of Britannia metal from 
 her crocheted purse and peeled an orange with it, 
 which she politely handed to Albert. Then she 
 peeled one for herself, cut it in six parts, and began 
 to eat it with a relish. 
 
 "Thank you, my dear Sara!" said Albert, as he 
 received his orange. 
 
 Thereupon he asked, and was permitted, to bor- 
 row her knife to cut up his own fruit. He inspected 
 the knife with a certain feeling of wonder; it was, 
 in truth, very dull. The point was almost round, 
 without resembling that of a table-knife. In other 
 respects it was new and quite sharp on one edge. 
 He did not pay much more attention to it, but said 
 
CHAPTER III 29 
 
 after a moment: "Now, Sara, we must get better 
 acquainted, and you must tell me how closely you 
 are related to your aunt, the one who — " 
 
 "Failed to come along this morning? It will not 
 be difficult, I think, to tell how closely I am related 
 to my mother's sister." 
 
 "Of course not, but — " 
 
 "I am very sorry that she didn't come, poor 
 Aunt Ulla; now she has been obliged to hire a 
 team of her own or travel with the Gothenburg 
 stage, and it remains to be seen where we can meet 
 on the way, if at all. Perhaps she '11 stay in Stock- 
 holm now, since she had such a mishap in the very 
 beginning. You must know that I have another 
 unmarried aunt by the name of Gustava; she lives 
 in Lidkoping and looks after my sick mother while 
 I am away. But this Aunt Ulla has long been a 
 resident of Stockholm, and she was only to take a 
 trip home with me in order to wake herself up a bit, 
 and it was stupid that she should be late, though 
 that happens quite often to poor Aunt Ulla. I was 
 also sorry for my own sake; it is always good to 
 have an aunt or somebody like that along when 
 one is traveling. Yet I was sure, for all that, that 
 I should n't fail to find some passenger on the way 
 who — Eat yourself, Albe! I can't eat up all these 
 alone." 
 
 "Thank you," he said, glad that he, too, might 
 say a word. "Do you come to Stockholm often? 
 
30 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 It is certainly a long distance to Stockholm from 
 Lidkoping ! " 
 
 "I have never been to Stockholm before. It was 
 necessary for me this time to be on the lookout for 
 oil and diamonds and to examine the latest style." 
 
 The sergeant looked at the girl in wonder and 
 was silent, "Oil," he thought; "I must have been 
 entirely mistaken about her condition. Hm ! The 
 latest style?" He measured her figure from top to 
 toe. It was really quite elegant, too, that is, of its 
 kind. Finally he said in a low voice," Diamonds? " 
 
 "Yes, just diamonds, sir ! Ha-ha — perhaps you 
 think that flint will do, eh? No, sir. Flint will do 
 to strike fire, as in the lock of a musket. But, you 
 see, whoever wants to cut glass,, sir, must have a 
 diamond ! " 
 
 Her eyes opened wide and sparkled at these 
 words, as if from a high, inborn self-assurance. She 
 seemed almost proud, although pride never ap- 
 peared in her glance except when she turned her 
 back on some one. Besides, she sank down imme- 
 diately to the plane of intimacy again when she 
 noticed that Albert in his amazement was about to 
 drop his orange. She went on : " Formerly we always 
 used to get our chalk from Gothenburg and could 
 have done so with the oil also; but my mother re- 
 ceived a letter stating that it could be had in Stock- 
 holm for sixpence less per half-gallon, and then I 
 found pleasure in comingup here and investigating. 
 
^ CHAPTER III 31 
 
 since I had an aunt here already with whom I could 
 stay. But I care nothing about this new style of color- 
 ing glass for church windows, which they are said to 
 have invented in Stockholm, and which they talked 
 so much about in Lidkoping. I did n't see any of it 
 in Stockholm. I purposely visited all the churches 
 in that city, and it was not an easy task, because 
 there are such an awful lot of them; but there 
 was n't colored glass in a single one. I don't know 
 where that falsehood originated, unless it should be 
 in Uppsala, whece a professor is said to be painting 
 the windows in a chancel. Naturally, I wanted to 
 learn it; because we have many orders for church 
 windows, both for — yes — and way down near 
 Skara. You see, in Skara there is nobody who can 
 treat glass, and •! knew that it would be a fine big 
 income if we could color glass in our shop. We 
 should then be the only glaziers near enough who 
 could do anything with the new fad, and they would 
 buy from us as soon as anything was broken in the 
 churches. But I will pay no attention to it now; I 
 hear that the custom is not practiced anywhere, and 
 then it is not worth anything. I got some fine dia- 
 monds, though, so that I am quite satisfied with 
 my trip, and then oil — " 
 
 "But what in the name of heaven do you use 
 so much oil for?" 
 
 " For putty, of course. What else in the world 
 do you think oil is used for? " 
 
32 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 " But why does n't your father himself take these 
 long and important business trips?" 
 
 "Oh, heavens, 4ie died six years ago." 
 
 "That's a different matter." 
 
 " And since then my mother, poor thing, has had 
 charge of the shop — with the rights of a widow, of 
 course; so I can say that I alone look after things." 
 
 "But tell me, my pretty Sara, how old are you, 
 if I may ask?" 
 
 "A little over twenty-four," 
 
 "What, is it possible? I took you to be eighteen. 
 With those cheeks — that complexion — " 
 
 "Yes, I had those same cheeks at eighteen. 
 They say that young ladies in the upper class pre- 
 tend to be younger than they are, at least I heard 
 that was the custom at the watering-place in Lund ; 
 but I see little honor in looking old when yoii are 
 young. I think it is much better the other way 
 round. And about how old — if I may ask ? " 
 
 "Am I ? We are about the same age. I am twenty- 
 five yedrs old." 
 
 "And I took you for a person of only about 
 nineteen, who had not yet risen from the ranks. 
 You act so straightforward." 
 
 "The ranks? Well, my dear, to be honest, I 
 have not risen from them yet, and probably never 
 shall." 
 
 "What — what are you, then?" 
 
 "Just a non-commissioned officer." 
 
CHAPTER III 33 
 
 " I have seen some before among people from 
 Skaraborg, and they were respectable men. I re- 
 member near Lund Springs — there were some 
 women loafers there, young ladies who pretended 
 to drink mineral water for this, that, and the other ; 
 at that time there was also a swarm of lieutenants, 
 captains, majors, and people of thkt kind, whom 
 they called officers, from Vastergotland and Skara- 
 borg. These also pretended to be feeling ill and 
 talked to the young ladies. But if I ever saw any 
 non-commissioned officers at the Lund watering- 
 place, they were always first-rate fellows with a real 
 sickness, who did not drink for pleasure." 
 
 " But what were you doingthen at Lund Springs, 
 SaraPI suppose you, being well, had just gone there 
 to enjoy the beautiful scenery?" 
 
 " I was there only one day and earned some 
 money by selling boxes. I had to go there to look 
 after a couple of our apprentices, who had been sent 
 for to put in a lot of window-panes in the assem- 
 bly room that had been knocked out during a pe- 
 culiar game of ball between the guests on the fourth 
 of July. You can never depend on the boys; they 
 break the material, don't understand how to cut it, 
 and manipulate the diamond poorly. Since this was 
 a job of considerable importance, I went there my- 
 self, apd I don't regret it. What do you suppose, 
 Albe? I put in fifty-six small panes: twenty-two 
 of inferior green glass, and listen ! — thirty-four of 
 
34 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 beautiful broad glass. Besides that, I sold ten glass 
 boxes, such as are made only by us in our shop, 
 with stripes of gilt paper underneath, and six big 
 lanterns, which they use when they go down into 
 the cellars for Seltzer water, broth, cheap refresh- 
 ments, and things of that sort. As I was saying, I 
 saw only two non-commissioned officers there, seri- 
 ous fellows w?th gout, both of them from Vaster- 
 gotland Valley. How does it come about that you 
 can be a non-commissioned officer and still be so 
 young?" 
 
 " In Stockholm the younger non-commissioned 
 officers are sometimes accustomed to — especially 
 since — well, you see, I am not very different from 
 an officer — I am a sergeant." 
 
 "Sergeant? Well, that's good enough as it is. 
 Never mind becoming a commissioned officer, a 
 lieutenant, or anything else like that. Those idlers 
 never do anything but talk rubbish to the young 
 ladies in the daytime and to the servant girls at 
 night-time. Trash ! ' Frills galore; nothing more.'" 
 
 The soldier sat half-frightened at hearing the elo- 
 quence and bold sallies of his open-hearted friend. 
 He knew, with respect to himself, that he was only 
 too willing to become a lieutenant, and hoped 
 to win this promotion through his secret kinship 
 with a certain prominent family in the capital. 
 He knew also that he had sufficient funds for 
 the present to make that inspection trip to certain 
 
CHAPTER III 35 
 
 estates on which he had been sent out during his 
 summer furlough. Therefore he did not feel inclined 
 to apply to himself those gloomy rhymes about 
 frills and so on. But he could not deny that the 
 laughing and talking with ladies and servant girls 
 had given him pleasure now and then. He loolced- 
 perpiexed at Sara with her decisive utterances. He 
 examined her face; her happy and friendly eyes 
 seemed to contradict her last severe words. In fact, 
 when he looked upon the red, full, almost beauti- 
 fully formed lips, with the regular, whitely gleam- 
 ing teeth between, and the little tip of a deep-red 
 tongue that peeped out occasionally, a man like 
 him might well be pardoned for the silent ques- 
 tion: "Has nobody in this world ever kissed that 
 mouth?" 
 
 Sara looked into his face also, as he into hers, 
 and finally she asked in a clear, mild voice : "What 
 are you looking at so intently?" 
 
 Quite unexpectedly and boldly he answered : " I 
 am just wondering whether any person has ever 
 kissed that mouth." 
 
 A quickly flitting smile was her only answer, 
 and she looked away over the Maelar waters. In so 
 doing, there was not the slightest coquettishness 
 or glimmer of mischief discernible in her eye, but, 
 on the other hand, nothing exactly romantic or 
 dreamily divine. It was an intermediate something 
 of an incomprehensible character. Not at all ugly. 
 
36 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 nor yet profoundly beautiful. It was of the kind 
 concerning which we are wont to express ourselves 
 with a happy countenance: " Oh, it will do!" 
 
 Encouraged that she did not spurn him or, at 
 least, turn her back on him and go away, the ser- 
 .geant continued: " I could give you much talk, my 
 dear Sara, of the same calibre as what you have told 
 me is used in speaking to young ladies. Indeed, I 
 feel that I am not a stranger to that kind of prattle. 
 But you have made it clear to me how much you 
 hate it. I will not even mention heart, since I re- 
 member my experience earlier to-day — and besides, 
 I believe, to speak frankly, that your heart is of 
 glass ; and as for me, I do not possess the diamond, 
 the only weapon that will make an impression on 
 it." 
 
 "Are you going to stop in Arboga, Albert, where 
 the steamer arrives to-night? " This she asked with 
 a piercing glance. 
 
 "I? Not at all. I am going down to the district 
 of Vadsbo, to certain estates, and then perhaps still 
 farther into Vastergotland." 
 
 "Then we'll go together" — again a piercing 
 glance — " then we can have two horses and a two- 
 horse carriage — and club together — and — be- 
 cause I see you have no vehicle of your own with 
 you. Farmers'gigs are hard to ride in, and postboy- 
 codgers sitting beside me are not to my taste ; they 
 are seldom clean." 
 
CHAPTER III 37 
 
 The sergeant sprang up and would probably 
 have pressed her in his arms if they had not been 
 on deck. " She has a heart," he thought, 
 
 " Sit down, Albert, and we will amuse ourselves 
 by figuring out the cost of our conveyance. Help 
 me, if I make a mistake. My greatest delight is to 
 add in my head. Let's see, now : the first distance, 
 counting from Arboga, is to Fellingsbro ? " 
 
 The sergeant sat down beside her, gay and spir- 
 ited as if he had just received a commission. And 
 at this moment, he thought, she was just as beam- 
 ing or, more correctly, just as charmingly beauti- 
 ful as a girl — according to his taste — ever could 
 be. She was so sensible and wise and yet so capti- 
 vating. 
 
 " Well, are you not going to answer me?" she 
 said and gently struck his hand with one of her 
 lilac-colored gloves, which she had cautiously re- 
 moved earlier when she was peeling the orange. 
 
 "Quite right, the road goes to Fellingsbro and 
 from there to Glanshammar," he said. 
 
 "And then to Vretstorp?" 
 
 "No, no. We must go through Orebro and 
 ^Kumla first." 
 
 "And then Vretstorp, that is certain. Then Bo- 
 darna and Hofva, and then we are home." 
 
 "What, is your home in Hofva?" 
 
 " My home is in Vastergotland, and as soon as 
 I put my foot in Hofva, I shall be home directly." 
 
38 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 Here Sara stretched out one of her little feet and set 
 it down on deck in a very definite Vastergotland way. 
 
 Albert had a new opportunity to admire the well^ 
 made, pretty shoe. "Is that Lidkoping work?" he 
 asked. 
 
 "What's that?" 
 
 "I mean, do they have such good shoemakers in 
 Lidkoping that — " 
 
 " That 's indeed a fine, delightful town ! Have 
 you never been in Lidkoping? Shoemakers — I 
 should say so ! We have tailors, blacksmiths, white- 
 smiths, cabinet-makers, carpenters ; we have every- 
 thing. We have merchants also and a rich inn- 
 keeper on the street to the left of the market-place ; 
 ^although I disapprove of that, because such people 
 live on the ruin and the unnecessary expenditures 
 of others. But the skilled artisan does something 
 worth while and permanent in this world. What 
 becomes of the innkeeper's commodities? He is a 
 commissioner for the Gothenburg stage and keeps 
 a great big ballroom, where officers hold assemblies 
 with ladies. You ought to see those balls! But I 
 don't approve of that hotel business anyway. If 
 people were only respectable, such folks would soon 
 have to move out" of Lidkoping. But now many 
 want to drink, play, and dance, and — there is a 
 tremendously large ballroom there, Albert! If I 
 remember correctly, there are eight bay-windows 
 lengthwise and twenty-four panes in every bay." 
 
CHAPTER III 39 
 
 "Don't you like to dance at all, Sara? " 
 
 "When I have looked after the shop, finished 
 my work, and can be alone, it happens sometimes 
 that I dance; but it is without a violin." 
 
 "She is a genuine Vastergotland product!" 
 thought the sergeant, though at this moment she 
 looked so infinitely sweet, so appealing, that he re- 
 mained silent. Shortly afterward he added: "To 
 think that your mother is so sick! Suppose she 
 should be dead, Sara, when we get — when you get 
 down there?" 
 
 _ " Would to God that might be so, poor thing ! 
 She has never had any real happiness in this life. 
 Anxiety and sorrow and now, finally, nothing but 
 sickness. It is a pretty bad condition, Albert." 
 
 " You talk too distressingly. If she should die, 
 what. would happen to your shop?" 
 
 " Well, that would be the end of the legal priv- 
 ileges, and I cannot get any from the magistrate, I 
 know that. But I have thought out a plan just the 
 same." 
 
 "Indeed?" 
 
 "Yes, I don't mind telling you about that," 
 she continued, moved yet a little closer to Albert 
 on the bench, and looked about, as if fearing that 
 some stranger might overhear her secrets. But 
 since this part of the deck, as stated before, was 
 free from people, she turned to him again, looked 
 very wise and confidential,- and waved her little 
 
40 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 glove in the air, at times gently striking his arm 
 with it. 
 
 V I have found out how a girl like myself, with- 
 out parents or brothers and sisters, can live — and 
 live well," she said. "I am already amply pro- 
 vided with linen and wearing apparel for many 
 years to come, and I don't wear them out fast; one 
 does n't when one is careful. Now when my mother 
 dies I shall not be allowed to cut out window-panes 
 any more or to putty in large houses and new build-, 
 ings ; that 's for the master of the guild. But there; is 
 a unique art, I tell you, which nobody knows in Lid- 
 koping except myself, because I alone have dis- 
 covered it: that of mixing chalk with oil in proper 
 dimen^ — no, proportions — dimensions are applied 
 to the length and breadth of the glass itself, but 
 proportion is applied to the correct mixture and 
 quality of chalk and oil together; those two words 
 are used only in our trade, and you don't under- 
 stand them, Albert — Well, I only want to tell you 
 that I have discovered a proportion of this prepa- 
 ration which no one knows but myself, and which 
 forms a putty so strong that the severest autumn 
 rainstorm cannot dissolve it. I shall prepare that 
 and sell it to all the ofBcial masters of the trade; 
 because they will want to buy it both in Lidkop- 
 ing and Vanersborg and Mariestad, too, once they 
 know about it. And they know about it already, 
 because I have had my assistants noise it abroad on 
 
CHAPTER III 41 
 
 their trips. At home I shall have it for sale in my 
 room." 
 
 "But as an unmarried woman you are unpro- 
 tected, and — " 
 
 "We shall see. On the contrary, if I had a hus- 
 band as unsober and irritable as my mother's was, 
 I should be defenceless and miserable. No, I tell 
 you, I shall get along just as I am. We ourselves 
 own a little place on the Lida River. It is a rather 
 small wooden house, like one of those up there in 
 Strangby — Strang — how was it — why — " 
 
 "Strangnas." 
 
 "And when mamma dies, the place will pass to 
 me. Poor mother! She will live a couple of years 
 yet, and when she does die, I know from what the 
 mayor told me that with a house and lot I need 
 no other protection, though single. The house does 
 not rent for very much ; yet I can let a couple of 
 rooms upstairs and live on the ground floor my- 
 self. But since I am accustomed to having a good 
 time and being among people, I don't want to sit 
 by myself all the time, so I intend to open a shop 
 — a little store — with trade such as women may 
 take care of, which has n't yet been put. under the 
 guild. In my store I intend to sell boxes, fine pretty 
 glass boxes with colored paperpastedunderneath — 
 I have made them forseveral years, and the country 
 people all around here are passionately fond of them 
 — and besides that, lanterns. In fact, I have learned 
 
42 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 how to cover glass with foil, and from that I intend 
 to make little mirrors for people in the parishes. 
 Perhaps I '11 take in all kinds of odds and ends, too, 
 into my shpp to sell on commission, such as cloth, 
 linen, handkerchiefs, neckwear, and home-made 
 goods, so long as I don't touch silk, which is con- 
 trolled by the guild. It will not be such a small 
 business, when people are well treated at the coun- 
 ter; and I '11 sit in my store from ten in the morning 
 till five in the afternoon; to stay longer would not 
 be worth while. Before ten in the morning, before 
 I open the store, I shall mix the putty for all the 
 master glaziers. It will be a good business and a 
 happy life!" 
 
 Sara's eyes, mouth, and cheeks lighted up when 
 she said this. But the sergeant asked: "Do you in- 
 tend, then, to stay indoors all the year round and 
 never look outside or breathe the delightful coun- 
 try air?" 
 
 " At sunrise I take a walk out toward Trufve. I 
 do that every morning in the summer time when 
 the weather is clear." 
 
 "Tru — what may that be?" 
 
 "Why, Trufve; that is Richert's beautiful estate 
 on the way to Mariestad. If only the road from the 
 city out in that direction were not so horribly 
 sandy ! Yet I don't care very much ; I don't use 
 it very often. Many mornings I prefer to stay at 
 home. I have salvia and roses in the windows, and 
 
CHAPTER III 43 
 
 I am going to get some pots of lavender. Besides, I 
 can see the Lida through the windows, and there 
 is no river more beautiful. If I want to see more 
 water, I have the great Lake Vanern to gaze upon 
 when I look through my windows in the direction 
 of the gap near Kalland Island; the latter I can 
 see by just turning my eyes toward the Municipal 
 Bridge." 
 
 "And when you become old, my dear Sara?" 
 " If I live until I am fifty, I expect to travel 
 around to fairs with my goods. As long as I am 
 young, it is better to stay at home in my little 
 store." 
 
 " People like to trade at a counter where there 
 is such a sweet saleslady," he remarked. 
 
 " But at my age it is disagreeable to attend fairs," 
 she continued, turning her face away a trifle. " One 
 encounters — When I am fifty, then I think it will 
 be past; then, on the other hand, business is liable 
 to be poorer in my store, and I shall try the fairs, 
 if I have not before that time laid by a sum, as I 
 hope to have, so that I can live without worry. For 
 one can live simply and still feel very well, as long 
 as — " Her face dropped, and her countenance dark- 
 ened. 
 
 "Well, for heaven's sake ! What do you mean? " 
 "Well, I mean, provided one takes care not to 
 have a tormentor who eats up and squanders need- 
 lessly and carelessly all that one accumulates with 
 
44 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 so much pains and trouble. What good does it do 
 to be orderly when the tormentor is all the more 
 disorderly and feasts upon the labors of the in- 
 dustrious woman? And how can one work with a 
 will without joy of heart and when full of stifling 
 anxiety — " 
 
 " I don't understand you." 
 
 "You don't? Hra." 
 
 " For God's sake, tell me what you mean ! " 
 
 "Well, that IS something to tell, I think. I was 
 out one Michaelmas night with my mother; it was 
 windy, and her hair was blowing about her hood. 
 In despair she ran up toward the Municipal Bridge, 
 which passes over the Lida at home in our town ; 
 I was fifteen years old then and ran after. I thought 
 she would jump down into the water in her terri- 
 ble anguish. But when I came after, she checked 
 herself and took me in her arms, stopped at the 
 hand-rail, and looked round. ' For your sake I '11 
 desist,' she whispered. ' I will live and be tormented 
 until you become a little bigger. But woe and curses 
 upon this thing here 1 I will get rid of that anyway.' 
 At that, I believe, I saw a froth of rage about my 
 mother's lips; she took the gold ring from her 
 finger and hurled it far out into the Lida River." 
 
 The sergeant turned pale; he was reminded of 
 something that had taken place that morning near 
 the railing of the steamer. 
 
 "Your mother seems to have been a little im- 
 
CHAPTER III 45 
 
 patient in the married state/' remarked the ser- 
 geant. 
 
 "Shame — shame on you — sir!" exclaimed Sara 
 with flashing glances. "Albert!" she added soon 
 after, in a milder voice. "A horse that has been 
 kicked twenty times and turns and kicks back the 
 twenty-first time is not impatient. And it is true 
 before God," she said finally, with a hardly audible 
 but fervent and sonorous voice, "that there was one 
 who was continually exhorting and preaching and 
 saying that my mother would be all the better — or 
 nobler, I believe they call it — by this torture, but 
 that was a lie. Because she became worse year after 
 year, I know that much. From being the cleanest 
 and most orderly person she became at last untidy, 
 disagreeable, and careless, so that I used to weep 
 over it." Here Sara wept. "Though once a pious 
 and God-fearing person, she finally would n't look 
 in the prayer-book — and — lately — oh — " 
 
 "Calm yourself!" 
 
 " Up to this very day my mother has been inlaed, 
 and do you know what from? God help us — drunk- 
 enness. That 's not right for a woman, Albert." 
 
 The sergeant rose, felt a cold perspiration under 
 his doublet, took it oiF, and fanned himself with 
 his handkerchief. Perhaps a few of his best plans 
 crossed each other at this moment within his mind. 
 But he was young and had no hardened heart. He 
 had pity on these human beings; nor was he suffi- 
 
46 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 ciently half-learned to come forward with the cus- 
 tomary false phrases about bad being good. Seized 
 by a feeling of wonder and astonishment, he never- 
 theless approached a subject which military men 
 seldom touch on; he sat down confidentially be- 
 side his friend, who had so suddenly become open- 
 hearted, and asked: "Tell me truly and frankly, 
 Sara, are you what they generally call a Dissenter?" 
 
 "A Dissenter — oh, no, certainly not. There are 
 enough of them in Vastergotland without me." 
 
 " But you sometimes read the Bible ? " 
 
 "The Bible? Yes." 
 
 "Then you know God's first great general com- 
 mandment — forgive me, it sounds a little — 'be 
 fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth!' 
 Shall not this commandment be obeyed?" 
 
 After a little consideration, but without embar- 
 rassment, she answered: "Why, that command- 
 ment of God means — " 
 
 "That man and wife shall be together — " 
 
 "But it does n't mean that a man shall live to- 
 gether with just any woman in the world — that I 
 am sure of, nor that a woman shall be united to 
 any man that comes her way through a variety of 
 circumstances and accidents. If I remember cor- 
 rectly, it is intended as a help to man; therefore 
 it does not purpose to bring about his destruction, 
 does it? The destruction of both body and soul, and 
 most of all the soul! No, just as we must avoid and 
 
CHAPTER III 47 
 
 escape great danger, misfortune, and distress, and 
 above all eschew bad and ruinous company, we 
 ought most certainly to be allowed to flee from — " 
 All of a sudden, a loud creaking was heard from 
 the forepart of the steamer, and the captain and a 
 machinist came running. But it was nothing more 
 than a hawser that had broken, whereby the little 
 distended sail began to flutter a bit carelessly, sway- 
 ing back and forth for a moment in the wind. 
 They had now come to one of the large basins of 
 Lake Maelar, Spruce Bay, where, upon crossing to 
 Blacken, there is almost always a strong breeze. On 
 account of the more violent rocking, all the pas- 
 sengers were set moving: the deck was filled with a 
 number of faces that had not been seen all day, but 
 which now, like cave-dwellers, came up from their 
 lower world, the saloon. After fluttering a few min- 
 utes, the sail was gathered in and set anew accord- 
 ing to the direction of the wind. All became quiet 
 again, although the wind was not gentle. But ves- 
 sels that move by virtue of an inner fire care very 
 little for wind or wave ; they go their steady path for- 
 ward whether the wind is for or against, or whether, 
 as now, it blows from one side. In Spruce Bay there 
 are many dangerous places, concealed rocks, and 
 lurking ridges ; wherefore many ships were wrecked 
 here at the time when they sailed without fire and 
 often had to manoeuvre about. Then the most skill- 
 ful navigator, in spite of his knowledge of bays and 
 
48 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 reefs, was unable to avoid them at all times, be- 
 cause, except for the steering-gear, he had nothing 
 at his disposal but big, wide, heavy, wind-tossed 
 sails. Whatever way he turned or manoeuvred 
 them, they often rushed off with him in a direction 
 he did not want to go; for a poor helmsman on a 
 sloop is after all but a man. Now, when the vessel 
 is driven by steam, one goes straight ahead, whether 
 the sails will or no, using them only when the wind 
 is from such a direction that it can serve as mo- 
 tive power. The steersman, to be sure, must still 
 know the marks and lurking cliffs; but knowing 
 where they are he can easily avoid them, if he is not 
 a fool. The only great danger in steam navigation 
 is from fire ; in the construction of the boiler pre- 
 cautions can be taken against this, however, so that 
 it seldom happens. 
 
 They traveled along at a good speed, but the 
 natural consequence of the excitement on deck was 
 that the sergeant and Sara were interrupted in their 
 discussion of humanity-s greatest problem. 
 
 The sergeant, impellfed by his active nature, had 
 run up and caught hold of the sail, to the great 
 pleasure and satisfaction of the skipper. The result 
 was an invitation to drink a pledge of friendship 
 below deck in the captain's cabin. Our story omits 
 entirely the details of the dinner on the vessel, for 
 a deck passenger knows little about it. He notices 
 only from the sun's descent toward the horizon 
 
CHAPTER III 49 
 
 and the lively running of the waitresses with filled 
 cups of coffee that dinner must be over. The draw- 
 ing-room inhabitants have established that custom 
 among themselves; and when a few cave-dwellers' 
 figures, a little happier than usual, or at least not 
 so dark under their eyes, came up from their hid- 
 ing-place about this time, the fore-deck passengers 
 could understand that the gentry had had refresh- 
 ments. Yet it is true, as this narrative has pointed 
 out before, that now and then a male deck passen- 
 ger of a bolder nature may at least go down into the 
 dining-room, quickly and merrily get a mouthful, 
 and come up again. But the women who. belong to 
 the people really have a hard time. The historio- 
 grapher has wondered many a time how they live 
 over there on the fore-deck. It is not considered 
 entirely proper that they take food along to feed 
 themselves. Of the common abundant fare which 
 is prepared in the steamer kitchen they generally 
 get nothing, since they have nothing better than 
 deck accommodations. It may happen that even 
 among these women some one of sufficient dar- 
 ing is found to descend into the world of the cave- 
 dwellers and obtain a tidbit, whereupon she as- 
 cends again into the fresh air. Yet it is not consid- 
 ered modest of her to do so. A charitable custom 
 is serving coffee, which is not food, but very good 
 ■nevertheless, at about four or five o'clock. It comes 
 of itself from the cave beneath and is handed around 
 
50 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 on deck by waitresses, who may be spoken to, if not 
 too sulky, so that even a poor deck mortal may get 
 a cup. Sara was on hand and actually got one; then, 
 too, she looked so well and neat that, except for 
 the headgear, the cofFee-bearers would willingly 
 have counted her among the higher class ladies. It 
 was certainly hard to understand that she, whose 
 purse with silver coins had been noticed several 
 times, had not bought a saloon ticket and become 
 a cave-dweller like the others. Thismust have come 
 about through her love of the open air and her dis- 
 like of bad air and caves in general. 
 
 While she was drinking her coffee and deciding 
 to ask for a second cup,«he remembered with fer- 
 vent pleasure and gratitude Sergeant Albert's sug- 
 gestion to take her on shore to that pleasant little 
 town — she had forgotten the name again — with the 
 small, red-painted cottages. There she had enjoyed 
 getting, without any difficulties, a good, hearty 
 meal. In spite of its name of breakfast, it had 
 meant dinner for her and^ now that the coffee had 
 appeared, made her feel satisfied, happy, and free. 
 The sergeant himself had a more ravenous appe- 
 tite, and, just as he had sought aid from the buffet 
 for the hardships which he endured during the fore- 
 noon, so now we find him there again. This new 
 friendship with the captain permitted him to pass 
 up and down at any time without fear and as often 
 as he wished. One needed a special knowledge of 
 
CHAPTER III 51 
 
 his ticket to guess that he did not really belong to 
 the gentry but to the people. What, how, when, 
 and where he ate is not revealed; it is merely sur- 
 mised that he had dinner. He was young, with 
 healthy requirements such as God has created, but 
 he was by no means a gourmand or drinker and 
 was not voracious, disgusting, or in other respects 
 a cave-dweller. Then, too, he did not seem to like 
 the cabin caves : as soon as he could he came up and 
 left them. He must have been a particular friend 
 of the air that was blowing on the fore-deck, be- 
 cause that is where he stayed most of the time, and 
 where he had lighted his cigar again. 
 
Chapter IV 
 
 "Then he sank down in his chair with a heavy 
 heart, and rested his head against the back. 'You 
 are without a diamond, Albert ! Close your eyes ^ 
 
 and go to sleep and modify your pretensions ! ' " 
 
 SARA ViDEBECK was looking after her things, 
 which she kept in carpet-bags on the fore-deck. 
 She seemed to be particularly solicitous about one 
 of them; for once, when there was no other person 
 so far forward, she took an opportunity to tap the 
 smoker on the arm and say: "Albert, you won't 
 mind if I ask a little favor of you, will you? I have 
 a bag here, the one with the brass initials S, V. ; see 
 to it that no one sits down on it ! From the very 
 start and all day, I have kept it under the sail, but 
 on the last inspection tour they pulled out vari- 
 ous things ; the sail is up, and my traveling-bag is 
 exposed." 
 
 Albert took the cigar out of his mouth, looked at 
 her, and said: "Is the carpet-bag so sensitive that 
 not even so light a body as yours may rest on it? 
 Otherwise it could be guarded best that way." 
 
 " No, no indeed, neither I nor you, and least of 
 all anybody else." 
 
 "Is it full of diamonds?" 
 
 "Oh my, no!" 
 
 " Well, what then ? Forgive me, it 's none of my 
 business. Don't worry, be happy, and go wherever 
 you like ! I '11 guard your bag." 
 
CHAPTER IV 53 
 
 Sara thanked him with a look as if the carpet- 
 bag had been her own heart. She went away to busy 
 herself with certain boxes that she had placed to one 
 side on the deck. 
 
 "I wonder what the girl has in that bag!" 
 thought Aljbert, as he stood looking down on the 
 shining, yellow S. V., and drew an enormously 
 large cloud of smoke from his cigar. " She is, never- 
 theless, a rich girl, I am sure ; there is no doubt 
 about it. I don't care a bit about that though, I '11 
 get enough money from" — here he mumbled a 
 mysterious family name — "and from the estates 
 in Vadsbo, where I have my definite percentage as 
 manager. The initials are pretty well made ; they 
 have brass-smiths in Lidkoping that are worth 
 while. Shall I accompany her all the way there? 
 Otherwise I ought to turn off from the main high- 
 way at Mariestad and go inland. Well, we'll see. 
 It's a long way yet — See here, you girl with the 
 tray ! Bring me up a new cigar 1 I don't want to 
 leave the place. — Oh, the deuce, she did n't hear 
 me ! How will this end ? Then I '11 smoke a little far- 
 ther on this stump, but it tastes hot, and the smoke 
 goes up in my nose, when — damn it! The travel- 
 ing-bag is not particularly large ; quite long but not 
 broad ; she surely has glass boxes in it, since no one 
 may sit down on it. But who the deuce would be 
 impudent enough- to sit down on it? I have never 
 seen the rest of the deck rabble sit down on any- 
 
54 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 thing except the cordage, pump, and cannon. 
 They 're very gentle, kind folk. They take so little 
 liberty with other people's goods that the Dalecar- 
 lian women, for instance, sit down on themselves 
 only, that is, they put their legs under their bodies. 
 What impudent individual could Sara have feared 
 who would have dared — aha — you '11 see, Albert, 
 that she meant you yourself and none other when 
 she made that beautiful appeal to you to watch her 
 bag. Great Lucifer, what a taste ! " he exclaimed and 
 threw the last remnant of the stump into the lake. 
 " This beats my patience." 
 
 Just in this difficult crisis Sara came up to him 
 and — what do you think? — put a fresh cigar into 
 his hand. " I have no light with me," she said. " I 
 didn't want to let the maid from whom I bought 
 the cigar light it for you, because — and besides she 
 does n't smoke. But how will you light it, Albe?" 
 
 " Oh, I '11 show you," he remarked ; "here comes 
 the captain of the craft walkirtg with his excellent 
 trabucos in hismouth. Pardon me, my dear captain, 
 — kindly step a little nearer so that I can light my 
 cigar. This pretty girl has assigned me to a post 
 which, as a good soldier, I am not able to leave." 
 
 "Just a moment, just a moment !" answered the 
 captain. Sara stood and looked on, and she could 
 not help laughing aloud when the two men put the 
 ends of their cigars against each other, watched 
 them with serious eyes, and puffed vehemently to 
 
CHAPTER IV 55 
 
 get a light. The attempt was successful, and the 
 honorable, jovial captain went on his way. With an 
 expression of particular happiness, the sergeant 
 filled both cheeks chock-full of new, fresh smoke — 
 for every one knows that it is the first whiflF of 
 smoke that tastes the best — and blew it out very 
 slowly, but in his absent-mindedness right into 
 Sara's face. 
 
 " O-oh," she cried, and ran away to the other 
 part of the fore-deck to attend to the previously 
 mentioned box^s. 
 
 Consequently Albert again stood alone by his 
 traveling-bag, that is to say, hers, and contemplated 
 the mild, beautiful setting of the sun. They had now 
 come to Galten, at the end of the Maelar basin, in 
 the direction of Arboga. Albert stood watching the 
 sun, as we have said, but pow and then he looked 
 at the bag also. He smoked more slowly now, for 
 he thought: " If this cigar should be finished all of 
 a sudden, it is not likely that I shall get another 
 as conveniently as this one. Yes, most assuredly she 
 has glass in her bag, and I like that better than if 
 she had glass in her breast or her whole heart were 
 made of it, as I believed once. That was a stupid 
 thought of mine — puh ! — but I shall not blow out 
 too much smoke at a time — puh ! — What if her 
 soul is of glass to spme extent, can't I have a dia- 
 mond and cut it as well as anybody else? But I shall 
 not cut deep; the devil would n't have the heart to 
 
56 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 do that on such a beautiful crystal — puh ! — I shall 
 just engrave an A upon the enamel for her mem- 
 ory; I might be allowed to do that, I should think. 
 It is n't too much — puh ! — She is pretty when she 
 is solemn, but prettier still when she smiles that 
 way, and she was prettiest of all when she wept over 
 her mother. It is strange I should like that. One 
 generally looks ugly when one whines — puh! — 
 But the corners of her eyes did n't get red, they were 
 as clear as — Well, the weeping did n't last long 
 anyway." 
 
 " Ease the ship, ease the ship ! " yelled the captain 
 to the helmsman. " Don't you see that buoy, you 
 rascal? Well, It 's beginning to get dark," he added 
 good-naturedly. "It is best now for me to relieve 
 him from steering and go there myself. The mouth 
 of the Arboga is not like other harbors. Alee! Ship 
 alee! For God's sake, stop the engine! Get down 
 from there, I '11 take your place myself. Tell them 
 to take in the jib!" 
 
 " Stop her, stop ! " was heard in answer. The ves- 
 sel slowed up, and the skillful captain, who now 
 stood at the helm himself, had time to right her 
 course so that the danger point was passed success- 
 fully. 
 
 The innermost strait of Lake Maelar at its west- 
 ern end, in front of the Kungsbarkaro and.Bjork- 
 skog parishes. Is full of small shoals, treacherous 
 reefs, and promontories, which are always trouble- 
 
CHAPTER IV 57 
 
 some to the seafarer. These jutting bits of land 
 nearest Arboga River are a continuation of the low 
 Kungsor meadows that spread like a green carpet 
 in the west and almost seem to steal down beneath 
 the water, so that, especially at night, it is impos- 
 sible to see any well-defined boundary line be- 
 tween the grassy shore and the lake. In that case, 
 a sailor fixes his direction from the roof of Kungsor 
 Castle, which is situated but a short distance from 
 the mouth of the river. This time, as always, Tngve 
 Frey proceeded without a mishap. 
 
 Just as the steamer entered the river, a deep, 
 dry voice up in the stern was heard speaking to 
 his neighbor: "How far is it now to the city?" 
 "About nine miles," replied another voice with 
 an expression of extreme politeness and eager- 
 ness. The voice was a soprano, like a woman's, but 
 yet was a man's. " Good!" exclaimed the bass, and 
 looked at his watch. "It is seven o'clock, we'll be 
 there by eight, or at least by nine, and may expect 
 good food and real beds." These words passed be- 
 tween two fathers of families. "If you require it, 
 baron," said the soprano (also a baron), "it will be 
 an easy matter, very easy,if we take the opportunity 
 at Kungsor and send a courier to the city by land 
 to engage rooms for us, for at this time there are 
 a great many travelers." 
 
 "Can that be done, captain?" asked the bass- 
 voiced aristocrat carelessly. "Oh, yes, certainly, cer- 
 
S8 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 tainly, of course," interrupted the soprano eagerly, 
 before the captain at the helm had time to answer. 
 
 " It can be done," said the latter, " though not 
 without a little inconvenience." 
 
 "In what way? " asked the bass, tired of so much 
 talking. 
 
 " Yes, I tell you — without a difficulty, quite 
 conveniently, very easily!" The soprano ejaculated 
 with the most rapid utterance possible. The hon- 
 orable captain at the helm looked about seriously.' 
 "Yes," he said, "a boat may still put ashore, and 
 at the inn up there engage a man to ride to the city, 
 if it is necessary. But I hope we shall be there as 
 soon as he." 
 
 "Oh, yes, yes, oh, yes," said the soprano, "we 
 shall arrive at the landing-place just as soon, I pre- 
 sume, with the help of our good captain. But after- 
 ward much time is lost, wasted, and consumed by 
 landing, so that it is always a good thing — What 
 do you say, baron? Shall we send a courier to re- 
 serve and occupy all the rooms ?" 
 
 "All right ! " said the sleepy bass, and he tucked 
 his chin down into his coat. The soprano jumped 
 up like a happy greyhound, but not farther than 
 to the captain at the helm, which was very near. 
 " Give the order, my dear captain, give the order, 
 the order!" 
 
 The captain, good-natured though he was, 
 seemed annoyed by this fuss, but would not, never- 
 
CHAPTER IV 59 
 
 theless, displease the barons, and called one of his 
 men. " Get the skiff ready and go ashore and — " 
 He gave the man the message. "You will have to 
 follow us afterwards." 
 
 "Yes, the baron will pay for the trouble, of 
 course, of course, of course ! " muttered the so- 
 prano, turning toward the captain, and half point- 
 ing to the bass, who was slouching down into his 
 coat. 
 
 " It is worth something," answered the captain 
 firmly, stroking his chin and looking away at the 
 shores between which he was steering. The view 
 on the right was extensive and attractive. The 
 meadows to an immeasurable distance north and 
 northwest were covered with a million hay-cocks, 
 like the small uncut knots on the reverse side of a 
 large green piece of fancy needlework. 
 
 "And all this Horstadius has acquired ! He is 
 certainly quite a pastor! " said the captain with a 
 nod, as he stood talking to himself. "That man will 
 become either immensely wealthy or immensely 
 poor before he dies. He is a minister who preaches 
 with hay. He can say, as the Scriptures do : 'What 
 is hay is flesh,' because with such a good lease he 
 has an extraordinary income. The Land Revenue 
 or the War Department — I don't know which — 
 has been very kind to him. But I wonder at the way 
 he has acquired estates in all provinces : not only 
 in Kungsor, but also in Sodermanland, in fact all 
 
6o SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 over the kingdom. Has n't he leaseholds way off 
 deuce-and-gone in desolate Uppland, in Sollen- 
 tuna ? I tell yqu Horstadius is an economist ! Then 
 he torments his poor body by riding round on a 
 farmer's gig and knocking about his whole life be- 
 tween his tenant farms to look after things. It must 
 be a damnably hard job to look after farms in every 
 province. While he jolts around in that way, he is 
 still so hard on his own body that he will drink only 
 water. Horstadius is from Vastergotland, that's the 
 trouble. They 're certainly peculiar people in that 
 section! But what I commend in him is this: that 
 he is said to be so honest and kind toward all his 
 thousand overseers, hired men, and inspectors, that 
 in the end he seems to torment nobody- more than 
 himself. Take in the sail, hoist the flag! No, the 
 navigator of a steamboat is less of a martyr. Come 
 over here ! Come and steer! I am going down. The 
 river is clear now all the way to Arboga and easy to 
 navigate." , 
 
 The mate came as ordered, and the captain 
 turned over the helm to him and went away. He 
 walked across the deck and downstairs to the lower 
 quarters, where the toddy was just ready and steam- 
 ing. There was punch there also. 
 
 It ,was evening. The sun fairy had already de- 
 scended into the bosom of the Kungsor meadows, 
 but a dark red and purple shimmer was still notice- 
 able in the sky: it was the' last garment that the 
 
CHAPTER IV 6 1 
 
 fair goddess had removed before she retired to 
 slumber beneath the covering. Thousands of long, 
 reddish-blue bands radiated from the glow. Many 
 of them striped the water, and a few even streaked 
 the articles on the steamer. 
 
 A soft hand touched Albert's shoulder. He 
 started up from the red beams which he had been 
 contemplating for a long time, watching how they 
 rocked and danced on the wavy surface of the water. 
 It was Sara, and she said in a whisper: "You go 
 away from here now ; I '11 take your place, and guard 
 both your things and mine until we come to shore 
 with them. Go down and drink your glass of punch. 
 But as soon as we arrive at the landing, hurry up 
 town and get porters before the other passengers 
 take the men away from us." 
 
 It happened that they we're standing all alone in 
 the bow, so that it would not have been necessary 
 for Sara to resort to whispering. Albert thought 
 that it sounded so confidential and nice, and her 
 pretty face was so close to him during this time, 
 that, without stopping to think, he kissed her, and 
 went away, as she had told him to. 
 
 As if nothing had happened, Sara Videbeck, over 
 in the bow, began industriously to attend to a num- 
 ber of matters of more or less importance. She put 
 her own carpet-bags, boxes, and outer garments to- 
 gether. She carried also the sergeant's trunk, trav- 
 eling-coat, and medium sized knapsack to the same 
 
62 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 pile. How she knew them is a question. Her obser- 
 vations during the day had been sufficient for her 
 to notice about what objects he had been most con- 
 cerned during his rounds on deck, the things that 
 he had lifted, moved, arranged, and so forth, which 
 an honest man never does to anything except his 
 own belongings. 
 
 Albert actually went downstairs and got a glass of 
 punch. " Mamsell, kindly let me have two glasses 
 more, and put them on this little tray. I '11 carry 
 them myself, so that no one will be bothered." The 
 waitress at the buffet, happy at such a mild tone 
 of voice from a traveler who had been so severe 
 before, hastily did as she was told. Albert took the 
 tray, carried it upstairs with the dexterity of an ex- 
 perienced waiter, and went forward to offer it to his 
 traveling companion. " Is it Carolina ?" she asked; 
 "I don't drink punch." 
 
 " Oh, have a glass of punch -for my sake this 
 evening; it 's going to be cool to-night. It 's fine ! " 
 
 " Good !" she said, after the glassiiad been emp- 
 tied. " Albert, this is better than Carolina." 
 
 "That's just what I have always maintained," 
 answered the sergeant, and he emptied the other 
 glass. 
 
 Now the cannon fired a salute for the city of Ar- 
 boga, and the steamer put into port on the right 
 shore, as was customary, below the Lundborg es- 
 tate. 
 
CHAPTER IV 63 
 
 The sergeant, agile, vivacious, and in excellent 
 humor, was the first to jump ashore. After search- 
 ing awhile in the nearest thoroughfare, he found 
 two idle Arboga men, with whom he soon came to 
 terms. They followed him down to the steamboat 
 with a barrow, which they secured in the neighbor- 
 hood. When he came on board, Albert at first could 
 not find the person he sought. With some amaze- 
 ment he looked about in the dusk for the pink 
 head — it was not there. Finally, however, he saw 
 Sara Videbeck on deck — wearing her hat. Al- 
 though the two men were waiting for orders, he 
 could not help standing a few moments to survey 
 his transformed friend. To be sure, he had had a 
 view of the same person for a few minutes that 
 morning, but then he had seen her without interest. 
 Now — " Is that she ? " he thought. Once warned, 
 however, he would not take her for a young lady 
 of the upper classes under any circumstances. But 
 the neat white cambric hat looked very becom- 
 ing on the pretty, active, and delicate head, and 
 a few tasteful dark locks were hanging near her 
 temples on each side, just as was right and proper. 
 Albert indicated to the two men the direction they 
 had to go. Sara, with an accent on the third word, 
 said: "These are our things; be careful they are not 
 scratched on the barrow I" 
 
 " No fear, dear madam," said one of the porters. 
 
 " If you will point out the one you are most con- 
 
64 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 cerned about," added the other, " we will put that 
 one on top." 
 
 Albert smiled to himself, but he saw a rather 
 acid and austere expression on Sara's face. They 
 went ashore. "Where do you want to go?" asked 
 the porter in front. 
 
 "To the hotel." 
 
 "Oh, you don't live here? Then I must say," 
 continued the man, "that you will have to hurry in 
 order to get accommodations for the night in the 
 hotel, because a great many travelers have arrived." 
 
 " I '11 follow with the things," remarked Sara, 
 "You hurry ahead, Albert! We '11 find our way to 
 the hotel." 
 
 The sergeant did so. He passed through the long 
 Arboga streets and came, after a while, to the place. 
 
 "None to be had, none to be had !" was the inn- 
 keeper's answer to Albert's request for rooms. 
 
 "But I come from the steamer and must have 
 accommodations." 
 
 "Well, if you came from the sun or hell itself, 
 it would not increase the number of our rooms. 
 Here are Baron X and Baron Y and Baron Z, who 
 have already engaged all the rooms for themselves 
 and families. And as for the rest of Arboga — well, 
 look around, my dear sir, I doubt very much, 
 though, because of the fair in — hm-m-m — great 
 throngs of people have flocked in." 
 
 "Well, I shall be satisfied with just one single 
 
CHAPTER IV 65 
 
 room — I myself can sleep in some loft," he 
 thought — "but clean and nice, no matter if it is 
 small. Please, money is no object." 
 
 "Has your mistress any room left anywhere, 
 Annette? " asked the host, looking into a side room. 
 " Some deucedly pompous noblemen have quite 
 monopolized the place, otherwise we have room 
 enough ; but they belong to the noblesse of the 
 vicinity, therefore you see — " 
 
 "No," answered Annette, "there is none." 
 
 " But I must have a room,confound it ! " said the 
 sergeant decisively, and entered himself. "Only 
 one bed is needed. It is impossible not to find that 
 in a large, spacious, and beautiful hotel like this. 
 I have been in Arboga before, and know that a 
 long passageway on one side of the courtyard leads 
 to thousands of rooms in here." 
 
 " Well, well, my dear sir," said a little roly-poly 
 in a cap, the hostess of the house. " Go, Annette, 
 to the very end of the passageway and see whether 
 my own room can be put in order. In an emergency 
 I suppose I must sacrifice my own rest." 
 
 Annette and the sergeant left. He found quite a 
 nice big room, gave his approval, and returned. He 
 had scarcely arrived at the door before he met Sara 
 and the porters. He showed them the way up the 
 flight of steps that led to the boarded passageway 
 which, like a loft or arcade, extended along that 
 floor. The walk had made Sara cheerful again and 
 
66 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 had given her the ruddiest of complexions, but her 
 face was once more clouded over with indignation 
 at the porter's polite request : 
 
 "You go ahead, my dear madam ! " 
 
 Soon, however, she resumed her natural ex- 
 pression and, accompanied by Albert and Annette, 
 entered the designated chamber, which she found 
 excellent. Briskly and joyfully she arranged their 
 baggage near one of the walls. The men were paid 
 and dismissed. Annette informed them that one of 
 the little private dining-rooms below had just been 
 vacated, and they both went down and enjoyed a 
 meagre supper, which they might well need, Sara 
 Videbeck especially. 
 
 Half an hour passed. From the dining-room they 
 went up together, and Annette walked ahead to 
 open the door. 
 
 "I hope you will be satisfied!" said Annette. 
 "We have nothing better on account of the nu- 
 merous travelers. I '11 be up directly with a light." 
 Thereupon she made a curtsy, stepped out, and 
 left them together alone. 
 
 The broad and beautifully made bed indicated 
 what the polite Annette took them for. Albert, in 
 order to remove all embarrassment instantly, said: 
 " My dear Sara, I '11 sit in a wagon below or spend 
 the night in a hay-loft. The stupid way those poor 
 people address you annoys me just as much as you ; 
 but it is not my fault that broad-winged barons 
 
CHAPTER IV 67 
 
 have taken all the rooms, so that I could get but 
 one single room, and that only after a great deal of 
 trouble. Still I hope you will, enjoy yourself here, 
 remain undisturbed, and sleep well." 
 
 Meanwhile Sara had removed her hat and put 
 it on a chair. She came up to her traveling com- 
 panion with a friendly gesture, and answered: "Do 
 as you wish, and sit out there wherever you like, 
 Albert. I can well imagine that you will make a 
 fuss about this one nice, pretty room, and think 
 it 's stupid because there is only one. If you, like 
 me, had been born, brought up, and lived all your 
 life in one single room, which. in daytime served as 
 a workshop and at night as a sleeping-chamber for 
 all of us — because the rooms thatwere left at home 
 we had to rent to get money — then you would n't 
 pay so much attention to this trifle. And though you 
 are perhaps not exactly like many others, I under- 
 stand that you have been educated with various 
 foolish ideas. Therefore, my good Albert — well, 
 you do as you wish ; but I assure you that if you 
 remain in here instead of sitting out there in the 
 wet and disagreeable weather overnight, I shall not 
 mind it at all; and I wish you would look at it in 
 the same way ; by so doing it means least." 
 
 " If you remain here, I shall not mind it at all ! " 
 passed like an echo through the sergeant's soul, and 
 a remark so crushing to his self-respect, so cruel 
 and depressing, made him speechless. 
 
68 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 "Albert!" she continued, going close to him 
 and taking his hand," do not misunderstand me, and 
 do not wonder! With the exception of those nights, 
 a long time ago, when papa was still living, and for 
 the most part stayed out, but nevertheless came 
 home once in a while and kept on brawling, fight- 
 ing, alas ! and swearing, up to four o'clock in the 
 morning, I can assure you that otherwise it was so 
 quiet at night in our workshop, where we slept, that 
 not the smallest piece of glass was broken, I am used 
 to that; but you go out if you wish, my dear Albert, 
 because you attach a great deal of importance to 
 this trifle, and I cannot change your opinion." 
 
 It was his turn to smile; he could not help it. 
 He released her hand. "Very well," he answered, 
 " but first of all I '11 go down to engage horses for 
 to-morrow." 
 
 "Yes, of course, you must go at once!" inter- 
 posed Sara hastily; " to-morrow it will be too late to 
 get everything in order. We must be ready early. 
 Stay wherever you wish to-night, but take the key 
 to our room along when you go out, so that no one 
 else can come in by mistake, and tell the chamber- 
 maid down there that she need not bring up any 
 candles. I can see well enough to go to bed." 
 
 Albert left. In the door he turned. There she 
 stood in the middle of the floor and dropped a 
 curtsy : " Good-night, Albert! We '11 see each other 
 to-morrow ! " 
 
CHAPTER IV 69 
 
 He bowed, closed the door, and took out the 
 key. "Incomprehensible woman!" he muttered 
 between his teeth. " Good-night ! We shall not see 
 each other until to-morrow morning! Is that an 
 invitation to comp back to-night? Her first refer- 
 ence seemed to incline in that direction. I '11 go 
 and make a round of the yard." 
 
 Down there he gave the order for the horses, and 
 told Annette that no candles were needed, but that 
 coffee should be carried in at exactly six o'clock in 
 the morning. Then he roamed about in the yard to 
 find a vehicle to sleep in. But none was to be had. 
 To be sure, he could see through cracks in the shed 
 some upright carriage poles, indicating that there 
 was a supply of various elegant carriages, but they 
 were locked in. He went down the sloping court- 
 yard. It looked as if it would be a rainy night. He 
 came to the stable and knocked on the door. " Go 
 to the devil," growled an intoxicated stableman 
 inside. 
 
 " That 's a deucedly respectable innkeeper to shut 
 up all his sheds, doors, and lofts as early as this. 
 Prosit, sergeant, here you are in for some fun, and 
 you are cut off from all humanity. I 'II go up for a 
 minute and see how Sara puts up with it and how 
 she receives me. Then I '11 come down here again 
 to enforce obedience from this confounded, 'go-to- 
 the-devil ' stableman." 
 
 He was driven to this decision by curiosity; and 
 
70 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 yet he walked back and forth several times upon 
 the rough, abominably paved courtyard, where he 
 often stubbed his toe, and talked to himself. "She 
 said ' Good-night,' that 's true, but I noticed that 
 her voice trembled a little at that moment, sweetly 
 and incomprehensibly, as if from the inner recesses 
 of her heart. That may be interpreted according to 
 one's pleasure, as a parting adieu does not neces- 
 sarily signify a complete indifference or a definite 
 good-night. It may be just the opposite. I have 
 a good mind to put her to the test, torment her, 
 and not go up. 'We '11 see each other to-morrow!' 
 — therefore not to-night? But before that, however, 
 it was left to my own choice to determine which I 
 wanted to do. I will test her : I '11 go up for a minute 
 or half a minute." 
 
 He walked slowly up the stairway, down the 
 long passageway, put the key carefully in the lock, 
 turned it, and stepped in. Here all was quiet. He 
 approached in the dimness. Sara's clothes lay neatly 
 on a chair, taken off, and folded. What about her- 
 self? He stretched his head forward to see. She was 
 already asleep with her face turned toward the wall. 
 
 Albert's first feeling was a fresh ecstasy, for, not 
 being a poet and still less a religious dreamer, but 
 just a plain non-commissioned officer, he was irre- 
 sistibly impressed by such a wonderful and simple 
 freedom, such pure and unfeigned ^virtue. She — 
 without knowing whether, after all, he might not 
 
CHAPTER IV 71 
 
 return, which he now actually did — had serenely 
 and sanely gone to bed and fallen asleep immedi- 
 ately, without inner revolt, without fears, without 
 wrangling, and without ceremony. 
 
 But Albert's next thought was not so pleasant. 
 He concluded then that she had been quite posi- 
 tively in full and dead earnest when she said that 
 it would be of absolutely no concern to her if he 
 stayed inside. Consequently, what was he to her? 
 The same as a chair — a table — a doorpost — a 
 something of that order. 
 
 Crushing ! Annihilating! The most beautiful girl 
 allows a chair to be present at her toilet without 
 embarrassment ! Altogether too flattering to enjoy 
 the same favor! 
 
 Quiet and depressed, Albert removed his boots 
 and coat and took a turn around the room. Since 
 he had just been dreaming about chairs he went in 
 search of one, and finally came upon one of these 
 historical armchairs with enormous backs that date 
 from the seventeenth century and are still found 
 in old castles and small towns, where they have 
 landed through the mighty distributing agency of 
 the auction. 
 
 Slowly he carried his big chair up to the window, 
 sat down, and looked out through the panes at the 
 sky, intending to go to sleep. Alas, he could not 
 even yawn. The chair was soft, but he felt a prick- 
 ing sensation at his heart, and the whole room, as it 
 
72 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 were, enveloped him with a dark, cold repellence. 
 He cast his eye toward the bed. It was shining 
 white on account of the hostess's clean, newly 
 mangled pillow-cases. In both respects, it seemed 
 to him that it was dead and meaningless. 
 
 He sat this way awhile and shut his eyes, so as 
 to be doing something. But he could see never- 
 theless. What did he see? A long arabesque was 
 unrolled before his inner eye. There appeared all 
 the individual happenings of the past day, and 
 Sara's image was constantly renewed, but so mild, 
 so happy. In the beginning there was the moment 
 in Strangnas, when she let him call her Sara ; then 
 when she gave him the cigar, then — and so on, and 
 so dn. "Can it be possible, after all, that she hates 
 me?" he asked. 
 
 "Stupid sergeant!" he cried half aloud, and 
 stared up at the cornice. " Hates me? certainly not. 
 Does one hate a chair? Does one hate a table? Does 
 one hate a piece of furniture? An indifferent — a 
 nothing — a me!" 
 
 He listened in order to discover if, after all, she 
 might not be slumbering restlessly in any way. But 
 there was nothing of the kind discernible. "Sara 
 Videbeck is not one of thosewho dream," he sighed, 
 and closed his eyes again. " No doubt, after all, she 
 has a glass heart, hard and cold, shining but lifeless. 
 She certainly does not care either for hating or lov- 
 ing. What sort of a person is she herself, then? She 
 
CHAPTER IV 73 
 
 Is a chair, insensible to feeling, just as she has con- 
 sidered me, and has told me so candidly. Virtuous? 
 How can I call a chair virtuous? She is not at all 
 the kind I mean, neither good nor bad. How can 
 I call a nothing virtue or even vice? — But pardon 
 me, sergeant, you are wrong," he went on a little 
 while afterwards, — "she is not, as you say, a mere 
 negation; do you remember, for example, those 
 sparkling glances — that warm mouth ? — Now and 
 then — no, she has senses enough, you may be sure 
 of that — but if I am the right one, ah, that's a dif- 
 ferent question. But what sort of a creature is she, 
 then? Lewd? Heavens, no! I cannot believe that. 
 She is an intermediate something that I should n't 
 understand if I pondered my brains to pieces. I 
 should like to become a poet again. Why, I am 
 only twenty-five years old ! " 
 
 "Oh," he continued, "if I could only go to 
 sleep ! To-morrow all will be well." In spite of his 
 desire, he was now gazing most intently through the 
 window and up toward the sky, which had become 
 clearer, while a few stars had begun to show. He 
 rubbed the pane of glass with his hand to remove 
 all mist. "What is this pane in itself?" he began 
 to meditate. "What is a pane of glass in this world? 
 That is also an intermediate, an intermediate be- 
 tween insideand outside, strangely enough, because 
 the pane itself cannot be seen, and yet it constitutes 
 a definite boundary between the little human world 
 
74 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 Inside and the infinitely large Outside. In the pane 
 itself I can see nothing, but through it, neverthe- 
 less, I can see the stars of heaven. The pane is in- 
 significant, perhaps contemptible, but for all that 
 not exactly an inferior object, it seems to me, nor 
 yet of any great value; in fact, it is, I think, just 
 like myself! Oh, I should so like to inscribe my 
 name on the pane ! I have only a piece of flint in my 
 vest pocket. I have a good mind to find out if she 
 told the truth when she insisted that glass could not 
 be cut with it." 
 
 He took up his flint and tried it. Either the flint 
 was too dull, or he was afraid of making a noise 
 by greater exertion; in a word, he could make no 
 mark. Then he sank down in his chair with a heavy 
 heart, and rested his head against the back. "You 
 are without a diamond, Albert ! Close your eyes and 
 go to sleep and modify your pretensions!" The 
 scene before his inner eye grew dimmer and dimmer, 
 and the forms inside gradually more dull and gray. 
 His pulse beat quickly; his heart worked very 
 slowly and sluggishly. The universe became rather 
 uninteresting. He fell asleep. 
 
Chapter V 
 
 " 'Oh, there will remain very, very much for which 
 we shall thank each other heartily, I think, much 
 that no money can repay/ " 
 
 THE next morning there was a gentle knock 
 on the door. Albert started in his chair, and 
 the bed coverlet yonder was seen to stir slightly, 
 too. The key had been left unintentionally in the 
 lock outside. The latch was carefully lifted, the 
 door opened, and in stepped Annette with a coffee 
 tray. 
 
 " Pardon me, my dear sir and madam, for being 
 late with the coffee!" she said, fluent and officious, 
 as waitresses sometimes are in small towns. " I see 
 you are already up, sir. I beg your pardon ! I know 
 that travelers always prefer to have their coffee in 
 bedjbutHeaven knows howit happened this morn- 
 ing, it Is already half-past six ; all the barons kept us 
 busy last night for a long time, before everythirig 
 was fixed to please them. I certainly hope it may 
 taste good to you and be clear!" 
 
 Sara raised her head and seated herself against 
 the pillow. Annette went over to the bed, made 
 a curtsy, offered her refreshments, and turned that 
 side of the cake-basket where the nicest rusk lay 
 glistening toward the "dear madam" for her to 
 help herself. 
 
 Meanwhile Albert had put on his boots. A 
 hardly perceptible nod from Sara's head constituted 
 
76 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 a quiet good-morning. This slight smile from her 
 new-awakened, happy countenance was for him a 
 refreshing aurora. He thought he noticed that she 
 was beckoning to him ; he went over and sat on the 
 broad side of the bed, whereby the part that had 
 been unused during the night was pressed down. 
 Now Annette served him his coffee. He took some, 
 and it tasted good. 
 
 "Would you like some more?" she asked offi- 
 ciously in the door. 
 
 "Why not?" said Albert. 
 
 She went out. 
 
 After a moment's embarrassment^ he remarked : 
 " My dear Sara, I realize that you are annoyed, and 
 rightly so, at the false titles that people give you 
 and me; but during the journey we shall be spared 
 many troublesome explanations and stupidities if 
 we just let things remain as circumstances have 
 started them — or — " 
 
 " I have realized the same thing," she answered, 
 "and I am not vexed. I should not have wanted 
 to circulate a lie for anything, but now that it has 
 given birth to itself, then — and — Albert, I am 
 very glad that you did not misunderstand me a 
 moment ago or take it amiss, when I beckoned 
 you to come over here and press down that part 
 of the bed — this is a terribly wide and fine bed, 
 I have slept like a queen — otherwise, she would 
 have thought we were queer people." 
 
CHAPTER V 77 
 
 Albert put on his coat, approached the door, and 
 said: "I '11 go and see that they hitch up." 
 
 He did so. The horses he had ordered were 
 ready, and also the wagon with the bottom full of 
 hay and straw and two seats consisting of ordi- 
 nary hard country chairs. " She does n't like these 
 country things, I have heard that; the innkeeper 
 must find me a seat with a cushion," he said to 
 himself. 
 
 He went away, and, after a few minutes' par- 
 leying, he obtained one. It was fastened securely 
 over the forepart of the wagon with a halter strap. 
 "But," Albert reflected again, "it shakes cursedly 
 here right over the axle between the front wheels. 
 It is better to have the postboy sit here and drive, 
 and then we can sit farther back between the axles. 
 Otherwise I like best to sit in front and drive, but 
 God only knows whether she likes to have the 
 horses' tails so close, almost on her feet. Especially 
 when you go down hill, and the horses hold back, 
 you have them way up on your knee. Such things 
 amuse me, but I am sure that she will not care for 
 any such rural pleasures. I '11 go up and inquire 
 where she wants to sit." 
 
 It may be that here the sergeant's polite thought- 
 fulness bordered on childishness. But anyhow he 
 ran up the stairs quickly and gleefully, reached the 
 door, unlocked it, and went in. Sara was already 
 standing there, dressed and ready from top to toe, 
 
78 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 except that her hat was not yet on, and the long 
 braid was not pinned up. 
 
 " Now a real good-morning ! " she said. " We have 
 not greeted each other yet. I have seen through the 
 window that the wagon is already waiting. But" — 
 she added in a mild, very slow, and slightly falter- 
 ing voice — "you fared pretty badly for my sake 
 last night, did n't you?" 
 
 Her whole person, as she stood there, radiated 
 profound gratitude combined with the pleasure of 
 an unlimited confidence in him; and yet there was 
 mixed with that expression not a little feminine 
 jocosity. 
 
 Albert did not answer. But it was impossible for 
 him at that moment not to do what he did. He sud- 
 denly took her in his arms and kissed her. 
 
 The next moment Sara Videbeck went over to 
 survey their baggage and consider how all should 
 be placed in the vehicle to be carried most securely. 
 When Albert stood in the doorway, ready to fetch 
 the postboy who was to carry down their luggage, 
 she called him back and said : 
 
 "I have considered something. It is best that 
 you alone make the entries in the hotel registers 
 during the journey and pay for the post convey- 
 ances, because postboys can very seldom add, and 
 they make me so angry, when I have to help them, 
 that I lose my temper. But here is my portion of 
 the fare from here to Mariestad : one horse for me 
 
CHAPTER V 79 
 
 for ninety-three miles at a shilling a mile makes 
 seven and a half rix-dollars ; carriage toll, two Shil- 
 lings; horse-and-team conveyance from the cities 
 of Arboga and Orebro (those are the only cities we 
 pass through) and night accommodations makes 
 altogether eleven rix-dollars and threepence. Here 
 you are ! I don't think I have figured wrong, because 
 I am used to it and know how. You count it your- 
 self!" 
 
 Humiliated and with drooping head, the ser- 
 geant did not answer, but neither did he raise his 
 .hand to receive the silver coins that were rolling 
 out of the purse. 
 
 "My dear Albert," she remarked sorrowfiilly, 
 " perhaps I have been mistaken, and you are not 
 going so far as Mariestad. I thought I heard you 
 say sometime yesterday that you were going to the 
 Vadsbo district and as far down as Mariestad. I 
 figured out pur joint expenses for teams as far as 
 that. If I have been wrong, then tell me — " 
 
 "It was not that I was thinking about," he 
 answered. " But I do not deny that it would have 
 pleased me to pay for all the cursed teams myself 
 for the time being and out of my money, for I am 
 not exactly ready for the debtor's prison, and then, 
 when I could no longer ride in your company, we 
 could have settled the matter between us after- 
 wards — and — '' 
 
 Sara stared at him. "Oh, is that it?" she said 
 
8o SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 finally and cast a half-sorrowful glance a little to 
 one side. "No, Albert, don't talk such nonsense! 
 All settlements afterwards are difficult for people 
 who like each other. You would be just as embar- 
 rassed. In fact, I should feel on pins and needles for 
 fear that in the end I might not be allowed to pay 
 it after all. To be indebted like that is unbearable." 
 
 " But good Lord, Sara, are mutual services then 
 — is — yes — gratitude between human hearts such 
 an unbearable thing?" 
 
 " Gratitude — Albert ! " — her eyes were raised 
 now in a strangely wonderful manner — "there, 
 are debts that can never be paid ; then gratitude is 
 sweet, and to be externally indebted to any one is 
 sweet. X.et some one else be indebted for carriage 
 fares, money for food, rent, and careless extrava- 
 gances — not I. Oh, of course, if I had no money, 
 I should have to put up with circumstances and 
 accept some; be put to shame; blush, and express 
 gratitude; weep, and express thanks. In order to 
 avoid that, I intend never to be idle, and I expect 
 to earn money as long as possible. Don't speak 
 about it, take the money here in my hand, Albert, 
 and be a man — Oh, there will remain very, very 
 much for which we shall thank each other heartily, 
 I think, much that no money can repay." 
 
 The tear that hung suspended and sparkled from 
 the ends of her long, dark eyelashes while she was 
 speaking did not fall; it withdrew gradually back 
 
CHAPTER V 8 1 
 
 into the eye. Accordingly, without weeping, the 
 lustre of her eye was intensified, and it glistened 
 with a celestial light. 
 
 Albert began to comprehend that it was not dis- 
 honorable at all to receive that money. He took 
 it; in fact, he even went so far as to count it very 
 carefully, as if he had taken it from a shopkeeper's 
 hand. He found the sum correct and endeavored 
 to utter in a very cold and strong tone: "Your ac- 
 count is correct, Sara." 
 
 She understood the victory he had won over 
 himself and rewarded him with a peculiar nod. " I 
 knew that," she said, " but it does no harm for 
 two to add; then it will always be done better." 
 Now she grasped her long braid of hair, coiled it 
 neatly beneath her comb in the back, put on her 
 hat, and walked toward the door. 
 
 The sergeant forgot to ask about the position of 
 the seats. They went down into the courtyard and 
 told the postboy to go up after the baggage. He left 
 and came down with one thing after another, all 
 of which Sara arranged in the long vehicle, while 
 Albert went to the hotel-keeper, paid the bill, and 
 made an entry in the register. 
 
 " I suppose I ought to see your passport," said 
 the host, " but for people of your kind it is not 
 really necessary." 
 
 " Why, certainly, look at it, if you want." Al- 
 bert unfolded his pass before the eyes of mine host. 
 
82 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 He began to read it. " Serg — serg — yes, that 
 is all right. To be sure your wife is not mentioned 
 here, but that makes no diiFerence. It is altogether 
 satisfactory." 
 
 " Yes, my dear host," remarked Albert, " to 
 tell the truth, when I secured my pass I intended 
 to travel alone. But you know one often changes 
 one's mind, and so I took her along afterwards, al- 
 though I did n't want to bother the police to make 
 out a new pass." 
 
 " Of course, that goes without saying. What dif- 
 ference does it make ? We don't question respect- 
 able people who travel decently and pay their bills 
 about their passports. A pleasant journey to you, 
 sergeant! I hope you will be satisfied with the 
 horses. They are my own." 
 
 " Oh, is that so, sir ! Well, then I may pay for 
 the team at once as far as Fellingsbro, so that will 
 be settled." 
 
 "Oh, no, it's not necessary; although it might 
 be just as well: the postboy is given to drinking." 
 
 "Here you are — eight miles — and here is a 
 little over for — Where did Annette go? Kindly 
 take this for her! " 
 
 " Thank you very mucli. Have a glass on me, 
 sergeant, if I may offer it ! It will do no harm so 
 early in the morning. Say, may I not bring out a 
 glass and offer your wife ? I have some fine mal- 
 aga. 
 
CHAPTER V 83 
 
 " I am afraid that Sara will not care for any so 
 early." 
 
 " She'll have to get used to it, sergeant. Here 's 
 to you ! I wager that your wife is from Vastergot- 
 land. It's an excellent choice you have made, ser- 
 geant. Now I only hope the country wagon will be 
 satisfactory and not shake you too much ; but when 
 you have no conveyance of your own, you have 
 to be satisfied. I married a girl from Vastergotland 
 myself; that's where you find the best people. I am 
 related to some one, I am sorry to say, who is re- 
 lated to Horstadius himself. I have seen you be- 
 fore, sergeant — tall, handsome, and strapping fel- 
 low ! And I hope I shall have the pleasure again — 
 on the journey back — good-by — good-by !" 
 
 The sergeant could not refuse to drink; but the 
 innkeeper's almost paternal graciousness and inti- 
 macy oflFended him a little and reminded him dis- 
 tinctly of his own status as a non-commissioned 
 officer. 
 
 Out in the courtyard he saw Sara already sitting 
 in the wagon. 
 
 The innkeeper followed with his glass on the 
 tray, "Permit me! Permit me! " he said, smiling. 
 
 But Sara turned away her head and remarked 
 with mortification and in an undertone, " I have 
 no time to spare for such things — especially in the 
 morning." 
 
 Albert felt rebuked, but said nothing. Taking the 
 
84 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 reins and whip, he mounted the wagon. He drove 
 out through the hotel gate, and in his distraction 
 came near striking it. 
 
 "Oh, look out! Look out — this won't do!" 
 she cried. 
 
 The sergeant was mortified, because he boasted 
 of being a good driver. He jerked the reins and 
 gave the horses a crack with the whip, and off they 
 went through the gate and over the Arboga road 
 toward thewestern toll-gate like a whirlwind. Mean- 
 while the wagon was, of" course, shaking and jolting 
 up and down. 
 
 " Drive carefully, sir," cautioned the man who sat 
 in the seat behind, as he half rose. 
 
 " Mind your own business, you fool ; sit down 
 andkeep your mouth shut!" growled the sergeant. 
 
 They were now on the main highway, which was 
 level and in good condition and permitted a toler- 
 ably rapid speed without jolting. The postboy kept 
 quiet and went to sleep, the more peacefully as the 
 horses were not his own. Sara had been sitting a bit 
 stunned ever since they left the gate, and an appre- 
 hensive glance now and then to the right consti- 
 tuted an attempt to find out whether Albert was 
 actually angry. 
 
 When the sergeant was driving horses he was 
 generally so occupied with this pastime that he 
 neither saw nor listened to anything else. For a 
 half-hour, a whole hour, not a word was uttered. 
 
CHAPTER V 85 
 
 Sara said once," It is dusty!," This truth was irre- 
 futable and consequently required no further com- 
 ment. 
 
 After a time Sara spoke again, "It is terribly 
 dusty ! I believe I '11 take off my hat." 
 
 Although the sergeant, who meanwhile had re- 
 gained his temper fairly well, did not answer the 
 remark, he asked, nevertheless, "Perhaps you 
 would prefer to sit in the back seat? I notice that 
 the black horse is constantly whipping your shoes 
 with his long, untrimmed tail." 
 
 " I have nothing against that; he whisks off the 
 dust." 
 
 "Well, all right. Then perhaps you don't care to 
 sit in the back seat?" 
 
 "Beside the postboy? Have you not room to 
 drive here in the front seat as it is?" 
 
 "Oh, yes, but the postboy could sit here and 
 drive, and we could sit in the back seat; it would n't 
 shake you so much, Sara." 
 
 "I can't say that it shakes very much. It was 
 worse on the streets of Arboga." 
 
 " But if you should take off your hat on account 
 of the dust, as you say, what good would it do? 
 That would not make the dust any less." 
 
 " No, but a white cambric hat that is dusty must 
 be washed, and that is a great deal of trouble, for 
 it must be cleaned in the lake itself with a brush. 
 On the other hand, the dust will come off a silk 
 
86 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 handkerchief by slapping it against your hand a 
 couple of times." 
 
 "Well if you wish to change your headgear, I '11 
 stop at once and we '11 get out." 
 
 "Suppose I should put up the umbrella and 
 hold that against the dust? " 
 
 "Dust does not act like rain," interrupted the 
 sergeant, "which falls only on the top of the um- 
 brella. Dust comes up underneath and, what is 
 more, right around your head; I don't like an um- 
 brella in fair weather." 
 
 Sara was silent. They drove on for a quarter of an 
 hour without conversation. At this point the post- 
 boy woke up and caused a terrible commotion in 
 the back part of the wagon. 
 
 "What is he doing with our things? "cried Sara, 
 as she turned her head. Albert held in the horses 
 and looked back; the man had only turned over 
 on his left side to try to take a nap in that posi- 
 tion. 
 
 Here Albert got rid of his gloom, laughed at the 
 grotesque position that the Arboga sleeper had 
 assumed beneath his turned-down hat, and said: 
 "Well, Sara Videbeck, now that we have finally 
 stopped, we '11 stay a little while; the horses can re- 
 cover their wind. We have been driving fast. In the 
 meantime you will have an opportunity to make 
 any change you please on account of the dust." 
 
 He jumped off, went around the wagon, and 
 
CHAPTER V 87 
 
 offered his hand to his companion to help her 
 down. She stood up, but for a long time sought a 
 foothold for the shining toe of her shoe; the hub of 
 the wheel was full of grease. The sei'geant thought 
 she was searching too long, so he dropped her hand, 
 seized her instead, and lifted her to the ground. 
 "Now you will see that after riding so long you '11 
 have difficulty in standing." 
 
 "Oh, I feel pretty well; I think I can stand with- 
 out any trouble. You certainly drive fast, Albert, 
 especially on — You know the magistrate of Lid- 
 koping has made a law against travelers speeding 
 through the streets." 
 
 " He is a stupid magistrate, Sara. I shall avoid go- 
 ing to Lidkoping. But frankly, are you not thirsty 
 in this confounded dust? I know a little spring up 
 here on the hill. Don't you think that these en- 
 virons are very pretty?" 
 
 "Are these en — en-virons? Is it far to Fellings- 
 bro?" 
 
 "Have you, then, no love for beautiful land- 
 scapes?" 
 
 "Landscapes?" she asked, and looked about 
 carelessly. "They are very seldom painted in a 
 natural manner, Albert. Ever since papa's time 
 mamma used to have a couple of landscapes hang- 
 ing in the workshop at home, but I have had them 
 carried up into the garret." 
 
 "Oh, I see. But don't you think that we have a 
 
88 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 good view here? Just look in that direction — there, 
 to the extreme west, lies the beautiful Frotuna, for- 
 merly the estate of Dalson, now of Count Herr- 
 manson." 
 
 "It seems to me that we have a view whichever 
 way we turn. Tell me, is n't this a parish? In Vas- 
 tergotland we always have parishes as soon as we 
 get out of the city. Every parish has its own guild- 
 master in shoemaking and tailoring, who may keep 
 apprentices, but no traveling journeyman. I am 
 glad the parishes have not come to the point yet 
 where they keep a glazier of their own, at least not 
 the parishes near Lidkoping, so far as I know; 
 for I have sent out assistants many times to Rada, 
 Asaka, Goslunda, Safvared, Linderfva, Hofby, 
 Trassberg, and way down to Skallmeja, to put in 
 glass for them." 
 
 Meanwhile the sergeant had gone up to the 
 horses and talked to them, for it seemed impossible 
 to make the pretty girl enter into any sensible con- 
 versation about the beauty of the country scenery. 
 It should be noted in her favor, however, that the 
 neighborhood between Arboga and Fellingsbro is 
 not exceedingly beautiful. 
 
 "Which way did you go up to Stockholm, Sara?" 
 he asked after a moment, "when she had put away 
 her hat in the proper box, and in place of it had tied 
 a large, light gray, neat and glossy silk handker- 
 chief over her head. 
 
CHAPTER V 89 
 
 "Which way did I go up?" she asked. 
 
 "Yes, Sara; did n't you take the same route up 
 to Stockholm that we are taking now? It seems to 
 me that you are a little indifferent to the road and 
 scenery here." 
 
 "I bought a ticket on the 'Thunberg" she an- 
 swered, " and got on outside of Kalland Island 
 when it was passing on the way from Vanersborg. 
 Then it sailed back and forth with me continually 
 until it came to the Riddarholm in Stockholm." 
 
 "In Arboga you seemed to know all about the 
 inns and towns that we passed by or through on 
 this route." 
 
 "Why, of course, I ought to know something 
 about them, when I intended to return this way, 
 and I took this route because I have business in 
 Orebro and Hofva. I am to sell some looking-glass 
 material there for Selin ; that can pay for the trip. 
 And it 's an easy matter to find out about the hotels. 
 Just look here, Albert ! I have made a list of all 
 the places, with the distances, which I took down 
 in Warodell's store in Stockholm, according to in- 
 formation I received. And I went over that list by 
 heart last night before I went to sleep." 
 
 Albert looked at her list and found a very read- 
 able woman's hand. "And this is what she lay and 
 fixed in her memory before she went td sleep last 
 night, just when I — "It was a crushing thought 
 that passed through Albert. "You certainly did not 
 
90 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 busy yourself with very intepsting subjects, before 
 you went to sleep," he said aloud, with an acid 
 glance. 
 
 " I went over all of them, both distances and 
 names ; it was not tedious. Then I figured out in 
 my head my part of the carriage expenses, to know 
 how much to give you in the morning before the 
 start; it was fun — I thought of you, and was soon 
 sound asleep." 
 
 "Yes, of course, the latter was enough to put you 
 to sleep immediately," remarked Albert.Now the 
 horses had rested sufficiently, and the sergeant, not 
 in the best of humor, or at least provoked by 
 people's ability to sleep, went over to the postboy 
 and brought him to life by a substantial cufF. "Jack, 
 Dog, Cur, whatever your name is, is this the way 
 to sleep when you are coachman for travelers ? Get 
 up, and get out of that seat ! " 
 
 The boy, only half awake, obedient and slavish 
 as servants in the cities are, and astounded at the 
 rough tone of voice, jumped out of the wagon. 
 "What, sir?" said he. 
 
 "Well, I '11 tell you! Untie these halter straps 
 and change the seats ! Put your farmer's seat there 
 in front, sit in it yourself, and drive. The road to 
 Fellingsbro, is now so level and good that the big- 
 gest idiot can drive. I like to drive only when it is 
 difficult and requires skill. Now be quick about it, 
 I tell you, you sleepy rascal! Tie this cushioned 
 
CHAPTER V 91 
 
 seat in the back, right over the rear wheels, and 
 we '11 sit in that." 
 
 The boy gradually became polite and promptly 
 executed the "officer's" commands. Sara Videbeck 
 never uttered a word during this whole conversa- 
 tion, but smiled slightly now and then at certain 
 hints that she understood. 
 
 They climbed into the wagon and seated them- 
 selves according to the new arrangement. The post- 
 boy drove now, and in so doing soon became quite 
 impressive. He wanted to show his cleverness; he 
 cracked the whip, manipulated the reins, and "away 
 they went like the devil himself," as the poet says. 
 
 They came to Fellingsbro presently. "Look at 
 those large, pretty, red brown houses ! " were Sara's 
 first words after the long silence. She referred, ap- 
 parently, to two Fellingsbro buildings that turned 
 their gables toward the highway. They stood sym- 
 metrically, with their clean, square, and spacious 
 yards between themselves and the garden In the 
 background, and were protected from the farmers 
 and the traffic by a fence along the road. 
 
 Albert gave no answer to her exclamation about 
 the houses; he alighted, settled business matters 
 quickly, and got horses to Glanshammar together 
 with an equally good carriage and seat. Again they 
 stepped In. The new driver, a brown and wrinkled, 
 but spirited old man, had to drive his horses him- 
 self, but nothing was lost by that, for he traveled 
 
92 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 down the good road at a fairly lively pace. After 
 a time, the road turned off to the left and south 
 and entered the woods. The old man talked inces- 
 santly to his horses in dull, deep tones in a language 
 that was understood by them, although it was not 
 Swedish. However, it cannot be. reproduced here. 
 Glad at the opportunity of managing the horses 
 alone, the old man saw nothing but the road and 
 them. 
 
Chapter VI 
 
 "'What! Is she capable of shuddering?' thought 
 Albert. ' Well, God be praised ! Then she is, after 
 all — What makes you shudder, Sara?' he said 
 aloud." 
 
 HOW I like these woods, Albert!" remarked 
 his companion, while they rode on from Fel- 
 lingsbro and entered the Kaglan forest. The words 
 were uttered in an almost caressing voice ; she evi- 
 dently felt that it was tiresome to go for such a long 
 time without conversation. 
 
 The sergeant looked in her direction and 
 thought, " After all, she has a feeling for a beauti- 
 ful country 1 " Half appeased, he said — no, he said 
 nothing, though he came near talking. 
 
 After a few minutes she added in a more fervent 
 and tender voice, "Because here we are shaded 
 from the sun and escape the dust !" 
 
 "Oh — nothing more than that! " meditated the 
 sergeant, and remained silent. 
 
 Sara Videbeck pulled off her gloves, because her 
 fingers were perspiring. She folded them together 
 and put them inside her capote. Then she began to 
 wave her two white, chubby, dimpled hands up and 
 down in the air to cool them. 
 
 After a time, as if he had been aroused from his 
 thoughts, Albert said mildly, but mysteriously: 
 " Tell me, my dear, good Sara, do you never hap- 
 pen to dream at night?" 
 
94 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 "Yes, indeed I do!" 
 
 " But I presume that it was a long time ago, was 
 it not? Perhaps you have never dreamed since you 
 were a little child?" 
 
 " I? I had a dream last night in Arboga." 
 
 "Ah! — Well, won't you tell me what itwa;s?" 
 
 Sara kept her hands still ; she let them lie in her 
 lap, clasped together. " I can't tell you my dream," 
 she said in a low voice, "but it was a very nice 
 dream." 
 
 Albert remarked, "As far as I am concerned, I 
 did n't dream after I had gone to sleep, but I cer- 
 tainly did before that." 
 
 "Oh — I can never believe that. Although," she 
 interrupted herself, " every one dreams in his own 
 way, and I suppose that is best." 
 
 The sergeant took one of her hands. " When you 
 were dreaming last night, did you also have both 
 your hands folded this way?" 
 
 "I don't remember where I had my hands — 
 though I think I do remember after all," she added 
 quietly, almost fervently. 
 
 " I '11 bet you did not dream you were in a forest, 
 at any rate, and not that you were in the country 
 either!" 
 
 "Nor on the lake, -Albert ! No, I dreamed I was 
 in a small, small room with flowered wall-paper, 
 and I was grinding dhalk — " 
 
 "Pshaw!'" 
 
CHAPTER VI 95 
 
 "And — still, Albert — I may as well tell you," 
 she continued in the same tone without noticing 
 the quivering of his nose, " I dreamed a great deal 
 about you." 
 
 "I suppose I was grinding chalk, too!" 
 
 She looked up at him with large, glowing eyes, 
 but lowered them as if dazed. Imperceptibly she 
 suppressed the tears that were beginning to form 
 and, recovering, said,"I understand very well,it'sbe- 
 cause you are an officer. I was hoping you were more 
 of a non-commissioned officer than you really are." 
 
 This language was pure Greek to the sergeant, 
 and the wondering glance he gave the girl told her 
 she had uttered riddles. She withdrew her hand from 
 his. 
 
 "That 's the way with dreams," she said, appar- 
 ently to herself, "and when we wake up it 's entirely 
 different. Therefore every one should be free and 
 live his own life in his own way and not spoil things 
 . for another. People can be good friends just the 
 same, and that is the best way. It is pleasantest 
 when all goes well and one does not trouble one's 
 neighbor." 
 
 Albert shook his head. "She is still dreaming," 
 he thought. 
 
 But she continued, " I suppose God knows what 
 He wants people to be, but I certainly don't. It is 
 best, however, to live as God intended when He 
 made us." 
 
g6 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 These generalities seemed so ridiculous in the 
 
 sergeant's ears that he came nearlaughing aloud, but 
 
 out of respect for the expression on the girl's face, 
 
 which was very thoughtful, he refrained and tried 
 
 ' to pursue his own line of thought. 
 
 "There is one bit of information you must give 
 me, Sara Videbeclc," interposed the sergeant. ^' Your 
 mother lived an unhappy life with your father; I 
 gathered that from what you told me yesterday. 
 But you must not therefore think all evil comes 
 from men — " 
 
 " I knowthatwell enough," she answered. "Why, 
 I know the family of the master turner, Stenberg. 
 His wife is such a quarrelsome hussy that the man 
 is in danger of losing his life on account of her. And 
 it is n't much better at Sederbom's, where the 
 wife is a bit simple-minded, and the man is frantic 
 from grief. And there are the Spolanders — and 
 the Zakrissons. It is the same everywhere, if one 
 only comes close enough to them to see them in 
 their cages. They never stop until each has made 
 an utter wretch of the other. I can never approve 
 of that." 
 
 " Did your father, Sara, treat your mother badly 
 at first?" 
 
 " God only knows. I was not born then and did 
 not see them in the beginning. But I think my 
 mother too, poor thing, had her faults, although 
 she tried to improve. I am sure she was always 
 
CHAPTER VI 97 
 
 respectable, but nevertheless wasteful and hard to 
 get along with. So far as I can judge, her manner 
 was never very gracious nor particularly pleasant. 
 And so father, who had his own peculiarities, grad- 
 ually became one of those — and thoroughly wicked 
 and finally mad — ugh!" 
 
 "This is getting too distressing, Sara dear. Let 's 
 forget Lidkoping ; we have not got there yet. Do 
 you know the name of these woods?" 
 
 "Yes, I think God will forgive me for being 
 what He has made me. That is, when I do as well 
 as I can, of course. But it is unnecessary for me 
 to torture another into the nethermost hell or for 
 another to drive me into it. I don't care what the 
 name of these woods is, Albert, but I know that 
 God has made the stars and the whole heavenly 
 Host. All that is beautiful and good on earth has 
 been created by God, and Christ has come for our 
 salvation. Although I am not a Dissenter, I can 
 well understand that Christ has nothing against 
 the people who love each other and thus fulfill the 
 first commandment. But when it is carried out in 
 such a way that they make devils and madmen out 
 of each other. He cannot approve of it Himself. 
 People have invented so much nonsense to cause 
 each other's misery, and worst of all, they imagine 
 that it is for their benefit. So far as ,you are con- 
 cerned, Albert, you are younger as a man than I 
 am as a woman, though you may well be a year or 
 
98 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 two older in actual age. For that reason, you are not 
 so wise as I am, though you may be familiar with 
 other things that are more beautiful and pleasant. 
 Still you must not think that I am unhappy ; I am 
 as free and bold as a bird, and I assure you I intend 
 to keep my wings. If you can fly too, well and good, 
 but if you are only a babbler, you might just as 
 well say so at once." 
 
 Long and eloquent pause. 
 
 " I have seen that you can become offended and 
 angry," continued the glazier's daughter. " I have no 
 objection to that, provided your anger is at some- 
 thing worth while. Although," she added in a lower 
 voice, "it is impossible to calculate or predict what 
 will be the cause. I ,have observed and experienced 
 that sufficiently. What will merely scratch the nail 
 of one person may penetrate to the very bottom of 
 the heart of another and burn him up like poison. 
 I presume God knows best how He wants His 
 people, but I certainly don't understand it." 
 
 The sergeant suddenly felt twenty years older 
 than a little while before, and said, "Sara, I will 
 tell you what my circumstances and feelings have 
 been. I am not an official, and when it comes to 
 domestic affairs you probably don't hold rank in 
 very high esteem anyway, judging from your ac- 
 count of both your father and other guildmasters 
 in Lidkoping. But neither am I an officer, which 
 in your language means that I am neither an idler 
 
CHAPTER VI 99 
 
 nor a babbler, at least not much of one. In short, 
 I am a non-commissioned officer pure and simple. 
 I cannot remember now exactly what made me like 
 you so much yesterday, and I am afraid that if I 
 were to tell you it would sound like nothmg at all 
 to you. You — with your lively way of talking and 
 your love of moralizing — have the characteristics 
 of the Vastergotland border as much as any girl can 
 have, but I am such a queer chap myself that I am 
 none the less fond of you on that account. Now, then, 
 you ought to ask me what sort of person I am, and 
 where I was born. You have not asked me about 
 that, and I must confess that your indifference has 
 offended me a little. However, we have long ago 
 ceased to talk of minor wounds; so I wish to tell 
 you plainly that though I have no large wings with 
 which to fly, I am not entirely without down. My 
 service for the crown is insignificant, but it gives 
 me the right to wear a uniform, and in the drills I 
 have learned how to carry myself. That is what a 
 man needs most of all, and with that — unless he 
 is a sl;upid, helpless cuss through and through — 
 he can climb as far as he likes in the world. For any 
 one who wants to can easily acquire knowledge. 
 Manners and customs are more difficult, and for an 
 example I need not go any further than to your- 
 self, Sara. You have not had a chance, I think, to 
 learn much of the world during your apprenticeship 
 in the workshop, but still it is n't saying too much 
 
loo SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 when I tell you that I have never seen any girl 
 with a finer bearing than you, I have seen a good 
 many girls and been in a good many places, so you 
 may depend upon my judgment. But, coming back 
 to my own prospects, I am now on my way to the 
 Vadsbo district, and afterwards I am going down 
 as far as Grafsnas, SoUebrunn, and Koberg. I take 
 a kind of business trip annually — both for pur- 
 chases and inspection — well, I can't explain it any 
 more thoroughly — to certain estates and properties 
 that belong to the S. family, to which I am dis- 
 tantly — very distantly, Sara — related. From that 
 I draw a certain amount of income, besides the plea- 
 sure of looking around. I have never wronged any 
 one and never intend to as long as I live. Beyond 
 that my ambition does not go. Still, if after a few 
 years I shall have saved a little, it may happen that 
 I shall buy a little place in Timmelhed over toward 
 Ulricehamn, where I have acquamtances. I don't 
 want to persuade you to go there, since you seem 
 to shun the country — ^just as I have no particular 
 love for small towns except as a traveler, and gen- 
 erally get out of them as soon as I can. As for your- 
 self, you are happy and kind when conditions are 
 in any way favorable, and that is at least one point 
 which we have in common; there are probably 
 more, if we only find them out. Whether you wear 
 a silk wimple or a hat, I like you just the same. I 
 have noticed that you write a good legible hand. 
 
CHAPTER VI loi 
 
 And finally, I am fond of planting flowers in the 
 spring and summer — " 
 
 "In pots?" 
 
 " The devil, no, in the open ground, or at most 
 in hothouses, if the plants are of the kind that can- 
 not stand the cold earth. Perhaps some in pots also 
 to have in the windows!" 
 
 "White stock — gillyflowers?" 
 
 " Exactly, they are very nice and fragrant in a 
 room. In that case — " 
 
 "Yes, in that case the windows must have panes 
 of pure, absolutely white glass, Albert, because 
 greenish, coarse glass, which some poor townsmen 
 have to be satisfied with, is such a contrast to the 
 beautiful flowers that it is better not to have any 
 in your windows. Otherwise I like lavender very 
 much, because it has flowers of a grayish-blue color, 
 which is more suitable for rooms where one has 
 to live on a small income. Oh, Albert, you ought 
 to see my little room — ' I have gillyflowers ! But of 
 course, you are going only as far as Mariestad, and 
 then I shall have to ride alone on the dreary, sandy 
 coast between Mariestad and Lidkoping — Oh, 
 it's such a bad and ugly road! I get frightened 
 when I think of the journey I have to take there." 
 
 "Why should I stop at Mariestad ? That is not 
 definitely decided yet. Neither does the ugly road 
 commence immediately on the other side of Marie- 
 stad, as you say. We pass the beautiful Kinnekulle 
 
102 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 between Mariestad and Lidkoping, besides many' 
 pther places." 
 
 "Well, it may be that Kinnekulle is there some- 
 where, but it is certainly flat in those parishes, I 
 remember it, because I once rode from Lidkoping 
 to Mariestad. It would be a trifling matter anyway 
 whether it were flat or not, but I shudder- at the 
 thought that — " 
 
 " What! Is she capable of shuddering? " thought 
 Albert. " Well, God be praised ! Then she is, after 
 all — What makes you shudder, Sara?" he said 
 aloud. 
 
 "Well, I suppose I can tell you, even if it 
 sounds childish. I think it tedious to ride in a 
 farmer's cart with a peasant beside me. That 's why 
 I seldom attend to business myself in the neigh- 
 boring districts, but always send the journeyman 
 or one of the more reliable apprentices, although I 
 have suffered great losses that way ; but you can't 
 do everything." 
 
 "What? For heaven's sake, have you suffered 
 great losses?" 
 
 " Yes, indeed. I don't suppose there is any one 
 in Lidkoping for whom careless boys have smashed 
 more glass before it could be put in. But that mis- 
 chief can be endured, it does n't go to one's heart. 
 Now I shall see how my poor mother feels when I 
 arrivfe." 
 
 " Perhaps she will die soon, and, as you said, it 
 
CHAPTER VI 103 
 
 will probably be the best thing for her. Then you 
 will be alone in the house. But to return to our jour- 
 ney, what will you give me if I go with you, not 
 only to Mariestad but way down to Lidkoping?" 
 
 "Ah!" This little exclamation of joy was invol- 
 untary; still Sara recovered herself immediately, 
 looked at her traveling companion, and said, " First 
 of all, you shall receive my share of the expenses — " 
 
 "Of course." 
 
 "And — if you don't mind, you shall have a 
 gillyflower spray, in a new box, for which I have 
 cut the glass myself, lined it with gilt paper, and 
 glued the sides together." 
 
 " Even with that I am not entirely satisfied. Oh 
 well, we shall think of something on the way; we 
 still have many miles before that," he said. 
 
 "And perhaps," she interrupted with a peculiar 
 and rather pretty accent, "you will be seriously 
 angry with me even before we get to Mariestad. In 
 that case, we separate — even there." 
 
 The two parts of the sergeant's dark, neat, and 
 well-formed mustache were raised on his upper lip. 
 trom this it is highly probable that he intended 
 to raise the lip itself, open his mouth, speak, and 
 perhaps say something more about his recompense 
 for the trouble of going way down to Lidkoping. 
 But Sara had -hardly finished the last words when 
 the horses shied. Heaven knows from what bush 
 beside the way; the tanned and wrinkled old 
 
104 SARAVIDEBECK 
 
 driver, who had been just as busy talking tb his 
 colts as the travelers had been talking to each other, 
 had let the reins hang, too slack, so that in the ex- 
 citement he could n't hold the horses in, and they 
 began to gallop and run away. Horses from the 
 Narike province are of excellent breed and well 
 fed; they have fire, courage, and spirit. Conse- 
 quently Albert had to get up hastily and stand in 
 his seat; he jerked the reins out of the old man's 
 hands and pulled so roughly that the two fallow 
 steeds had to bend their necks like high crossbows, 
 snort, and put their noses to their breasts. There- 
 fore the running away came to nought, but off they 
 flew so that the axle bearings could easily have 
 taken fire. 
 
 The sergeant's hair was flying about the collar of 
 his doublet. Now he felt as though he were going 
 backward in time and were at least twenty years 
 younger than a moment ago. He glanced down at 
 his side; Sara-did not seem nervous at all during 
 this wild ride, and this pleased Albert more pro- 
 foundly than the historian is able to describe. Al- 
 bert thought, " Here is still another point in which 
 she and I agree. Perhaps sometime I may find yet 
 another." 
 
 Although it is not impossible for an historian to 
 follow all occurrences, yet it would not do for him 
 to relate everything, important and unimportant, 
 both what was said and what was not said, what 
 
CHAPTER VI 105 
 
 happened and what did not happen — how often 
 the hat was exchanged for the kerchief and vice 
 versa! To be brief, the travelers arrived in Glans- 
 hammar, arrived in Orebro, arrived in Kumla, and 
 arrived in other places farther on. 
 
 Though the horses came near running away on 
 the Glanshammar road, the journey afterward did 
 not progress so rapidly, on the whole, as Albert 
 and Sara had first calculated. Because, truly, does it 
 not seem a good deal to have four night lodgings 
 between Arboga and Mariestad ? And yet we must 
 conclude that this was the case, for they never ap- 
 peared in M ariestad u ntil Tuesday ; and they had left 
 Stockholm on Thursday, as noted in the beginning. 
 Consequently, it made six days in all, of which one 
 was spent on Lake Maelar and the rest on land. 
 
 In all probability the delay was occasioned in 
 part by the fact that when they arose one morning 
 in Bodarna, where they spent a night, Sara was not 
 entirely well. She had neve;r before experienced 
 so much agitation, and her eyes, though they now 
 seemed more brilliant than ever and were spark- 
 ling and full of the deepest fervor when she looked 
 at Albert, still gave evidence that she had scarcely 
 slept half the night. The girl who came in with the 
 coffee at half-past six was consequently very wel- 
 come. An excellent beverage the first thing in the 
 morning! But this again is no doubt too private to 
 mention. 
 
io6 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 Accordingly it is best to get on to Mariestad at 
 once. It cannot be helped that the journey took six 
 days. 
 
 Mariestad enjoys the well-deseryed reputation 
 of being one of the most beautifully located small 
 cities in Sweden. Who but will remember the open, 
 extensive view over Lake Vanern, especially from 
 the church grounds! There stands the large church 
 itself on an elevation, where it arrests the eye before 
 one reaches the town and diverts it to the right, 
 away from the leafy avenue in which one is driving; 
 Finally, when one has entered the city and pro- 
 ceeded down the other side of the market-place, 
 there lies the long, floating bridge, swimming idyl- 
 lic on the broad, clear waters of the Lida River, 
 And across the bridge is the beautiful Marieholm, 
 the residence of the governor, which, though not 
 very tall, is made all the more charming by an 
 abundance of trees in the surrounding landscape. 
 Memories of excellent paternal rulers of the county 
 seem interwoven as it were with the soft branches 
 and fluttering leaves of the maple, birch, and hazel 
 that bend in the evening breeze. 
 
 Who but will remember all this? Yet the re- 
 membrance depends, after all, upon whether you 
 have been in Mariestad, for it will do little good 
 merely to hear some one talk about it; you must 
 see the mild, inviting outlet of the Lida with your 
 own eyes. 
 
CHAPTER VI 107 
 
 Albert and his companion arrived there one 
 heavenly evening in July. Some circumstantiality 
 must be permitted in the story in certain places, and 
 our narrating what follows will and ought there- 
 fore to be excused. 
 
 After they had reached the market-place upon 
 their arrival, they did not drive straight ahead, down 
 toward the Marieholm bridge, but turned off to the 
 right on a little street that continues to Lake Vanern 
 itself About half-way down this street stood the 
 house that received the tired travelers. 
 
 They dismounted here and had the'baggage car- 
 ried in, and all went well. But afterwards Albert 
 suggested that they take a walk through the town, 
 while the evening was yet so clear and beautiful. 
 
 Of late, ever since they had left Bodarna, Sara 
 had been more silent, not exactly solemn — that 
 word is not suitable — but more exalted, and she 
 did not talk so often about the business of the craft. 
 There was no other change noticeable in her, ex- 
 cept that the customary roguishness in her eyes had 
 been exchanged for a certain divine kindness and 
 consideration for almost everything that Albert 
 wanted. 
 
 Without saying a word against it, she let him 
 take her arm, and went with him wherever he would 
 lead her. He had no plan for his promenade, and 
 so it came about most naturally that they passed 
 over the market-place down to the floating bridge. 
 
io8 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 stopped in the centre of it, and examined the Lida 
 River. 
 
 As they stood here and looked northward, they 
 had a boundless view over the clear, watered canvas 
 of the Vanern. They were unable to detect where 
 and how the lake met the reddening firmament, 
 for the two seemed fused into one. 
 
 "So this is the Lida! "she remarked with a little 
 shaking of her head. " In exactly the same way the 
 Lida flows through our city, and from its bridge 
 we have just as fine — fine — fine a view as here! 
 Oh, Albert, Albert ! Right here I remember the mo- 
 ment when my mother and I stood on the bridge 
 over the Lida — and she hurled — the ring away — 
 far — far — out." 
 
 Albert suddenly shuddered, took her by the 
 arm, and walked away from the bridge, although 
 she was loath to go. When they had got up town 
 again, they turned to where the church stood. The 
 churchyard^ surrounded by a low stone wall and 
 covered with trees in various groups, is so close to 
 the Vanern that the lake appears to be underneath, 
 and the gray, tall, imposing church itself towers 
 above you. 
 
 Sara suggested sitting down on a gravestone. 
 Albert sat beside her. " You are so quiet, my good, 
 beloved Sara; are you tired?" She did not even 
 answer these words of his ; but he followed her eyes 
 and noticed that for a long time she sat with an 
 
CHAPTER VI 109 
 
 almost dreamy look — he had never seen her that 
 way before — watching two pretty children, who 
 were playing a short distance away on the grass ; 
 they were boisterously merry and struck each other 
 in the face with gillyflowers: 
 
 The children looked neither poor nor rich, but 
 unusually handsome. Albert beckoned them over 
 to please Sara. They came bareheaded with long 
 curls. Sara suppressed with difficulty a glistening 
 tear, remained silent, but fondled them about the 
 head and neck, Albert said," Just think, Sara, sup- 
 pose those pretty children were without parents ! " 
 
 "They cannot be without father and mother, 
 inasmuch as they exist." 
 
 "But if their father and mouther — " 
 
 "Are dead? Well, then they are still protected 
 by God and good people, who are always to be 
 found. I know such a person in Lidkoping who 
 has had no children, and who has been glad to 
 dress and help, out of his own means, several small 
 children whose parents — Albert — " 
 
 " Have died ? " 
 
 "No, worse than that; fought, ruined each other 
 both in body and soul, and paid no attention to the 
 children." 
 
 "You were such a child yourself at one time, 
 Sara." 
 
 " And I am indebted for what little I am to my 
 good Aunt Gustava, who used to visit the house 
 
no SARAVIDEBECK 
 
 of my parents by stealth. When papa died, things 
 went a little better and more calmly at home, al- 
 though mamma was already so ruined and weak- 
 ened that she was worthless and could never re- 
 cover; otherwise it would have been possible for 
 her at that time to have become a real human being 
 again. Since then I have grown up and taken the 
 reins at home. But I feel this way, and I may give 
 this testimony about myself, that I don't want to 
 hurt or ruin anybody — and you, Albert, least of 
 all. For a person to receive a right that puts her in 
 a position to injure another to death is always hor- 
 rible and always will be. God's beautiful love will 
 certainly never make any progress on earth that 
 way, I shall never want that power over another, 
 and I don't intend to give it to another to be ex- 
 ercised over me." 
 
 Albert was silent. He patted the children on th? 
 head. 
 
 "Oh, you like children!" she exclaimed. 
 
 Without answering her, he said, "Now if the 
 parents of these children, Sara, were unmar — " 
 
 " The children are good and beautiful ; it looks as 
 if God and man loved them." 
 
 " But if the parents were not near — did not look 
 after them — in place of these children, Sara, we could - 
 easily imagine some that were starving, ragged, and 
 abandoned." 
 
 "If the parents are good and sensible, she inter- 
 
CHAPTER VI III 
 
 posed mildly, " they will not fail to look after their 
 children so long as they live; that is just as sure, I 
 know, as that no one will tear the heart out of his 
 own breast." 
 
 " But suppose the parents are bad and foolish ?" 
 
 "Well, in that case, they are bad and foolish 
 whether they are married or not; and they act ac- 
 cordingly toward their children and themselves as 
 well as toward every other pitiable creature made by 
 God. I have seen and considered examples enough 
 of that, Albert," 
 
 "Yet there is one difference — " 
 
 "Yes, a big difference. I have seen that people 
 who begin to be good and wise are apt to continue 
 as God has created them, or else they will be kindly 
 corrected by other people in case they make mis- 
 takes, which often happens. If they are compelled 
 to be in bad company day and night, however, they 
 are contaminated both in body and soul ; and if they 
 detest that company and are still obliged to live 
 with it, then it happens very often that they become 
 embittered, are incited to anger, and become real 
 'devils." 
 
 Albert started at this word, as always when he 
 did not use it himself in an oath. He whispered 
 something to himself about Dissenters. 
 
 ''Think whatever you please, Albert, but I am 
 certainly not a Dissenter; you may ask them, them- 
 selves, about it, for I give you complete freedom. 
 
112 SARAVIDEBECK 
 
 When I am talking here on the gravestone about 
 devils,! mean those ruined, horrible human beings 
 that can be seen in the cities — and in the country 
 too, I think." 
 
 "That is the way man is tempted, Sara." 
 
 " Tempted ? I don't believe that anybody who 
 has the welfare of mankind at heart creates such 
 a temptation that the great majority go down and 
 utterly perish. And who has tne right to arrange 
 such a hellish temptation that it ends with hell itself? 
 I don't call that temptation, it's just madness." 
 
 Albert started again and sprang up at the terrible 
 words. Hell, madness, and devils had never entered 
 into the conversation that he employed except, as 
 we said before, when he swore. And in Sara's com- 
 pany he had never uttered an oath, at least none 
 addressed to her, either good or bad. 
 
 To cheer himself up, he lifted the children one 
 after the other into his arms, kissed them warmly, 
 and glanced a little shyly down at her sitting on the 
 gravestone. At this moment he found her looking 
 up at him and the children, and it seemed as though 
 she half intended to stretch out her arms toward 
 them. He was wonderfully impressed by this pic- 
 ture. He was not a painter, a musician, or a poet; 
 consequently he could not sketch or sing or ex- 
 press in words what impressed him in the figure of 
 this woman sitting there and gazing upward. She 
 was not poetical either, but the image of such pure 
 
CHAPTER VI 113 
 
 and divine simplicity was surely worth a moment's 
 contemplation. 
 
 " Now — now come in, Sara! It is growing late, 
 and you may get cold. I would n't have you catch 
 cold for a thousand worlds." He kissed the children 
 again several times and gave them some silver coins ; 
 they ran away singing, and he took the arm of Sara 
 Videbeck. 
 
 " Catch cold ? I hope that won't happen. I am 
 quite comfortable, Albert, though it may be that 
 you never see me warm or with cheeks glowing." 
 
 Before they left thechurchyard she turned around 
 once, looked up at the tall, gray, majestic church- 
 steeple back of them with a slight bow, as though 
 she were making a curtsy as a farewell to the place 
 — or perhaps as a token of gratitude for the plea- 
 sure she had enjoyed in the churchyard. 
 
 Albert's heart grew light again when he came 
 out into the street. Sara also walked lightly with 
 freedom and confidence by his side. They began to 
 talk about the trip and various requisites. Before 
 they realized it, they had arrived at the inn, where 
 their things were already placed in a large, pretty, 
 and pleasant room. It soon became so dark, how- 
 ever, that the woman attendant came up with a 
 light, rolled down the window shades, and asked 
 the guests what their pleasure was for the evening, 
 whether they desired to eat downstairs in the public 
 dining-room or upstairs by themselves. 
 
114 SARAVIDEBECK 
 
 "First of all, get us a bill of fare, my dear girl, 
 then we will decide about the rest afterwards." 
 
 The girl disappeared. "Would you like to be 
 among the people down there? "questioned Albert. 
 
 "No — and especially not to-night!" she said. 
 "We are now in Mariestad, and there are a few 
 matters to consider and discuss between us in case 
 we separate here and you go southward while I turn 
 off to the west. Let us eat up here." 
 
 The girl returned with the bill of fare. Albert in- 
 dicated his choice, which corresponded with Sara's, 
 except that she took salad with her meat, while he 
 ordered his favorite dish of pickles. "And serve the 
 food up here for us," he said. The waitress left and 
 returned; all was made ready. At the end of the 
 intimate and happy little meal the table was cleared 
 again, and they were alone. 
 
Chapter VII 
 
 " 'But I tell you that if you want to travel around a 
 little afterwards, 1 have no objection. 1 desire to 
 make my own arrangements at home all alone. 
 Forget ? If you should Jump up now, run out, and 
 go to Sollebrunn to-night, would you forget me on 
 that account?"* 
 
 \ 
 
 WHEN they were alone, as was noted at the 
 end of the last chapter, Sara went to their 
 traveling-bags and began to set apart the things that 
 belonged to Albert. "Are you going right away to- 
 night or not until early to-morrow morning?" she 
 said in an undertone. 
 
 "Go where?" 
 
 " I don't know where you intend to go, Albert. 
 You have talked about turning south at Mariestad 
 toward those large estates." 
 
 "Vadsbo district, where I had several aiFairs to 
 attend to, we have now passed through for the 
 most part and left behind us. I shall have to make 
 that up on the return journey. To be sure, I am 
 going to Odensaker, Skofde, and way down to 
 Marka and Grolanda,so the most convenient way, 
 I dare say, would be to turn out here at Lexberg 
 toward Kekestad and not follow the west road 
 through Bjorsater and then Lidkoping. But I have 
 business also in Grafsnas off toward the Sollebrunn 
 region, and the road there goes, very conveniently, 
 straight through Lidkoping. Why could n't I take 
 that trip now just as well?" 
 
ii6 SARAVIDEBECK 
 
 "Why — you say? Why, you have your own free 
 will to take either one you wish!" 
 
 " Of course, Sara, so far as my business is con- 
 cerned, I am free to do this — " 
 
 " Is there ahy other obstacle then ? What would 
 you like to do yourself? " 
 
 "You ask me that, Sara, and you know just as 
 well as I that I should like to go with you to Lid- 
 koping. May I not see your little house ? — your 
 little rooms upstairs that can be let to travelers and 
 the large room on the ground floor where you in- 
 tend to keep a shop sometime, and that very soon 
 too, perhaps, in case your mother — " 
 
 " Do you really care to see all this ? " 
 
 "My dear, dear Sara, you are smiling. I really 
 mean it. I have many trips to make here in Vas- 
 tergotland, back and forth during the summer, 
 and perhaps all the year round in case I succeed 
 in being transferred to the Vastergotland Valley 
 regiment, which depends on D'Orchimont. Dur- 
 ing these trips I must have a home somewhere — 
 on account of my things. Couldn't you let me rent 
 those small rooms of yours on the second floor? " 
 
 " In Lidkoping? But you have n't seen those 
 rooms yet. Wait until you see them. Never pur- 
 chase, never charter what you have not first exam- 
 ined ! " 
 
 This golden rule was framed in rhythm, and was 
 the first of its kind the sergeant had heard from 
 
CHAPTER VII 117 
 
 Sara's lips, but the words fell very naturally and 
 were recited in a sweet, almost caressing tone of 
 voice. The two were standing near a window; they 
 had rolled up the shade and put out the candles in 
 order to enjoy the impressive spectacle of the even- 
 ing sky before retiring. 
 
 " In those little Lidkoping rooms, Sara, thewall- 
 paper has roses on it, I dare say. And there, no 
 doubt, you used to grind chalk sometimes in the 
 past!" He held her in his arms, and she looked 
 up inquiringly into his face to see whether he was 
 making fun of the dream she had told him she had 
 in Arboga. But now she found no irony and no 
 satire on his lips. 
 
 " In the past?" she remarked. "That may hap- 
 pen many times again. I don't intend to give up my 
 trade." 
 
 " But if I rent those rooms ? " 
 
 " Then I'll attend to my affairs on the ground 
 floor by myself." 
 
 "And then you'll never attend to anything up 
 on my floor?" 
 
 "If you stay there for any length of time, Al- 
 bert, you also will have a large number of matters 
 to attend to for yourself and must keep things in 
 order, according to your needs. There is a good 
 inn nearby. You can get some one to care for your 
 rooms very cheaply, and your washing and ironing 
 can be done by good people who will thus make a 
 
ii8 SARAVIDEBECK 
 
 trifle for their own support, Albert. But I want you 
 to know that I hope to invite you down for a bit of 
 breakfast when we have time. Perhaps you will in- 
 vite me up sometime too. I shall never, never take 
 anything that belongs to you or interfere with 
 your mode of living — I shall merely answer you 
 if you ask my advice, which you can take or reject, 
 just as you please — and least of all will I ever 
 hamper you in your work. I don't understand your 
 business. There must be a great deal of writing and 
 figuring, since you have to do with inspecting — 
 well, whatever it is — Horstadius or Selander or 
 Silfver — or maybe it was in Koberg — but I never 
 want to disturb you in those matters." 
 
 "Thank you, Sara, that's splendid. But may 
 there be nothing in common between two people 
 like — " 
 
 "We may have a great deal, a very great deal 
 in common apart from those things, Albert. May 
 I tell you plainly. what I mean? For I have been 
 thinking of this — during the days — " 
 
 " And I too have thought very, very much about 
 it, you may believe; it must be our highest con- 
 cern." 
 
 "And still we must be careful that our plan does 
 not go to pieces through too great zeal. To take 
 things lightly and wisely, just as they are, Albert, 
 is half the battle, you know. That is the only way 
 to take them, as we are fond of each other." 
 
CHAPTER VII 119 
 
 The sergeant did not understand her entirely, 
 but stroked the beautiful hair near her forehead. 
 " Go on, Sara, you shall speak first." 
 
 She raised her head from his breast, where it had 
 rested for a time, meditated a little, and then said: 
 "Since it is true that you are fond of me and I of 
 you, we have that in common. That is a great deal, 
 Albert. It is more than a good many have. But if 
 we set about to have a mass of other, unnecessary 
 things in common, then I will tell you what would 
 happen. If you should take my little house, my 
 means of sustenance, my property and money — 
 insignificant enough in themselves, but of great 
 value to me — why then I cannot deny that I might 
 begin to be cross, because you might not know how 
 to manage such affairs. I imagine that you hardly 
 know yourself whether you do, since you have had 
 no experience in looking aftef a house and trade. I 
 am not certain ; it is possible that my anxiety might 
 be unjustified, and that you could manage all very 
 well; still, the anxiety, Albert — One thing at least 
 I can tell you, that as soon as you noticed any- 
 thing of the sort in me, you would become furious. 
 Then I should go off alone by myself and nour- 
 ish my secret thoughts. One moment I should 
 think that I was doing you wrong; the next mo- 
 ment it might seem as if I were right, after all, in 
 a few things at least. In these struggles and tortures 
 of mind and soul we should waste time which could 
 
120 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 otherwise be spent profitably and usefully. Still the 
 waste of time would be the least evil. But, Albert, 
 I should acquire a bitter temper. You would find 
 me irritable, at first only occasionally, afterwards 
 more often. Then you would become bitter your- 
 self. Or, if we both suppressed the unpleasant 
 feeling, kept it to ourselves and swallowed it, as 
 they say, it would turn inward instead, creep into 
 flesh and bone and undermine our health, and we 
 should waste away body and soul'. No doubt, we 
 should have to begin to take the cure at Lund wa- 
 tering-place, or perhaps squander our money on 
 mud-baths, such as I have heard talked about in 
 Porla or Loka: stuflFthat seldom does any good 
 when the case is serious. Then another thing, 
 Albert, my complexion would soon begin to fade, 
 my eyes would grow dull, and I should be more 
 homely than I am now. You would never have the 
 heart to telLme that ; but you would often think it. 
 I should have ^ense enough to discover it myself, 
 and I should go off brooding gloomily over what 
 you were thinking about me.Then, when you would 
 never tell me, I should find out for myself by 
 thoughts and guesses. No doubt I should lose 
 sFeep, and that would make me still more and more 
 wrinkled, day by day. Yes, Albert, ugliness has no 
 bounds when it once commences. I have often seen 
 it among people. And what would you do ? If you 
 were as good as the best of men, you would attempt 
 
CHAPTER VII 121 
 
 to comfort me with kind words; and whatever you 
 might mean by them, they would sound hollow in 
 my ears, since I should see that you lied quite a bit 
 in order to please me. That would make matters 
 worse and not better. You would grow tired of it 
 too, I am sure, because, after all, you are but a 
 human being like myself. And yet I dare say you 
 would dislike me less on account of my losing my 
 looks than on account of my crossness, dullness, 
 and real wickedness of soul; and finally, perhaps, I 
 should become foolish and stupid. That would be 
 still more unendurable to you. Ordinary oaths and 
 promises become mere empty words, when no man 
 keeps what no man can keep, I am speaking about 
 the love of a person's inmost heart; that is the 
 only thing worth while here, and that is hopelessly 
 lost if people become intolerable to each other. I 
 have spoken of how I might become insufferable 
 to you ; it might well happen, also, that you would 
 become intolerable to me. What consolation is 
 there, then, in marriage promises ? It is like a title 
 without a position. It is like a sign-board outside 
 a shop, and when you go inside and ask for the 
 commodity advertised upon it, it is not to be had. 
 What do you do then ? You go out provoked and 
 spit at the sign. Isn't that extremely pleasant? 
 I have observed that with mortification among 
 other people, and I don't like it. I don't want you 
 or me to have it so. If you love me with your soul 
 
122 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 — then I am happy and have all I want, so far as 
 that is concerned, and beyond that I shall take care 
 of myself entirely, be merry, satisfied, and indus- 
 trious, sleep well at night, and look well during the 
 day ; I know it, and you will see. But if you do not 
 love me — what good does anything else do, and of 
 what use is the rest to me? To have our love last 
 is the best and most useful thing for us; maybe it 
 will come to an end in any case, but we ought, at 
 least, to avoid anything that we can foresee might 
 cause trouble and undo love instead of helping it." 
 / " But, Sara, if we are good, sensible people, which 
 I think we both are, we ought from the very begin- 
 ning to be able — and then continue — and it seems 
 to me that we ought not to count ourselves among 
 the unhappy examples that you have mentioned." 
 " If we are good, sensible people, as I hope we 
 are, with the help of God — why then, Albert, 
 nothing more is necessary. Then we need only to 
 practice our goodness and sense toward each other 
 and toward every one else that we have anything 
 to do with. Who can prevent it? Consider now — 
 if we are good and rational, is it not most impor- 
 tant that we go on being good and loving each other ? 
 That must be our main purpose, and to that end 
 we must particularly avoid everything that tends 
 to ruin one or make one bad and stupid and fool- 
 ish. What a man continues to be is always in God's 
 hands, and many may fall. We at least ought not 
 
CHAPTER VII 123 
 
 to bring about conditions liable to fill the heart 
 with poison and the brain with a misty shadow. 
 Others may call that a trial, but I call it a wicked and 
 unwise adventure to which people ought not, by 
 right, to expose each other. For if God sends one 
 a cross that cannot be avoided, it must be endured 
 bravely, and that is a trial. But people should leave 
 alone entanglements that may bring wretchedness ; 
 such are avoidable and should be shunned. They are 
 not to be called trials, especially since they gener- 
 ally lead to hell, whither no kind Providence would 
 want to drag those subject to it. But if you don't 
 believe as I do, Albert, you are entirely at liberty, 
 and—" 
 
 "At all events," interrupted the sergeant, "you 
 are wrong, Sara, when you say that there is wicked- 
 ness and unhappiness in all homes." 
 
 " In all ? " she asked. "No, I have seen one or two 
 where they lived happily, but that is not because 
 they have been read together, which does not help 
 matters in the other cases, but because they agree 
 with all their soul or at least as much as is neces- 
 sary, and that always helps." 
 
 "Read together? What do you mean?" 
 
 "Why, that some one has read a blessing over 
 their heads. Dear Albert, sorceries are of no use. 
 In this affair, as in all others, we must realize some- 
 time that we must seek only what is really valuable 
 and not build upon the worthless; for that breeds 
 
124 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 not only unhappiness but, what is worse, real vice. 
 Because when love is gone it becomes a vice — " 
 
 " Sorceries? I like very much the beautiful prayer 
 which is used, for instance, when two — " 
 
 Saralookedupwithawonderful expression. "God 
 is my witness," she said in a scarcely audible but 
 very clear voice ; " God knows that I love prayers. 
 I pray, Albert, and expect to pray, but I do not use 
 prayers where they avail nothing, for that is sorcery 
 and empty sound, if not something worse — blas- 
 phemy. Prayers? Oh, great God! Not the most 
 beautiful of prayers can change black to white or 
 white to black. If two stand beside each other and 
 even then pretend a fondness they do not feel, does 
 prayer convert the lie into truth? Or if, they do 
 not stand there and lie just then, but nevertheless 
 promise what they may be utterly unable to keep 
 afterwards, can that be prevented by any prayer 
 read over their heads ? What usually happens, when 
 they later fail to do what has been impossible for 
 them to do, is that they keep up appearances and 
 increase the torture and falsehood. What, ntiay I 
 ask, did the' poor prayer accomplish then? It cer- 
 tainly did not prevent matters from going that way. 
 When they still continue to live together, they sink 
 lower and lower in body and soul — yes, become 
 really immoral, we must admit — and finally are 
 unable any longer to see what is beautiful and pure 
 in the world or understand anything that is funda- 
 
CHAPTER VII 125 
 
 mentally sane about man, despite the fact that they 
 once were blessed. Why, you see that constantly, 
 and I call it immoral, Albert! It is surely not worth 
 while to be called good, noble, and happy with- 
 out being so! And to obtain a result it is never 
 worth while to use any other means than those that 
 will obtain the result — that is what I think. When 
 I need oil for my chalk, you don't suppose I begin 
 to read a blessing over it, do you? No, I go out 
 and get more oil to mix with the chalk, and that 
 helps. I never resort to sorcery, Albert, although 
 many persons in Lidkoping throw grains of salt 
 into the oven when they have a toothache, run lead 
 over sick folks, and stick splinters into trees. Some- 
 times they claim to have recovered, which might 
 have happened anyway, though not on account of 
 the splinters, I ^imagine. In the same way, those 
 who are read together may live quite morally, but it 
 doesn't really come from any ceremony." 
 "Well, the reading does no harm, at least." 
 "Yes, indeed it does, for when we have once read 
 the marriage ceremony over two persons who can 
 only be a means of destruction and niisery to each 
 other, we still claim and insist that they must live 
 together and crush each other henceforth, just on 
 account of that reading, which took place needlessly 
 once. It seems to me very harmful. Likewise, I dare 
 say, it works mischief to use prayers in vain, and 
 in most cases a terrible injury. Oh, my God — and 
 
126 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 how prayer, which is so holy and good, avails at the 
 right time is something I know well." 
 
 " Dear girl, when did you pray last ? " 
 
 "In Arboga — Albert." She whispered this very 
 softly, and it sounded almost as though a my pre- 
 ceded the name Albert; yet the whole expression 
 was too magical to be retained, although for a mo- 
 ment it was too deeply captivating ever to be for- 
 gotten. She was silent, but immediately afterward 
 she added: "I repeat it, Albert, if you do not believe 
 as I do, you are free to do anything you wish with 
 yourself and your property. Simply tell me, for in 
 that case, I would just as soon have you go to-night 
 or to-morrow morning and not come along to Lid- 
 koping, although God knows how much I should 
 like to have your company on that sandy, disagree- 
 able road." 
 
 "Merely on the road?" 
 
 Their warm glances met ; but they had not looked 
 long into each other's eyes before they gazed out 
 through the window-pane and up toward the sky, 
 which did not seem to have grown darker, although 
 they had spent a long time in the twilight. Albert 
 sat down on a chair near the window, took Sara in 
 his lap, and now remembered beyond Bodarna that 
 dusky night in Arboga, where he had also sat by 
 the window-pane, and had tried in vain to inscribe 
 his name upon it. How much had changed since 
 then! What a new life! With what different eyes 
 
CHAPTER VII 127 
 
 did he look upon her now, and she herself seemed 
 to have been transported into another world- AH 
 the rough, pert, tomboy ish air which had often been 
 visible before had disappeared. She now bore the 
 marks of a womanly citizen : the same common 
 sense in everything as before, but a sense that was 
 subdued in the aroma of the deepest devotion, the 
 purest loveliness. The most wonderful thing was 
 that, despite all, the absolute freedom she granted 
 him to leave her if he would and when he would, 
 instead of tempting him to desertion, made her a 
 thousand times more amiable, gay, and delightful 
 in his eyes. "And amiability is the only quality — 
 the only one — that will attract genuine love. It 
 may not come even then, perhaps, but if anything 
 will draw it out, it is that alone," he meditated. 
 
 "What are you looking at up in the heavens, 
 Sara?" 
 
 "I am just wondering if it is far up there." 
 
 He pressed her to his breast and answered, " We 
 are on the road." 
 
 "Merely on the road?" 
 
 "No, we are there now — if — " 
 
 "Albert!" 
 
 "Tell me, Sara, sincerely — you were just speak- 
 ing about how a person might become ill-looking 
 through inner grief and torment of the soul, and 
 in that you were surely right. We shall leave such 
 things alone. But really, Sara, you could never 
 
128 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 become unattractive. That seems impossible to 
 me — 
 
 " In soulj Albert, you and I need never become 
 ugly, and I think that will do. But you know very 
 well that in body, when we become old, we — even 
 without wasting disease — " 
 
 " What do aged features signify when a good and 
 true spirit is reflected in the eyes and in the expres- 
 sion of every lineament? It is by this heaven that 
 I am attracted and enraptured." 
 
 " I think so, too. Thank God, you are not a fool, 
 Albert" 
 
 "And even physical features are very slow to 
 decline, very slow, provided a good, lively, and ac- 
 tive spirit lives within. That 's my opinion, Sara." 
 
 " I have seen that in my Aunt Gustava," she 
 interrupted. 
 
 " Let us then arrange things this way, Sara: each 
 of us shall manage his or her own affairs. I will not 
 let you direct mine, just as you shall not give me 
 contrql over yours. We shall just have our love in 
 common. But suppose that one of us should ever 
 be in want, so that his own means were not enough 
 to live on?" 
 
 "Wouldn't love be willing to help in such a 
 case?" she demanded, continiuing, " If you should 
 get into trouble, Albert, would n't I give you of my 
 resources as long as I had any and knew that you 
 were no wretched squanderer? And if I should be- 
 
CHAPTER VII 129 
 
 come very poor, it might happen that you — that 
 you would be willing to give me something?" 
 
 " Good heavens, how you talk, Sara ! When that 
 feeling is mutual, have we not our resources in 
 common already?" 
 
 "No, there is avast diflFerence. If I make you 
 a present of money or anything else, you can do 
 whatever you wish with it. No mischief will arise 
 from that; it becomes yours just as what you had 
 before. If you ask advice of me about the handling 
 of it, I will answer you, and then afterward you may 
 treat the advice as you think best. In that way, 
 despite the gift, you remain free; neither will your 
 affairs be disrupted nor your morals corrupted. 
 Similarly, if you wish to make me a present of any- 
 thing, you must make it on the same terms, as a 
 pure and unselfish gift of love, for pleasure and ser- 
 vice, which I may appropriate and use as I please 
 and need. Such gifts and return gifts are an actual 
 aid to man and not a mutual means of destruction 
 such as the daily tangles that people are constantly 
 getting into with one another." 
 
 "Can people never manage a household together, 
 then?" 
 
 "Why, they may try. If the housekeeping goes 
 well, they may continue with it, of course, just as 
 you continue with anything else that goes well. On 
 the other hand, if it goes wrong, it is wise to stop, 
 just as you do with anything else that goes wrong. 
 
I30 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 But love between two persons should, first of all, be 
 protected from and undisturbed by dangers of that 
 sort. However well it may turn out, love should 
 never be made to suffer from or depend upon ex- 
 ternal domestic relations. My belief is that a man 
 and a woman should never live together, because 
 people who are in love provoke, irritate, and finally 
 ruin each other more quickly than those who do 
 not care so much about each other, and therefore 
 regard many things with indifference. But if, after 
 all, they insist upon the unnecessary pleasure of let- 
 ting two heads rule over earthly affairs that are best 
 managed and remain least involved when they are 
 not joined together but handled by each one sepa- 
 rately, according to the best of his ability — then, 
 may they at least be prudent enough to stop before 
 their love passes away, which may easily happen! 
 For though no glass is more beautiful than the 
 heart's fancy, no enamel is more brittle. That I can 
 see. 
 
 "Why, it would be better, then, if we not only 
 lived apart, but also refrained from seeing each 
 other too often." 
 
 "Well, you expect to travel around a great deal, 
 don't you, Albert? " she said with a glance that was 
 far from pained. 
 
 " I must, I cannot avoid it." 
 
 "How gladly I shall think of you when you are 
 away! You will have a hard time to keep yourself 
 
CHAPTER VII 131 
 
 as handsome as the image of you in my soul when 
 you are absent. But you can return and each time 
 be doubly welcome!" 
 
 "But good heavens — " 
 
 "In that way love will last. You won't have to 
 see me in all kinds of dull, stupid, and disagreeable 
 — well, in moments when it is entirely unnecessary 
 to see each other. If you, tod, should have such 
 moments, because you are a human being, Albert, 
 I shall also be spared seeing you then." 
 
 "But great God, Sara, I don't understand — 
 where will this end ? May we not forget each other? " 
 
 "Those who are in daily contact and feel bored 
 by it forget most quickly, Albert; or, if they do 
 remember each other, it is with pain, just as one 
 remembers a felon." 
 
 "Ugh!" 
 
 "Their bodies are intimate with their souls apart. 
 As the Scriptures say: 'This people honoreth me 
 with their lips; but their heart is far from me!'" 
 
 "You surely are a Dissenter!" 
 
 "If there must be a choice, then I prefer inti-* 
 mate souls with bodies apart." 
 
 "But may not both be intimate?" 
 
 '" Sometimes, Albert. That is now the case with 
 us. Still — and I want you to come with me to Lid- 
 koping. But I tell you that if you want to travel 
 around a little afterwards, I shall have no objection. 
 I desire to make my own arrangements at home all 
 
132 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 alone. Forget? If you should startup now, run out, 
 and go to SoUebrunn to-night, would you forget 
 me on that account?" 
 
 " Sara, you would stand continually before me ! " 
 
 "And I should see you through all my windows. 
 Try it! Just go for the fun of it!" 
 
 " Let me linger a while." 
 
 " Forget? It is when indiiFerence comes between 
 people that forgetfulness slides in alongside. What 
 do journeys signify? Highways create no distance 
 between souls. Well, I '11 admit that I don't want 
 you to be away more than half the year." 
 
 "You breathe very lightly!" 
 
 "Forget?" she resumed after a moment's pause. 
 "Maybe if love dies out, forgetfulness comes also; 
 but one thing is certain : I know that happy mem- 
 ory in the heart is not nourished by anything that 
 consumes love itself. Therefore — " 
 
 "Very well, I shall not see you nor visit you too 
 often, Sara, but if I may rent your rooms and sit 
 there at my own work, nothing in the world, not 
 even you yourself, will be able to prevent me from 
 painting your picture before me, not with a brush, 
 I am not able to do that — oh, if I only could! — 
 And if you should get sick, then I '11 go down and 
 sit by your bed." 
 
 "That depends on the nature of the sickness, 
 dear Albert. I prefer to have Mary there; she 
 understands better." 
 
CHAPTER VII 133 
 
 " But — great heavens-;— ; if — I was just thinking 
 — suppose I should get sick myself?" 
 
 "That's an entirely different matter. Then I'll 
 go up to your room and sit beside your bed day 
 and night, if necessary. I '11 close the shop and put 
 up a notice : Out of Town. You must know there 
 is a difference. If a man is sick — really sick, so 
 that it is n't mere talk, if he is seriously confined 
 to his bed — it is not unpleasant or tedious to be 
 in attendance; I understand all about that. But 
 a woman who is sick abed with consumption, or 
 something similar, had better be by herself, Albert. 
 Still, if anything should happen to me, I don't ob- 
 ject to your staying in the town — in the house — 
 on the upper floor. If I should — " 
 
 " God ! What is the meaning of the wonderful 
 expression in your face?" 
 
 " If on thaf'occasion I should come near death, 
 I should want you to come down to my room — 
 just before I die — to me — and — because I should 
 want this hand to be the very last that I kiss in 
 this world ..." 
 
Chapter VIII 
 
 '"Look about and look happy! 1 should like to have 
 the secret joy of knowing that, when you drive 
 through the streets, every other girl might stop and 
 say to herself: " Goodness, what a handsome offi- 
 cer!" '" 
 
 HISTORY and Geography, which always go 
 hand in hand, must have come to each other's 
 aid, so that when the former recently and suddenly 
 withdrew, the latter began to speak as follows: 
 "The highway between Mariestad and Lidkoping 
 extends all the way from Mariestad to Lidkoping." 
 The two travelers started on this road early the 
 next morning, as soon as they had dipped their 
 rusks in a couple of pretty cups of real porcelain. 
 
 The geography of Vastergotland may say what it 
 pleases about the southern shore of Lake Vanern, 
 but one thing is certain: that if you don't look at 
 the road that follows it, the view is not at all un- 
 pleasant to the eye. When the two travelers had 
 arrived at Bresater, Albert said : " Now it 's a ques- 
 tion whether we shall take that divine route near 
 Forshamn, passing over Kinnekulle, through the 
 northern partof Osterplana, then Medelplana and 
 Kallby, which should take us to Honsater, Helle- 
 kis, and Raback — " 
 
 " Raback? I have heard about Raback! I have not 
 been there before," replied Sara. " But why should 
 I go there now when she is no longer there?" 
 
CHAPTER VIII 13s 
 
 "Which she?" 
 
 " An angel used to live there who has now moved 
 to Lake Vanern." 
 
 "Mrs. — I know — I don't remember the name 
 exactly." 
 
 "I have not seen her either," continued Sara. 
 "But if she were still living in Raback I should like 
 to go that way. She used to lend Aunt Gustava in 
 Lidkoping excellent books, and we read them to- 
 gether in our spare moments." 
 
 " I want to read them too ! " exclaimed the ser- 
 geant. 
 
 "You shall— but— " 
 
 "And now the other road that we can take," he 
 went on, "goes down toward Enebacken, east and 
 south of Kinnekulle, through Skalfvum, by Husby, 
 and so on. Which one shall we take?" 
 
 " How can I decide that? I don't know any- 
 thing about it." 
 
 " But you must know, Sara, that Hellekis is one 
 of the best places in Vastergotland ; it would probr 
 ably be worth while to go that way." 
 
 "As you wish. If there are any big houses there, 
 it would no doubt pay to become familiar with the 
 place; it might be profitable sometime." 
 
 A bit disheartened, the sergeant took in the 
 poetic sail of the conversation. He had not heard 
 her business affairs mentioned for several days, but 
 perceived at once that they were approaching. How 
 
136 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 could he be displeased with her for that? Still he did 
 not care to have such divine estates as Honsater, 
 Hellekis, and Raback sacrificed as a mere goal for 
 the material wishes of a glazier; consequently he 
 decided to take the prosaic route over Enebacken, 
 leaving Kinnekulle to the right. 
 
 " But she was in a more exalted frame of mind," 
 continued the sergeant to himself — "yes, for a 
 couple of days, and the subjects of her conversation, 
 although always alike in wisdom, did not always 
 savor of a journeyman in woman's attire. Poor, 
 good, innocent girl!" he added with a half-sup- 
 pressed tear. " My dear and beloved ! How wrongly 
 I judge you ! Is n't it quite right for you to be so 
 rational? You will be able in an honest and excellent 
 way to take care of yourself and your — " 
 
 He jerked the horses as if they had been seized 
 by a sudden fright and he feared they would shy 
 to one side. He recovered and continued to him- 
 self: "AH that I can save and lay by I will give 
 them, as a complete and free gift, just as she wants 
 it, without any interference on my part, unless it 
 be free advice about what to do with it. But, good 
 God, I will call them mine : I will ; I must ; that is 
 my fixed determination." 
 
 "That you shall, and it will be my heavenly joy 
 to hear you say so — " Albert started, alarmed, when 
 Sara uttered these words. Had he forgotten himself 
 in his dreamy speculations to such an extent that 
 
CHAPTER VIII 137 
 
 he had talked aloud and betrayed his innermost 
 thoughts ? 
 
 " Don't be frightened, Albert, I can hear your 
 whisperings, your most silent whisperings to your- 
 self, because I am so constituted that I can hear." 
 
 "Great God! Who are you, then? Can you do 
 more than others?" 
 
 "You drive so well and gallantly, Albert — I love 
 you!" 
 
 "You love me, but you do not answer me!" 
 
 "What question am I to answer?" 
 
 " How could you, a moment ago, hear what, hes- 
 itatingly, only my soul dared imagine?" 
 
 " I love your soul, therefore I can hear the words 
 of your soul." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "That is to say, I understand you. I compre- 
 hend your thoughts — eyen what you were brood- 
 ing about just before this — " 
 
 "What! About your occupation?" 
 
 "Exactly. A window-pane is not so contempti- 
 ble as you think, Albert. In winter time it protects 
 you from the cold outside and still gives you light. 
 Most things in life that give you heat do so only 
 without light, or if they give you light, it is seldom 
 without cold. Only a window — notice this care- 
 fully, my Albert — gives light without allowing the 
 cold to rush in ; and it keeps the heat inside with the 
 addition of light. That is the nature of a window. 
 
138 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 and it means more than many persons linderstand. 
 For that reason you must not despise windows, nor 
 Sara's occupation by which she has fed herself and 
 all those in Lidlcoping whom she may have assisted 
 or will assist hereafter — even you, Albert, if you 
 get into trouble.*^ 
 
 "No, Sara, that will never be necessary. I shall 
 be industrious, very industrious in my occupation 
 — for I have an occupation, too! Now, my dear, 
 good girl, I am just beginning to feel the happiness 
 there is in work ! I will and shall earn ! Work for- 
 merly sounded so paltry in my ears! I will toil! 
 Thereby I shall not only help myself, but — all 
 those in Lidkoping that I may need to help. Occu- 
 pation and industry — you, Sara, have taught me 
 the right words! " He took her hand. 
 
 Geography is a poor thing that constantly lets 
 itself be caught napping by History. When was it 
 the latter resumed control? Oh, yes, on the way to 
 Enebacken. Very well, then, take it up again there 
 and stick to it, Geography ! 
 
 Enebacken — and then we have the churches of 
 Holmestad, Gotened, and Skalfvum, and even Vet- 
 losa a little to the left. Later one can see Husby 
 and even the churches of Klefva up toward Kin- 
 nekulle. Farther on the view discloses Broby 
 church, Kallby church, and Skeby church — What 
 an amazingly large number of churches ! 
 
CHAPTER VIII 139 
 
 But now there are no more. On the right, a large 
 open body of water strikes the eye of the traveler 
 and thrills him with delicious terror. He fears that 
 the whole Vanern will rush in, at least as far as the 
 hub of the wheel, and doubts not that the marshy, 
 yellow, sandy shores upon which he is driving lay 
 at one time beneath the waves. Lake Vanern is a 
 fairy who has withdrawn a little. Who knows but 
 she may suddenly and unexpectedly return and 
 recapture her old rights. Especially in a northern 
 storm she can be terrible. 
 
 To-day the wind was quiet and the lake smiling. 
 Sara sat and expected to see her Lidkoping at any 
 moment, while the most delightful inner emotions 
 were passing through her mind. 
 
 But History must be allowed to explain one 
 thing : that is the extraordinary good fortune they 
 had experienced in getting a four-wheeler, because 
 otherwise most travelers who do not have their 
 conveyances are threatened by carts, and carts are 
 sometimes disagreeable to ride in. Consequently it 
 was a kind Providence that directed matters here ; 
 and perhaps the nearest explanation is the one pro- 
 pounded by the doctors themselves — who other- 
 wise do not concern themselves about Fate — that 
 Nature takes an excellentand special careof woman; 
 that Nature is almost afraid of injuring her and is 
 respectful, solicitous, and watchful. This is a mys- 
 tical but sacred thought. May man be respectfully 
 
140 ' SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 considerate to the same degree. May we kneel be- 
 fore a heaven that surrounds us, unknown — mis- 
 understood — so close to us, so good, so mysteri- 
 ous, forgotten and yet eternal. 
 
 The good fortune to obtain a four-wheeler came 
 often, because when Albert saw the horses were 
 good he did not care to ask for a driver, but drove 
 himself. This arrangement is gratefully welcomed 
 by the tavern-keepers when they see they have 
 respectable travelers. And so the sergeant and Sara 
 had been riding alone the whole time. 
 
 They had reached Lidkoping. They began to 
 ride through the main street of the city, a good, 
 broad street, but somewhat unevenly paved. " Dear 
 Albert, let me get off here; this is the home of my 
 youth : I should like to walk here. You can drive, 
 I '11 walk alone." 
 
 "No, I '11 get off too and walk alongside and 
 drive." 
 
 " No, that does n't look well. And besides, Al- 
 bert, I would rather you rode alone to the tavern 
 beyond the market-place, while I go home. I want 
 to go there alone first. I want to see how my poor 
 mother is." 
 
 "I wish to see her also." 
 
 "No, Albert, if she is still living, she would be 
 terrified at the sight of you. I don't want you to 
 come." 
 
 "Great God! What do you say?" 
 
CHAPTER VIII 141 
 
 "Because you could not help betraying yourself. 
 You would act in such a way toward me that she 
 would suspect your love. She would tremble at the 
 idea that in you she was looking at her daughter's 
 future husband. It would be difficult for me to con- 
 vince her that you would never be — " 
 
 "Ah—" 
 
 " But fear nothing, my dear Albert ! You shall 
 soon come to us and examine the rooms that you 
 intend to rent. Wait until I send for you. Now drive 
 straight ahead. It is not difficult to find your way 
 here in Lidkoping. Without turning oflF, you will 
 come right to the bridge we have talked about, over 
 the Lida River — you know the one that — " 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 "Well, you drive over it, but take in the view to 
 the right and to the left, for no more beautiful river 
 than the Lida flows through any town, A little be- 
 yond, on the same street, you will come to the mar- 
 ket-place. No bigger market-place is found any- 
 where in the world. Drive straight ahead through 
 it to the beginning of the street farthest away to the 
 left. That street goes toward another toll-gate, from 
 which the road runs to Gothenburg. When you 
 come along that street, you will find a tavern at 
 the corner of the first crossing beyond the market- 
 place. Put up there, have our goods carried up, and 
 engage a room for yourself for the night, or until 
 I let you know. From home I shall send over one of 
 
142 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 the apprentices for my things ; I dare say you can 
 tell them apart." 
 
 "I don't suppose there is an S. V. on all, but I 
 will try." 
 
 "You are absent-minded, my dear Albert. When 
 you get to the tavern, have something to eat, re- 
 fresh yourself, and don't think so much about me. 
 You know your own things, don't you?" 
 
 "Everything that isn't yours is mine." 
 
 "But — don't be low-spirited, don't be pale! You 
 are in a respectable town, I tell you. Take a look at 
 the people when you drive through the city; you 
 will observe that almost every girl here is pleas- 
 ing — Lidkoping is noted for that — I am one of 
 the most insignificant. Look about and look happy ! 
 I should like to have the secret joy of knowing 
 that when you drive through the streets, every other 
 girl might stop and say to herself: * Goodness, what 
 a handsome officer!'" 
 
 The sergeant nodded a tolerably cheerful good- 
 by to Sara, who had dismounted. He drove on, but 
 slowly, and turned often to look at his walking com- 
 panion. 
 
 "You drive too slowly," she said, beckoning; 
 "that won't do for a man." He cracked his whip 
 anew in the air, the horses started off quickly, and 
 Sara Videbeck walked alone. 
 
 She turned off down a street along the river, 
 the street that led to her home. It was not late, but 
 
• CHAPTER VIII 143 
 
 already evening. Several douds in long, ragged, 
 and shapeless forms passed over the sky here and 
 there; but there were no signs of rain. The sun in 
 the west was playing with the sombre, thin, light 
 gray cloud forms. 
 
 The pedestrian stopped near a crossing, for there 
 were people approaching on foot, and sht looked 
 for acquaintances among them. In small towns 
 everybody knows almost everybody else. Sara re- 
 cognized them, but they were deep in conversation 
 and quite a distance away, so they did not see her. 
 She wondered at their gestures, pointings, and nod- 
 dings. When they passed, she also moved forward 
 and approached the next corner. Here she stopped 
 short again, for a funeral procession came along. 
 Respect for anything of that kind had always held 
 her back. How much more so now, when she recog- 
 nized with amazement and alarm her own journey- 
 man dressed in black in the procession. A few of 
 the older apprentices and other acquaintances were 
 carrying a coffin. There was no doubt it was her 
 mother's. 
 
 She sought to suppress the terrible emotion 
 within her breast and her difficulty in breathing, for 
 an improper scene on the street had to be avoided. 
 Dressed in traveling-clothes and without anything 
 black, she did not wish to show herself. "My 
 mother! My mother! Shall I never see your face 
 again?" she cried, wringing her hands and with- 
 
144 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 drawing farther into the corner where she stood 
 to let the sad procession pass. She thought she 
 could hear the cantor softly mumble to his neigh- 
 bor the words "last Sunday night." 
 
 The mourners did not notice her. When the cof- 
 fin had passed the quietly weeping, hidden daugh- 
 ter, she felt it impossible to continue her journey 
 home. She saw that the procession turned toward 
 the church. Whether it was to be a funeral service 
 or a mere interment she could not know, but she 
 was drawn on irresistibly to follow at a distance. 
 As yet all was confused, ghastly, and too sudden 
 and surprising. To see her mother, or at least to 
 touch the coffin with her lips before it was lowered 
 into the grave, was a necessity. 
 
 " Last Sunday night? " She spelled out the words 
 in her thought. "Where was I then? Last Thurs- 
 day I left Stockholm. If there had been no delay 
 — if I had not — if — we could have — Icouldhave 
 been home last Sunday night. Now it is Wednes- 
 day! Where were we Sunday night? Where? In 
 Bodarna," she answered herself. 
 
 The location of the Lidkoping church differs 
 from that of Mariestad, because the latter stands 
 on an elevation overlooking the whole city and can 
 be seen everywhere, whereas Lidkoping's church is 
 tucked away in a corner of the town, in such a way, 
 to be sure, that it may be seen at a distance — for 
 it is quite a large building, after all, but not one 
 
CHAPTER VIII 145 
 
 that attracts the eye Immediately from every direc- 
 tion. It is not built on the very shore of Lake Van- 
 ern like the church in Mariestad, but is surrounded 
 by a much darker and more intimate churchyard 
 containing a much richer and denser foliage. 
 
 Sara would not come near the procession, partly 
 because women never participated in funeral pro- 
 cessions; the mourners in particular did not appear 
 in public, least of all in the cemetery at the inter- 
 ment. But Sara simply had to go to the graveyard ! 
 It was to be a service; her eyes, strained to the ut- 
 most, must seek to follow this last journey of the 
 beloved as long as it was possible. 
 
 She discovered with emotion that the ceremony 
 had been entrusted to the humblest clergyman in 
 the town. The coffin was surrounded by people who 
 had been theworkmen of the glazier's widow. They 
 had not been accustomed to go dressed in black, 
 and now they looked poorly fitted out in clothes 
 that were to a large extent borrowed or at least out- 
 grown. But all their faces, when Sara saw them pass, 
 seemed to have pale and sunken cheeks. "Have 
 they fared so badly during the three weeks that I 
 have been away?" No, she hoped it meant sorrow 
 and devotion. The coffin was already far inside the 
 churchyard, when the daughter with tottering steps 
 also tried to venture in. 
 
 She looked about inside. No group of people had 
 gathered with which she could mingle or dare ap- 
 
146 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 proach nearer to the heap of earth upon which her 
 staring eyes were fixed. And so she withdrew to 
 one side, to a tall gravestone at a distance beneath 
 a tree. Concealed there she could still behold her 
 mother's last — and only — honor. There was a fai nt 
 tolling of the smallest bell in the church, the cler- 
 gyman opened his service-book, and the cantor 
 began his hymn. 
 
 At these sounds Sara fell down on her knees in 
 the grass near the solitary gravestone. The tears 
 streamed from her eyes, her head sank tremblingly 
 far down toward the flower-covered mound, and 
 her hands hid the lowered forehead. "My mother! 
 My mother!" she cried aloud, for she knew that 
 no mortal heard her here. But a blissful memory 
 thrilled her heart at that moment: "I have fulfilled 
 your wish, mother! I have heeded your constant 
 warning. Oh, wherever you are now, give me your 
 blessing!" 
 
 If the spirit of the deceased had now looked 
 around on what was taking place, it could have ob- 
 served the black-dressed individuals carefully and 
 respectfully busying themselves about the grave, 
 though not with many words, for there was noth- 
 ing to eulogize, of course, in the life of the gla- 
 zier's widow. But here under the tree, as a source 
 of greater joy 'for heaven and earth, knelt a beau- 
 tiful image of future ages and generations: here 
 was a picture that the spirit might look upon with 
 
CHAPTER VIII 147 
 
 a greater, yea, with an infinite felicity. Heavenly 
 virtue, pure morality, and true duty are often un- 
 known, misjudged, and unnoticed qualities. Con- 
 cealed and quiet stood the daughter in her prayer. 
 No human being noticed her. A cool breeze blew 
 over the flowers. , 
 
 The verse of the hymn was short, the tolling 
 of the bell came quickly to an end, and the words 
 of the clergyman were limited to those of the ser- 
 vice-book. Consequently everything passed en- 
 tirely as it should; nothing was lacking, but neither 
 was anything added. There were dark blue circles 
 beneath the sunken eyes of the foreman. The ap- 
 prentices, of healthy complexion, seized the ready 
 shovels and began to fill in the grave. 
 
 Albert had reached his destination on the street 
 corner, engaged a room on the second floor of the 
 inn, and was promenading back and forth in it, 
 now restless, curious, and waiting for a message, 
 now dispirited, high-spirited, or low-spirited. He 
 looked at his watch; it was seven o'clock in the 
 evening. To engage horses at once for the next 
 day and start off early for Sollebrunn seemed im- 
 possible just then, but at eight o'clock he found 
 this the proper course to take. But ought he not 
 first to take leave of — and when would it be proper 
 to return ? To be sure, these were not deliberations 
 of the most involved kind, but he had already be- 
 
148 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 come accustomed to deliberate about many things 
 together with a certain individual; he wanted to do 
 so even now, and he felt lonesome. 
 
 His restlessness was finally concentrated in one 
 single focus. He sat silent, stiff, and staring in his 
 corner sofa, wondering why no message came. He 
 heard a chambermaid close a few doors of rooms 
 outside. He called to her with a thundering voice. 
 She came flying. "Give me a cup of tea!" he said, 
 and looked wild. 
 
 Accustomed to peculiar travelers, she went on 
 her way, politely, silently, and without astonish- 
 ment. Then he called her back, and she returned. 
 "Did you hear what I asked for?" he growled. 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Then be quick about it, while I sit here and 
 wait!" 
 
 "You have not been waiting for me, I know 
 that much," she said offended and went out ruffled. 
 
 " Oh, how I long for you ! " he burst out, sighing 
 to himself, without having listened to the retreat- 
 ing girl. 
 
 The tea came, hot and strong. Even the girl 
 who carried it looked vexed, for any one may lose 
 her patience, and when the sergeant put the cup 
 to his lips, he burned himself so badly that he 
 yelled: "Oh-h, the devil!" 
 
 "Couldn't you have waited a little with it?" he 
 burst out. "I am not made to be scalded." 
 
CHAPTER VIII 149 
 
 ~ "Neither am I," answered the Lidkoping girl 
 adroitly. 
 
 "Are you crazy?" 
 
 " No, one is enough." 
 
 " I '11 put in more sugar and cream, and then it 
 will cool off," remarked the sergeant, who had come 
 to his senses and regained his temper. "What time 
 is it?" 
 
 "That's none of my business." 
 
 " You 're a deuce of a girl ! " 
 
 "Will you have another cup?" 
 
 "I see it is almost nine o'clock, and still there 
 is no message. Make up my bed at once; I want 
 to go to bed, and then I '11 have something to do. 
 Yes, give me another cup ! " 
 
 "You want it In bed?" 
 
 " Pour it out and let it stand there, and I '11 see. 
 I am going out on the street to look around a 
 little; but if any message comes, call me back. And 
 meantime get the bed ready ! " 
 
 "A queer officer!" said the girl after he had 
 gone out. " But he is expecting a message, and I 
 won't bother with him." She made the bed promptly 
 and quickly. She was angry. Sheets and pillow- 
 cases flew back and forth like the wind under her 
 hands. The bed was ready in a trice, as he had 
 demanded. 
 
 Truly melancholy, pale, and with his head low- 
 ered toward his breast, the sergeant returned. " Has 
 
150 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 any message come?" he asked most politely of the 
 chambermaid, who was hurrying down the stairs. 
 
 "No, but everything is in order now." She dis- 
 appeared below. He went up the stairs. 
 
 Stunned for a moment, he said nothing. He cast 
 one more glance through the window on the street 
 to find out whether — But nobody was to be seen. 
 
 He sat a long time near the window; but noth- 
 ing happened, except that it became darker around 
 him. "I am going to bed!" he finally said aloud, 
 but slowly and absent-mindedly. No objection was 
 made to this assertion. Nobody was present to dis- 
 pute the least thing with him. 
 
 He undressed drowsily, lay down,>and went to 
 sleep, wrapped in the innkeeper's sheet and gray- 
 spangled silk coverlet, expensive in itself but of no 
 value to the sergeant. 
 
 The next morning — it was Thursday again,judg- 
 ingby the evening before, which had been aWednes-^ 
 day evening — it happened that the sergeant woke 
 up. No one greeted him, no one got up by his 
 side, and no one nodded; no one came in, even, for 
 in his affliction he had entirely forgotten to order 
 breakfast the night before. Still he was enough of a 
 man to get up and stand on the floor. 
 
 "Incomprehensible," he meditated. 
 
 He washed his head with cold water, dressed 
 himself as elegantly as the cut of his uniform would 
 allow, and finally stepped up before a large pier 
 
CHAPTER VIII 151 
 
 glass to put on the finishing touches. His cheeks 
 had assumed a delicate complexion through their 
 pallor; the large, dark, and now wistful eyes, the 
 handsome, curly hair, and the whole picture in the 
 mirror looked as if he had been promoted to an 
 ensign. He was provoked at this, because a definite 
 and unfathomable desire had come to him to re- 
 main for a time a non-commissioned officer. "Out 
 upon you, weakling!" he mumbled; dark flashes 
 of lightning gleamed from the corners of his eyes, 
 and he hurled bold, angry glances at his adversary 
 in the glass, which for obvious reasons were in- 
 stantly repeated by the man in the mirror. Thus 
 these two gentlemen encouraged each other, and 
 within the hour the sergeant looked like a Swedish 
 Achilles. 
 
 Some one came tripping along, the door opened, 
 and the chambermaid stepped in with the announce- 
 ment that a messenger had come for the things the 
 night before, and that those rooms for rent — 
 
 "A messenger? And I have not been told of this 
 until now!" Thunder threatened in these words. 
 The girl hastily turned toward the door, but recov- 
 ered and explained that the messenger had come 
 so late that the "major" had long been asleep and 
 that she would certainly not have dared — 
 
 "Where did the messenger come from?" 
 
 "From the Videbeck woman." 
 
 "Videbe — " Again a lightning glance: still he 
 
152 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 could not deny that the right term for the interme- 
 diate which he had pondered about so much might 
 sound just that way. Yet he dared not pronounce 
 the name that way himself. 
 
 "Yes, or more correctly speaking, from that 
 house," continued the girl, "for the woman her- 
 self is gone at last. But the apprentices recognized 
 the things and carried them back to the house of 
 their dead mistress." 
 
 "Dead! What do you say? Heavens and earth! 
 Dead? No — and I was told nothing of this yester- 
 day!" 
 
 The girl answered, amazed: " The messenger said 
 that those rooms to rent might be rented now and 
 they could be examined at eight o'clock this morn- 
 ing. For that reason I did n't think it worth while 
 to disturb you, major, before seven." 
 
 "To be examined at eight, said the. errand boy? 
 Look here ! It is quarter to eight. But — eternal 
 God! Dead? That's impossible! Impossible! Im- 
 possible!" 
 
 He rushed out and at the door asked the way 
 to the Videbeck house. The maid told him and 
 described it as well as his impatience and her aston- 
 ishment would permit. He hastened off. 
 
 The morning was marvelously beautiful. The 
 sergeant reached one of the streets near the Lida. 
 The sunlight of a new day together with all the 
 blue, the green, the white in the air, in the trees. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 153 
 
 and in — Oh, the sergeant should have had sense 
 enough to behold and rejoice at so much! Surely 
 he should have concluded from the conversations of 
 the preceding days that it was the Videbeck mother 
 that had died and not the daughter at all. But he 
 was so full of thoughts that he passed on without 
 reflection. 
 
 Finally, he saw a little red, wooden building re- 
 sembling a house in Strangnas, but in good repair. 
 He came upon a long line of spruce twigs in the 
 street; he felt a pang within his breast: now he had 
 the death line to follow. 
 
 Through a board gate with a latch, he entered 
 a spacious, newly swept yard. He went up the low, 
 broad front doorsteps. The door itself, which was 
 quite large, was decorated with boughs of sweet 
 maple and birch. Garden chevril and fresh meadow- 
 sweet exhaled their perfiime from the floor of the 
 entry. He smelled this mild fragrance, but his knees 
 trembled, for he felt that it had the customary pur- 
 pose of concealing the fumes of something dreadfiil. 
 
 An elderly woman came to meet him. She was 
 neat, but dressed extremely plainly, and with a 
 mingling of sorrow and goodness in her counte- 
 nance. Again he felt a stinging pain in his heart. 
 "That must be old Mary!" thought he. What 
 should he say? How should he commence? Finally 
 he stammered : " I have heard that there are rooms 
 here to — " 
 
154 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 "To rent? Yes, upstairs, if I may show them to 
 you. 
 
 He went toward the stairway, but he shuddered, 
 for if she were really dead, what in the name of God 
 would he want with the rooms? His foot came 
 near stumbling over the first step ; he turned around 
 toward the old servant, he wanted to ask a ques- 
 tion, but his tongue refused to obey. In order to do 
 something, he said: "Before I go up, let me know 
 the amount of the rent!" 
 
 " Twenty rix-dollars current money per year, but 
 twelve per half-year, sir. Kindly — " 
 
 Cold, gloomy, cutting words ! " But I should be 
 ashamed not to go up, when I have come here;" he 
 reflected. He flew up the stairs. 
 
 The woman conducted him into two small rooms 
 with roses on the wall-paper. " Please sit down and 
 examine them, at any rate," said she, went out, and 
 shut the door. 
 
 " Sit down ? No, iAdeed ! Great God, what busi- 
 ness have I here? But what splendid rooms ! pleas- 
 ant, divinely pleasant! They have been scrubbed 
 very recently, almost as if it had been done last 
 night; they have been put in order, swept, and have 
 had fresh curtains put up. It is clear that a guest 
 was expected. And gillyflowers in the windows! 
 Look, what mirrors and frames! The frames of 
 glass too, with gilt paper underheath. That was it 
 exactly. And the inner room? Rosy wall-paper there 
 
CHAPTER VIII 155 
 
 also, but a little- different. Oh, if I could only live 
 here, and — if — that is to say, if — Good God! 
 It is certain it was these rooms that she dreamed 
 about that night in Arboga, when — " 
 
 The door opened. She stepped in. The sergeant 
 was a little startled at the sight of a black-dressed 
 girl, a girl in a serge dress, with Sara's head, who 
 was mildly smiling at his amazement. She wore a 
 broad, finely starched lawn collar over her breast; 
 her cheeks were white. 
 
 "I am in mourning, as you see," she said. 
 
 "How glad I am 1 You alive? You smiling?" he 
 exclaimed. 
 
 Her sorrow was painted like a delicate twilight 
 around the uppermost parts of her eyes, but the 
 enamel of the white reflected a bluish tinge as never 
 before, and the pupils sparkled. " Albert ! " she cried. 
 
 He did not answer; he just looked. 
 
 "How do you like these rooms? Do you want 
 to rent them ? But you cannot know them very 
 well yet. May I not invite you down to my place, 
 and then you can see how I am fixed? Breakfast is 
 waiting. And if you don't start right off again on 
 your trips, this Very day, I '11 invite you down to 
 dinner also. Will all this do, Albert?" 
 
 Still he said nothing. But in the whole expres- 
 sion of his face was the answer: "It will do." 
 
Epilogue^ 
 
 IT is said that a light veil hangs suspended be- 
 fore the future of Europe and prevents us from 
 observing clearly the forms that beckon to us from 
 within. I believe it. The veil is not entirely trans- 
 parent; in several places its beautiful drapery hangs 
 down in somewhat thicker folds than in others, and 
 there it is the less penetrable to our sight. It would 
 be ignoble if we should entertain a feeling of curi- 
 osity in regard to such elevated matters and pre- 
 sumptuous if we should pretend to describe with cer- 
 tainty what is happening behind the veil in a time yet 
 unborn, which God has in part purposely obscured. 
 But it is imperative, nevertheless, and worthy of 
 man, to divine as much of the path that we and 
 our children must follow as is necessary to take 
 the right direction. Nobody can or may know his 
 particular line of action in the future; but the gen- 
 eral — the real — line of direction is clearly indicated, 
 because the mysterious veil is only in part a jeal- 
 ous and impenetrable fabric; it reveals the way, 
 but conceals the details of it. These, however, can 
 be discerned more and more as we hurry onward. 
 After all, man must sometime learn to know 
 himself; it cannot be prevented. The more can- 
 didly, the better; I cannot believe otherwise. What 
 has been the result of thousand-year-old falsehoods? 
 'This Epilogue appears as an Introduction in the original. 
 
EPILOGUE 157 
 
 Society built on them totters to its very founda-' 
 tions. What kind of fruit has the individual har- 
 vested from the perpetual hypocrisy to which he 
 has been forced? Forced, I say. Simply this: that 
 the fruit has become real immorality with the title 
 of morality; and another fruit has followed as a by- 
 product — real unhappiness with the title of hap- 
 piness. 
 
 It is clear that here we must concern ourselves 
 with thosQ problems of the times, or one of them, that 
 have come to be so general. They can be post- 
 poned, but not avoided. They belong to a category 
 of subjects that all think about and no one dares 
 mention, a category of very poor repute. If, and 
 whenever, it enters into a discourse, it is badly ex- 
 plained, misrepresented, and condemned, because 
 it contains one of the germs for the salvation of 
 humanity in moral relations. History can furnish 
 only a small number of examples where the teach- 
 ers of mankind, taken as a whole, have not avoided 
 the helpful, detested means of rescue, misnamed 
 deliverance itself as destruction, and as an aid against 
 it have conjured up all evil at their command and 
 sanctified it by calling it good. When the work of 
 an age tends unceasingly to save, help, and improve 
 the soul, they cry just as unceasingly that the times 
 are materialistic: they fail to see that their own in- 
 stitutions, established for morality, lead to real vices, 
 or at least do not prevent them. This is manifestly 
 
158 SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 a fact, whatever their intentions may be. We calum- 
 niate nobody; we pronounce a benediction on all. 
 
 With regard to the problems that confront the 
 age to come, weep if you will, you cannot retard 
 them. The gradually approaching salvation of hti- 
 manity and morals cannot be avoided. 
 
 You may say, to be sure, that human beings now- 
 adays deteriorate through " material interests" and 
 become more and more physical; you can assert 
 that so long as you do not realize that it is the soul 
 which our age is really working for above all. It 
 is the rescue of the beautiful and innocent at the 
 bottom of our spirit ; it is the reanimation of the 
 truly good, of the idealistically hopeful, which God 
 has permitted because He has created it. It is a 
 question really of the defense of the only thing in 
 life that has value, or ought to have value, to man; 
 and of a heaven that has been misjudged for thou- 
 sands of years. The interest in this is called earthly; 
 is there any meaning to the expression? It is the 
 desire to possess a glimpse of heaven on earth, a 
 glimpse which God must have intended us to de- 
 sire, since He created it Himself. But men have 
 chased this glimpse of heaven away, and are still 
 chasing it away as much as they can, because they 
 consider it fully necessary to make themselves mis- 
 erable in big things, not in little. On the contrary, 
 almost all institutions are intended to aid in the 
 little affairs of life, to insure the ownership of the 
 
EPILOGUE 159 
 
 insignificant, and to m^ke us happy in trifles, so 
 long as they succeed in making our happiness in 
 the big and real, world an absolute impossibility. 
 This strange endeavor has for its first cause a mo- 
 tive worthy of a certain respect, but its consequences 
 threaten to disorganize humanity and to banish, 
 together with happiness, all morality. Now what 
 can be so estimable in its intentions, but so disas- 
 trous in Its consequences? Why, through a mis- 
 judgment of what good habits and happiness are 
 per se, that is, according to the true nature of man, 
 one has come to believe that deep piety can be 
 attained only through a simultaneous destruction 
 of personality; in other words, only by a person 
 in whom all individual characteristics are crushed 
 or made void. Men have believed the moral to be 
 merely the general, which has, therefore, been called 
 the pure. Neither have they realized that. In the pri- 
 vacy of all personality, only that is repudiable which 
 is contrary to the true purpose of creation in any 
 particular person ; while any other individual trait 
 In him, far from being subject to expulsion, is In 
 itself the one condition through which he may be- 
 come what he should. And so, with all our honor- 
 able Intentions, we are confronted with the result 
 that good morals do not spring up on earth from 
 annihilation and violation of what is individual. 
 Even through hells of torture, no true virtue is 
 attained. Is then the attainment of' pure virtue a 
 
i6o. SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 treasure inaccessible to man? It is our opinion that 
 the mystery of morality must be solved simultane- 
 ously with the mystery of happiness. It is man's 
 highest problem to find harmony between true, 
 pure morality and true, pure happiness of the larger, 
 comprehensive kind. If at any period or in any 
 particular instance both may not be united, and 
 one must be put aside temporarily, then we may 
 sacrifice happiness, since in that case virtue is more 
 important : for this conviction we are willing to die 
 and become martyrs. The one great purpose of so- 
 ciety must be to produce harmony between the two : 
 everything else is false or small. To suflFer what is 
 unnecessary for the right is a wrong martyrdom, cow- 
 ardly to men and condemnable before God. Chris- 
 tian society may no longer cling to heathen ideas 
 about revenge and external sacrifice, which funda- 
 mentally amount to nothing, and to which Christ 
 has put an end: if we but follow Him! 
 
 What we have noted up to this time should be 
 further expounded. We neither can nor desire to 
 see theses on these subjects. We are mistaken if 
 we think that scientific systems of any value may 
 be devised in all fields beforehand. We must first 
 learn to know people themselves, observe them in 
 their nooks and corners, listen to their innermost 
 sighs, nor scorn to understand their tears of joy. 
 In brief, what we need are true stories or sketches 
 from life: examples, contributions, and experiences. 
 
EPILOGUE i6i 
 
 We may make any reflections we please about these 
 experiences; we may condemn them, or we may 
 consider them dangerous. But if the experiences 
 are genuine, they constitute, no matter how pecu- 
 liar, the essential preliminaries, the indispensable 
 conditions for a correct knowledge of the matter. 
 For only then have we anything to discuss; only 
 tjien can we state what is to be disapproved, and, 
 again, what should be approved. Upon such foun- 
 dations, built from the inner experiences of man, 
 philosophy may appear to construct along all of 
 its various lines a complete system, to develop, to 
 teach, to give counsel. Some one may assert, by way 
 of objection, that philosophers and law-makers have 
 always followed this order; that, however, is his- 
 torically false. Only a very few, and most of those 
 from ancient times, have gathered their knowledge 
 of man from life itself as a source, and then written 
 about it. Thousands of later philosophers, through 
 chamber-study and mere reading of what others 
 have written, have arrived at conclusions and for- 
 mulated systems which are noteworthy for the un- 
 derstanding of their own biographies 'and hermet- 
 ical trends of thought, yet are a real scourge and 
 a spiritual corruption to humanity when they have 
 succeeded in becoming an active force in the com- 
 monwealth. We shall deeply respect philosophy; 
 we shall prostrate ourselves before it^ when it is once 
 born. 
 
i62 • SARA VIDEBECK 
 
 The manuscript that I unfold here contains the 
 narrative of an episode only. In this episode not 
 everything possible has happened, of course, that 
 linay belong to the subject; consequently it alone 
 cannot serve as a foundation for any thesis, which 
 should always fulfill the requirements of a complete 
 conception of its prescribed goal. Still it would please 
 me if this episode should be considered not too 
 trivial by the reader and the characters in it not 
 too insignificant. What they tell each other ancj 
 what they do means actually, in the first place, noth- 
 ing more than that they tell it to each other and 
 act as they do; just in this particular the narrative 
 constitute,s an experience, a fact, a sketch from life. 
 To condemn or approve this fact belongs to the 
 thesis. Consequently, to determine whether their 
 sayings or doings may be applied to others de- 
 pends upon something else besides the narrative. 
 We meet here the noli me tangere of our age. The 
 flower of our century is a sensitive Mimosa, whose 
 easily irritable nerve-fibres shudder and shrink to- 
 gether hastily around the crown at every hand that 
 is bold, cold,* and rude enough to attempt with the 
 very fingers to get at such chaste leaves. She loves 
 to be understood, but not to be touched. 
 
THE CHAPEL 
 
 \_KapeUet'] 
 
 1838 
 
THE CHAPEL 
 
 J Day 
 
 "It 13 a profound truth that old age in every century 
 looks upon youth as its high priest, its leader, help, 
 and strength. The world depends upon young ele- 
 ments for its progress. God Himself was onlythirty- 
 three when He died for humanity and introduced, 
 through the cross, a new ideal of life." 
 
 AYOUNG man of twenty-three with a very 
 pleasant face and an open, happy counte- 
 ■ nance had just climbed into a poor, shabby- 
 looking cart and sat down. He turned around and 
 found his little bulging carpet-bag tightly closed and 
 securely tucked away back of the seat. So he took the 
 reins, let the horse start off at a slow trot, and drove 
 outof thecity of Kalmar through thesouth gate. He 
 nodded his farewell to the high, broad, turf-covered 
 walls, crossed the bridge over the deep moat that 
 encircles the town, passed through the so-called Old 
 City, which is now only a suburb of its daughter, 
 the new Kalmar, and after a while reached the wide 
 road to Vassmolosa. 
 
 As soon as the traveler found himself in the 
 middle of the main highway, he gave the reins to 
 the postboy who sat at his left, and amused himself 
 with reflections. He had just been ordained in the 
 magnificent cathedral of the Kalmar bishopric, an 
 edifice that has few equals in Sweden for archi- 
 tectural beauty. With deep, devotional joy, he re- 
 viewed in his mind the whole sublime ceremony 
 
i66 , THE CHAPEL 
 
 through which he had been consecrated a servant of 
 God and a special friend of mankind. He had felt 
 no little gratification when he had immediately re- 
 ceived an appointment as assistant pastor in one of 
 the most beautiful parishes in Sodra More, among 
 the islands along the coast near Blekinge. He was 
 now on his way there. It was early Sunday morn- 
 ing, and he was to preach his first sermon to-day 
 in his future parish. The church was not very far 
 from Kalmar, so that he could easily drive the whole 
 distance before the service. 
 
 The reader may think that a curate on his way 
 to the pastor in charge ought to have started a few 
 days earlier than the time set for his official appear- 
 ance before a congregation, but duties that cannot 
 be mentioned here had kept hiiii in Kalmar at the 
 home of the old widow of Bishop Stagnelius, and 
 since he already knew personally his prospective 
 superior. Rector X in Y, and had also corresponded 
 with him concerning the date of his arrival, he saw 
 nothing ofi^ensive in this tardiness. 
 
 It was half-past five in the morning,; the birds 
 were singing, and the sun was smiling most delight- 
 fully on the traveler. He passed by Ljungby, but 
 it was altogether too fearly to go and pay his re- 
 spects to the bishop, even if he had had the desire 
 or opportunity ; and so he drove on, reached Vass- 
 molosa soon afterward, and changed horses. 
 
 The country district of More became more and 
 
A DAY 167 
 
 more pleasing the farther south he went. He had 
 already arrived at Varnaby. Here he stepped down 
 while the fresh horse was being hitched to the cart, 
 and decided to take a walk through the park over 
 to the Varnanas manor house, which was situated 
 nearby. He told his postboy to drive along the 
 highway alone and wait on the other side of the 
 estate near the familiar big, black gate. 
 
 As soon as one enters Varnaby, one distinguishes 
 to the south four tall poplars that stand very near 
 the Varnanas manor and serve as a landmark far 
 and wide, without disclosing the house itself until 
 one arrives in the immediate neighborhood. Few 
 places in Sweden possess such charm as the park 
 through which the young curate was now passing. 
 The picture does not owe its charm to melan- 
 choly and picturesque poverty. No, indeed. Rich- 
 ness and fertility surround the wanderer here; he is 
 treading the soilof Oxenstjerna. The youth strolled 
 along the winding path through a field with grass 
 as tall as himself, and admired the numerous oaks 
 with dark green, luxuriant crowns that were visible 
 everywhere above the meadow. God's kindness, 
 manifested toward man even on earth, was revealed 
 here in all its fullness and abundance. The conse- 
 crated young man walked with religious care lest 
 he injure even the merest blade of grass, and his 
 heart filled with silent prayer. He did not remem- 
 ber now the words of his written sermon, which he 
 
i68 THE CHAPEL 
 
 carried in his breast pocket, but he felt disposed to 
 speak holy words to the people without any prepa- 
 ration whatever, except twenty-three years spent 
 in piety and virtue with poor, loving parents. 
 
 When he had crossed the meadow, he came to 
 the broad private road of red gravel that runs be- 
 tween Varnanas and the sea. He followed it until 
 he reached the old wooden house near the shore, in 
 which the counts of Sodra More had themselves 
 perhaps lived, and which now, because of its archi- 
 tecture, presented a strange appearance in contrast 
 with buildings of our own time. After the young 
 curate had hastily inspected this memorial of olden 
 days, he walked back again on the red road and 
 entered the new garden of Varnanas. Up to this 
 time he had not met a living soul ! Silently he fol- 
 lowed the circuitous gravel walks, crossed the small 
 bridges over the canals, and finally began to won- 
 der how he should find the shortest path to the 
 main highway, where his cart was waiting. At this 
 nioment of perplexity, a nurse girl of about eleven 
 or twelve years came along. She was pulling a little 
 carriage filled with various round bundles looking 
 like children's garments. It was evident that under 
 ordinary circumstances the owner of the swaddling- 
 clothes rode in this little vehicle and that the nurse 
 girl, presumably, was accustomed to do the pull- 
 ing; but now there were only linen things in it, 
 and it occurred to the curate that the pretty little 
 
A DAY 169 
 
 servant girl was taking them so early in the morn- 
 ing to rinse them in the stream and then return 
 with them to her little master, who would probably 
 wake ijp about breakfast time. 
 
 What trifling thoughts for a minister ! But the 
 girl with her serious, slightly pale, and extremely 
 interesting face, such as children sometimes have, 
 was the only person whom he saw in this whole 
 beautiful landscape. Of her he inquired the way. 
 Thereupon she walked ahead of him, with her Uttle 
 cart, along several winding gravel walks, through 
 the magnificent park. He noticed that in order to 
 direct him she took a path that led her far away 
 from the canals of the garden, her real destination. 
 At last they reached the manor house itself. T'here 
 it stood in all its glory, painted yellow and newly 
 repaired, sheltered by the four towering poplars he 
 had seen from afar! The road to the gate opening 
 on the main thoroughfare passed close by the place, 
 and he asked the girl not to trouble herself any 
 further. At the parting he patted her kindly on the 
 head ; she had beautified the attractive morning land- 
 scape with childlike charm,and herjittle curtsy at his 
 farewell was full of expression. At the very moment 
 that he was thus gently patting and stroking her 
 hair, he happened to cast his eyes up toward a win- 
 dow of the manor house. A curtain was just being 
 raised, and he met the glance of an elderly woman 
 in a neat nightcap standing beside the rising, curtain. 
 
I70 THE CHAPEL 
 
 The young man, however, was not disturbed by 
 this. He knew that the wife of Major Manner- 
 skantz, the owner of Varnanas, was now at home, 
 and had her two daughters-in-law with her; but 
 time did not permit him to 'pay them his respects. 
 Therefore he went directly to the black gate near 
 the broad Kalmar road; the cart was already there, 
 and he climbed in and drove away. 
 
 For a time he continued on toward Paboda, but 
 soon he turned off the highway, beyond a beauti- 
 ful, poetic place called Segelmara,.and followed the 
 narrow course that was to take him to his superior. 
 He had not reached the rocky coast itself. His 
 heart beat more violently the nearer he came to the 
 beloved temple where he was presently to appear. 
 The path was becoming narrower and narrower 
 and more overgrown; he was approaching a bay 
 of the sea. Soon he had only a short distance to 
 go to the parsonage and the mother church. Just 
 then, however, at an almost hidden bypath, he met 
 a man who made a very polite bow and asked our 
 traveler if he was the assistant pastor. Receiving 
 an affirmative answer, the man, a kind of parish 
 runner, delivered a message from the rector. It 
 directed his new colleague not to drive up to the 
 church, but to proceed westward to the skerries 
 and give his sermon there in the chapel, for word 
 had come that the chaplain in that place had sud- 
 denly fallen ill. 
 
A DAY 171 
 
 "Since the time is short — " continued the mes- 
 senger, with a bow — 
 
 " I will go there at once," interrupted the good- 
 natured young man; "just make my apologies to 
 the rector for not first paying him a visit in the rec- 
 tory. I will start directly for the chapel." 
 
 " I will do so," answered the messenger, raising 
 his hat. 
 
 Fortunately the postboy succeeded in finding 
 the laborious serpentine path to the chapel. This 
 path, however, extended only a part of the way over 
 dry land. After a short time it came to an end at 
 the edge of the water. Here a ferryman came out 
 of a hut and led the curate to his boat. Soon he 
 was floating on the bay and saw before him on the 
 opposite side the beautiful shore of a projecting 
 headland. 
 
 After a few mijiutes' journey, when they had 
 encircled the cape, the chapel came into view, white 
 and inviting in the midst of the green landscape. 
 What a picture ! The mere fact that a church stood 
 there — whether of stone or wood — was sufficient 
 to make a profound impression. Here was a build- 
 ing erected only for love and peace ! It was built for 
 no worldly end, but for the immeasurable benefit 
 of the spiritual life. Itself protected by an invisi- 
 ble guardian, it watched over the welfare of man- 
 kind. We see very few houses on earth whose walls 
 we can look on without a certain feeling of horror. 
 
172 THE CHAPEL 
 
 of greater or less repulsion, at the thought of the 
 ugly things that may have been committed within 
 them. But a church — what a wonderful house! 
 Innocence seems to be its roof, divine care its walls, 
 and reverence the stones of the pavement upon 
 which mortals may tread securely and be safe from 
 the turmoil of the world. 
 
 Even if the y oungclergy man who was being rowed 
 to the chapel shared the public opinion of his day 
 concerning the unpriestly character of various mem- 
 bers of his profession, he had, nevertheless, already 
 learned from the writings of open-hearted theolo- 
 gians the difference between religion and sophistry. 
 Godliness is as good to-day as it was yesterday and 
 will be to-morrow. Religion lives and rescues its 
 beloved among mankind and in nature, although 
 it may be concealed and obscured. Nothing stands 
 in closer relation to nature, conceived in a pure 
 and innocent sense, than religion, provided it is in- 
 terpreted by man in the same spirit in which it is 
 given. 
 
 The boat lay to, and the young man stepped 
 ashore, reverently timid, as if walking on conse- 
 crated ground. The chapel was situated only a few 
 stonethrows from the landing, but before he went 
 up to it his eye was attracted by a gloomy, wretched 
 hut near the water's edge from which six, seven, or 
 eight ragged children emerged and stared curiously 
 at the approaching stranger. 
 
A DAY 173 
 
 "This is Sunday," he thought, "and yet so poorly 
 dressed. But — perhaps they have nothing better," 
 he added in his mind. 
 
 He knew that the rocky coast region was often 
 very poor, and wherever he looked the soil seemed 
 very thin and stony, though a little verdure on the 
 surface gave the landscape a smiling appearance, 
 especially when seen from a distance. He walked 
 up to the eight children. The youngest appeared to 
 be a year old, and the others, two, three, four, and 
 so on, chronologically in line, up to nine or ten 
 years. Despite their rags, they were clean, and their 
 faces were disfigured^ not by dirt but by hunger. A 
 certain expression of the eye, a marked similarity 
 of look in all the youhgsters, showed that they were 
 brothers and sisters. The curate looked around in 
 vain for the parents. 
 
 " Where is your father, my dear children ; or," 
 he added with a sudden inner fear, " where, at least, 
 is your mother?" 
 
 The oldest of the group, a long-haired boy, an- 
 swered, "Father is out to sea, and mother's gone 
 to church, because it's Sunday to-day, sir." 
 
 " It is Sunday. Yes, children ! Aren't you going 
 to church, too?" 
 
 "No!" answered the one who so bravely had 
 act^d as spokesman, and his brothers and sisters 
 showed by gestures and expression that they agreed 
 with what he said. 
 
174 THE CHAPEL 
 
 "You're not? And why not?" 
 
 " Mother doesn't want the church people to see 
 us, because, you see, we — on week days all the 
 neighbors go dressed this way — but on Sundays 
 they don't — " 
 
 "My dear children, you don't have to feel 
 ashamed of your clothes before God ; just come 
 along to church. If you don't go to church, how 
 will you get a chance to hear the word of God ? " 
 
 " Oh, we'll get a chance, all right," he answered ; 
 "mother repeats the whole sermon to us when she 
 comes home." 
 
 "Has your father been out to sea very long?" 
 
 "He went fishing several days ago. I think he '11 
 be home late this afternoon with the rest of the 
 fishermen from here." 
 
 "Do you fish on Sundays?" 
 
 "Of course we do." 
 
 " Then there is nobody in the chapel, I presume, 
 to attend the service to-day, is there? The church 
 hill is pretty well deserted." 
 
 "Oh, I guess, sir, everybody around here is in 
 the chapel — old men, old women, and all the chil- 
 dren who can go to church." 
 
 "Nobody but old men, old women, and chil- 
 dren?" 
 
 "Oh, yes — and my mother, too — she's young, 
 she — but the rest up there in the church are all old 
 women, because, you see, all the people are ofi^fish- 
 
A DAY 175 
 
 ing. Mother was the only one of the young folks 
 who did n't go with them, because she is sick at best, 
 and then she had to look after little Kersti and give 
 her something to eat, you see." 
 
 The curate ventured a glance into the hut, for 
 he had never been on the rocky island before. It 
 looked as if there had been nothing to eat in the 
 house for several days; at least the fire-place showed 
 no trace of anything which, though it might pos- 
 sibly be mixed with cinders, would nevertheless be 
 edible. Not the tiniest scrap of potato was to be, 
 seen; nor was there any cupboard or cubby-hole 
 that might conceal the most indispensable articles 
 of food. 
 
 "Is everybody who belongs to the congregation 
 of this chapel as poor as that?" 
 
 " Poor ! What do you mean, sir ? " 
 
 The gentleman was a littk amazed at the discov- 
 ery that this boy himself did not know what poverty 
 meant. "Why, my dear boy," he said, "I am ask- 
 ing if everybody who lives here is obliged to eat as 
 little as you, poor children." 
 
 "To eat as little as we?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Oh, we'll have plenty to eat, all right, just as 
 soon as father comes home with the fish. Yes, he 
 has stayed away for a long time — longer than the 
 others," added the boy with a glance to one side, 
 which in part concealed his sorrowful mood. 
 
176 THE CHAPEL 
 
 "How does it happen that you fish on Sunday?" 
 questioned the pastor. 
 
 "Well, you see, sir, the fish don't keep any Sab- 
 bath, and therefore if we want any fish we can't 
 keep it either, but have to go out with all kinds of 
 tackle as soon as the schools come round, if we 
 want to catch them." 
 
 "You may be right. Did you say your father had 
 been away longer than the rest of the fishermen?" 
 
 "Yes, ever since the beginning of the week, sir, 
 and that 's a long time. Mother thinks he 's crossed 
 over to Oland, for Sven Carlson saw him lose his 
 boat in the storm last Tuesday and just barely g^t 
 away in another boat; but I think he '11 come to- 
 night with the big fishing party." 
 
 "And then you '11 get food?" 
 
 "And theii we can dance, sir, and that's better 
 yet!" 
 
 The stranger was astonished at the cheerfulness 
 of this youngster, for whom it meant less to satisfy 
 several days' hunger than to have the pleasure of 
 a dance. He liked the boy. He did not understand 
 how it was, but he thought he had seen the same 
 or a similar face somewhere before. 
 
 "See here," he remarked, "if you expect to dance 
 and are not afraid of looking ragged before people, 
 come along to church and don't be afraid of God 
 any more." 
 
 "Oh, I tell you, sir, we can dance well enough. 
 
A DAY 177 
 
 When we Ve got the fish on land, we are all as rich 
 as the Lord himself; nobody cares howwe look,and 
 we sing — Heigh, ho! and Gee-ho! But to church, 
 sir; no, thank you! I 'U never go there till father 
 comes home from Ottenby, and mother thinks he '11 
 bring home some wadmal cloth for us all." 
 
 "Is n't she afraid that he has suffered distress at 
 sear 
 
 "Oh, father can swim, he can, and if he has 
 reached Oland, as Sven Carlson thinks, he has prob- 
 ably collected' a bill for fish sold last spring to the 
 Alum Works, and then he has bought wadmal and 
 will be home with the big fishing party that 's ex- 
 pected to-night." 
 
 It was obviously impossible to make this young 
 islander -downhearted by any sad reflections; and 
 the curate himself probably made them for the sole 
 purpose of being able to comfort the children later, 
 after the sorrow, with the aid of religion. But chil- 
 dren do not come within the pale of religion, and 
 very seldom need to be comforted, because they are 
 not without comfort in the first place. They may 
 whine and cry about little things, but the big prob- 
 lems of life are a merry game to them. After these 
 observations the good curate went up to the church. 
 
 " I wonder what kind of a congregation I shall 
 have to-day," he meditated. 
 
 Decrepit old men and women are also people. 
 He stepped nearer. A man with a long and ugly 
 
178 THE CHAPEL 
 
 face, walking on crutches, met him at the entrance, 
 took off his cap, and exerted himself with a visible 
 and arduous effort to raise the latch for "His Rever- 
 ence" — as he muttered between his toothless jaws 
 — and open the massive church door. The clergy- 
 man greeted him with a friendly bow and walked in. 
 Gloomy indeed! From a distance on the sea this 
 old chapel building had looked very pleasant and 
 inviting surrounded by green meadows; but now it 
 exposed to the eye of the visitor only dark slanting 
 walls and old unpainted posts worn smooth with 
 age, which supported in helter-skelter fashion either 
 the roof itself or small projecting structures just 
 beneath which did duty for galleries. The stranger 
 had never before been in the outskirts of the parish 
 and had never seen the chapel. He was acquainted 
 only with the magnificent mother church, and knew 
 only the more wealthy members and their environ- 
 ment ; such was the picture he had had before his 
 mind during the whole journey. Now, on the other 
 hand, it was just as though he had entered into a 
 new, unexpected, and very serious world. The di- 
 lapidated pews were dark brown from wear and not 
 from paint, and there was no symmetry in their 
 arrangement. It was clear that they had been built 
 without strict use of square or level. As he walked 
 slowly down the church aisle to the vestry, the 
 young man looked around to get an idea of his pro- 
 spective congregation. The pews were only partly 
 
A DAY 179 
 
 filled ; and yet there were thirty or forty people in 
 scattered, thoughtful groups. At his approach they 
 all rose to their feet gradually — that is to say, those 
 who were able to get up; for although several lame 
 and paralyzed members made a sideward and pain- 
 ful motion to rise from their seats and take part in 
 the general silent greeting and expression of rev- 
 erence for the pastor, they succeeded for the most 
 part only with considerable discomfort and even 
 agony. Was there not a single young person pres- 
 ent? Not even the mother of those children? He 
 looked around in vain for her. He was deeply, 
 moved and yet terrified at the sight of all the sur- 
 rounding forms: some had extremely long chins; 
 some were pale, bald-headed or almost bald except 
 for tufts of hair scattered here and there; others 
 were red-eyed or half blind; some noses were very 
 pointed, while others turned up; everybody was 
 hunchbacked; and both men and women had large, 
 clumsy hands, presumably the result of their occu- 
 pation. Wherever the young man turned, he heard 
 slight rattlings in the pews, perhaps from a cane 
 or from some bony knee that trembled against the 
 pew door or could not remain quiet beside its own 
 mate. There was little difference between the faces 
 of the men and the women : the former no longer 
 looked masculine; the latter were not particularly 
 feminine. They resembled the insignificant result 
 in a long example in subtraction, where the remain- 
 
i8o THE CHAPEL 
 
 der had become very small, because the subtrahend 
 had been almost as large as the minuend; that is 
 to say, misery had so nearly consumed the vitality 
 and pleasing qualities of these mortals that their 
 residuum of life seemed almost nil. Seeing so many 
 scraggy and almost ghost-like figures, a cold per- 
 spiration appeared on the young man's brow, when 
 he remembered the sermon he had written and was 
 to give here. What is more common or natural for 
 young and newly ordained ministers, when they 
 write their first sermon, and especially when they 
 intend to make their initial appearance during the 
 summer time in large and popular churches of rich 
 and beautiful districts, before a congregation which, 
 to be sure, is composed half of peasants, but also 
 largely of a better class — what is more natural than 
 to adorn their prospective address with a flowery 
 language full of life and joy and overflowing with 
 beautiful pictures and pleasant comparisons? The 
 heart swells; the very finger that directs the pen 
 of the young homilist is poetical. Everything be- 
 comes enchanting; the gospel takes on the form of 
 an idyl, and the law becomes a gentle admonition. 
 All things are made to resemble the sun, the stars, 
 the hours of the day, the spring and the lilies and 
 even the winsome, gentle eye of the maiden. But 
 now! Before what or whom should this glowing 
 composition be read? In justice to the curate, let it 
 be said that his feeling of distress was not resent- 
 
A DAY i8i 
 
 ment at seeing his beautiful work done for nought; 
 he was not vain, especially in such matters; but 
 he began, and rightly, to wonder how this address 
 would sound to this congregation, and what fruits 
 it would bear. Was he not the pastor for to-day of 
 these decrepit, half-crippled individuals? And did 
 they not have the right to hear the word of God 
 from him ? What he had written when he sat in his 
 studyhad been intended for the young, lively mem- 
 bers of the main church who were more in harmony 
 with himself; and perhaps there may have been 
 some one in particular for whom — who knows? — r 
 for much enters unknowingly into the thoughts of 
 a writer. Was not this and that elegant expression 
 meant for some particular beautiful listener of the 
 fairer sex, I wonder? Is that so impossible — so pre- 
 posterous — or so odious? Not at all; it is very 
 human and very common. But now ! What would 
 all that mean to his present auditors, whom he loved 
 also, whose pastor he was to-day, and to whom he 
 wished to speak words of comfort ? 
 
 Disturbed by such perplexing thoughts, he 
 reached the end of the aisle and entered the small, 
 low vestry. There he was received by the cantor, 
 a nonagenarian patriarch with white, slightly curly 
 hair, so tall that, although he stooped as he came 
 forward to meet the entering curate, he was still 
 head and shoulders above him. "I understand that 
 the regular pastor of the chapel has fallen ill, and 
 
1 82 THE CHAPEL 
 
 therefore I have been commissioned by the rector to 
 take the service here," reported the stranger. 
 
 "Quite right; yes, I know; you are welcome, 
 Your Reverence, come in ! " answered the cantor. 
 
 The curate, who had just been called "Your 
 Reverence," crept far into the vestry and sought 
 to muster up his courage. "God will provide the 
 lamb for the oifering," he said in an undertone to 
 himself, while the cantor obligingly and without 
 being requested assisted him with the gown, a relic 
 of camlet materia] which always hung on a nail in 
 the vestry for use on Sundays. A small fragment of 
 mirror stood leaning against the grating of the win- 
 dow. The curate looked into it to see if his bands 
 were straight. The mirror could only reflect the two- 
 strips besides the nethermost point of the chin ; no 
 further inspection was necessary at this toilet. 
 
 "How about the numbers of the hymns, sir?" 
 questioned the gray-haired man behind him. 
 
 "Where is the organist?" inquired the minister. 
 " I '11 give the numbers to him." 
 
 "We don't keep any organist in the chapel," 
 replied the cantor. "That would be a needless ex- 
 pense when there 's no organ here. You can give me 
 the numbers, for I do the singing before you enter 
 the chancel." 
 
 No organ! So even this comfort would be de- 
 nied the musical young pastor, who had so often 
 been lost in divine blessedness during the mystical. 
 
A DAY 183 
 
 solemn, and languishing harmonies of the hymns. 
 
 The aged comrade now took something out of 
 one of the corner cupboards of the vestry and came 
 up with a hymn-book as big as a Bible. Knips! 
 Knips! sounded twice as he unclasped the enor- 
 mous brass hooks that held the thick, black covers 
 together. 
 
 " Here, Your Reverence, choose, if you have 
 not made a list of the hymns." The letters of the 
 opened book were as large uncials, and the type 
 before him was so clear, bold, and coal black that 
 if the curate had placed the volume at his feet he 
 could still have read every word. 
 
 To try to find one of his favorite hymns in the 
 book, Number 224 by Wallin or Number 2 by 
 Franzen, proved futile. He had not the so-called 
 "old hymn-book" before him, but the old, old 
 one, a contemporary of Jesper Svedberg, which had 
 been revised during the reign of Charles XI. 
 
 " Do the people use this hymn-book ? " asked the 
 pastor. 
 
 "No, sir, I use it, and the people sing after me," 
 answered the cantor; "nobody here uses a book 
 except myself." 
 
 A grim, austere seriousness, both Carolinian and 
 Lutheran, began to seize the newly arrived minis- 
 ter as if with claws, but he was a man of the spirit, 
 and therefore felt a spiritual inspiration. He turned 
 over a few pages and examined a verse here and 
 
1 84 THE CHAPEL 
 
 there. "Take this hymn," he said, "then sing this 
 one as I enter the pulpit, and later this one here — 
 and finally this for the concluding hymn." 
 
 "Very good, sir, I couldn't have chosen better 
 myself." The cantor left the vestry. 
 
 With long but firm steps, the patriarch went out 
 into the church and hung up the selected numbers 
 on the hymn-board. It was a solemn though now 
 unnecessary custom, for no one present had a hym- 
 nal save himself. He struck up a tune, took his 
 position in front near the altar where the cantor's 
 black pew was located, and in a loud tone began 
 his singing. His voice was harsh and sometimes 
 shrill, but it did not tremble, and no quavers were 
 audible. He had hardly finished the first introduc- 
 tory line when everybody joined in the hymn, and 
 the officiating pastor appeared in the door of the 
 vestry to listen and take part. 
 
 What voices 1 Those skeleton forms could sing, 
 every one! 
 
 As he stood there, the curate felt his heart throb 
 with emotion. Among the thirty or forty singers 
 there was not a single beautiful voice, but they kept 
 in tune in both the upper and lower register. They 
 sang in strict unison, accompanying each other with 
 rigid exactness, as is the custom in congregations 
 without an organ. Moreover, all was so disciplined 
 and correct that it seemed as if a corporal were giv- 
 ing a singing lesson. There he stood right in front 
 
A DAY 185 
 
 of them. It was evident that he would tolerate no 
 nonsense. At every cadence, he drew his bushy 
 eyebrows high up on his forehead and looked down 
 with joy and happiness upon his children, these old 
 men and women who had presumably been at one 
 time his pupils. The unisonant song grew so strong 
 sometimes that it seemed to lift the roof, and some 
 of the windows rattled noisily. Now and then the 
 curate looked at the mighty cantor. A little while 
 before he had felt like a son of the congregation; 
 now he felt like a grandchild of the hoary master 
 who was singing in the choir. 
 
 "And I am to preach to these people!" said he 
 to himself. 
 
 The hymn was finished, and the pastor went 
 before the altar to begin the service. He found the 
 prayer-book there already opened for him. After 
 reading the introductory prayer, he turned toward 
 the congregation with the book in his hand. His 
 voice, a little unsteady at first, became strong, full, 
 and beautiful, as he read the prescribed holy words. 
 
 While reading he looked up now and then at 
 those in the pews before him, for whose benefit he 
 was reading. What did he see ? Were these the same 
 people ? 
 
 There were the same bony, pale faces, but with 
 glistening eyes and heads stretched forward in wrapt 
 attention. "What has not the hymn accomplished 
 already ! Thespiritof the Lord is with us ! " thought 
 
i86 THE CHAPEL' 
 
 the man at the altar. His courage increased; his 
 voice grew constantly steadier, louder, and more 
 powerfiil, as he went on reading from the service- 
 book. 
 
 "I poor, miserable sinner, both conceived and 
 born in sin, and likewise through all of my days — " 
 He had never read those words as he did to-day ; 
 he sank down upon the cushion before the altar, 
 glowing with a new feeling. Frail sinners were kneel- 
 ing everywhere before him. It became light about 
 him in the low, gloomy temple; his own ears list- 
 ened with astonishment to the words spoken by his 
 own mouth : devotion flowed in lofty rhythms from 
 his lips. Now, as he knelt, he himself learned what 
 he taught the others. 
 
 After the Confession of Sins he arose, and, with 
 a creaking sound, the whole congregation rose too. 
 The wretched were borne on the wings of grace, 
 and the weak were given strength to stand. Before 
 the preacher turned around again, he looked at 
 them with burning, hasty glances. "And I — a sin- 
 ner — I am to preach to these people!" he medi- 
 tated. "How shall I do it! And yet, see how all 
 their eyes are turned toward me ! They are hungry 
 for words of comfort! Oh, my God! What — what 
 shall I say to them ? " With this overwhelming self- 
 consciousness he turned toward the altar in the 
 usual manner and read the remaining prescribed 
 prayers from his book. 
 
A DAY 187 
 
 He passed out of the chancel. The whole con- 
 gregation followed the movements of the stranger 
 with eagerly strained eyes. It was no longer from 
 curiosity alone, for apparently they felt that he had 
 read to them from the bottom of his heart. He 
 went back to the vestry, and another hymn, " the 
 pulpit verse," was sung. 
 
 While the cantor was singing, the newly ordained, 
 inexperienced clergyman fell on his knees alone 
 in the vestry. No honest man ever felt himself in 
 a greater or more perturbing embarrassment. He 
 turned white as a sheet when he heard the last 
 strains of the pulpit verse. Now it was finished! 
 He had to go — he had to — and he had to preach! 
 
 With a great effort he mastered his feelings, went 
 out into the church, and mounted the pulpit. 
 
 No congregation ever received its minister more 
 quietly, without the slightest sound. It was not only 
 because he was so young and new to them; but 
 a wonderful atmosphere of spiritual humility — of 
 exalted shame — surrounded him with its radiance. 
 There seemed to be a halo of modesty around him, 
 not of awkwardness, but, to repeat, of shame. It 
 is a mysterious fear that a young man feels when 
 he suddenly finds! himself face to face with heaven 
 and earth as the spokesman of God. 
 
 For a while he did not say a word. His pale 
 face, his shining eyes, and the long silence all con- 
 tributed to increase the attention of the old people. 
 
1 88 THE CHAPEL 
 
 Every one who could see looked at him and at him 
 alone. He noticed this, and it made his nerves still 
 more tense. Finally, with his eyes turned toward 
 heaven, he opened his lips : " Father, I have sinned ; 
 before Thee I have done evil!" he uttered with 
 a weak but melodious and therefore very audible 
 voice. 
 
 Was this his text? It <7ould have been most nat- 
 ural to see him put his hand in his pocket, pull out 
 his ;iotes, and preach from them. But — he had 
 folded his hands and could not unclasp them. He 
 did not recall a word of his written sermon ; he did 
 not even remember that it existed. 
 
 After these words he was again silent and looked 
 around. The congregation waited in vain for him 
 to give the chapter and verse of the text, accord- 
 ing to the usual custom. The words were inscribed 
 in his heart, but he did not state that. 
 
 " Father, I have sinned ! I have transgressed 
 against Thee and against my fellow men!" Again 
 he was silent. 
 
 It is a profound truth that old age in every cen- 
 tury looks upon youth as its high priest, its leader, 
 help, and strength. The world depends upon young 
 elements for its progress. God Himself was only 
 thirty-three when He died for humanity and intro- 
 duced, through the cross, a new ideal of life. 
 
 Every hero, every leader, every founder has been 
 a young man. Afterward come senates of vener- 
 
A DAY 189 
 
 able men who undertake to formulate and carry out 
 his ideas. And they guard his enterprises, until a 
 new youth appears who leads them forward another 
 step, whereupon old legislators again begin to exe- 
 cute, maintain, and preserve. This is the character 
 of true progress. Only one young man was God, 
 but He led the way for all the rest. Every upright, 
 well-informed, venerable old man knows this is true; 
 it always has been, and must be in the future if all 
 shall go well. 
 
 But when old people are gathered around their 
 young leader — as in this chapel — with their eyes 
 full of confidence, waiting to hear his voice admon- 
 ishing them and pointing out the right path, it is 
 sublime to see him stand there silent ! Silent, for he 
 is ashamed, and casts his eyes confidently toward 
 heaven. 
 
 It is noble for a young man to be honest. Then 
 he is not a charlatan. The curate was speechless, 
 for what could he say? Still he hopefully directed 
 his glances upward. 
 
 For the third time he opened his lips and said : 
 "Father, forgive me! Forgive me for what I have 
 ventured — I have dared to appear among these 
 people as your prophet! I who would speak to you 
 am a sinner; and you who expect words of comfort 
 and grace from me are sinners. What shall we say to 
 each other? Let us pray. Almighty God, our Lord, 
 King of Heaven and Earth, Lord of Hosts, God 
 
I90 THE CHAPEL 
 
 of Sabaoth. Consider not our wretchedness. Our 
 infirmity lies before Thee ; our bones are crushed, 
 and the Angel of Death breathes upon our withered 
 limbs. But thou, O Lord, dost not trample upon 
 the fallen; Thou dost not quench the smoking 
 flax; and Thou sendest food from Thy table to him 
 who eateth among dogs. We come to Thee hun- 
 gry and naked; our souls are in the dark, and our 
 bodies are in the cold. Christ Jesus, Thou Sun 
 of Grace, rise and spread Thy light over the land 
 of the unrighteous : the ground is parched, and its 
 wide fissures yawn from thirst. Our basins contain 
 no water, the clouds are sealed and give no rain. 
 But we have learned that Thou lovest us ! Thou hast 
 not despised the wretched! O Lord, how couldst 
 Thou care for us? Thou hast descended and shown 
 mercy to the blind. Thou hast healed the leper and 
 raised the dead. Thou hast not scorned to eat with 
 sinners : Thou art our friend! Thou hast interceded 
 for us with Thy Father: Thou hast sweat blood 
 from deep anguish. Thou hast delivered Thyself 
 into the hands of the enemy for our sake, and hast 
 not feared the cross. Thou, O Son, Jesus Christ, 
 who hath conquered death, art my choice this day, 
 and my heart loves Thee. I know that I may share 
 the fruits of Thy victory, and I believe that Thou 
 wouldst call me Thine. Thou art my Health. All 
 the clouds of sin have disappeared. I love Thee, 
 O Lord, above all things, above all things in heaven 
 
A DAY 191 
 
 and earth. Thou art the One who renewest all for 
 me. My limbs were crushed, but nowthey have been 
 made whole. I believe that Thou wilt love me! Pains 
 will then pass away, and my dying soul will l?e 
 revived. The vesture of my spirit was black, but I 
 will cast off my wicked character and flee from my 
 evil ways. Yet what am I able to do? Thou alone 
 haststrength; let Thy blood flow into my veins, that 
 I may become a new person, such as I have never 
 been before." 
 
 Thus he continued, and his whole introduction 
 became one unbroken prayer. Finally he bowed his 
 head to repeat the Lord's prayer silently with the 
 congregation. As he stood leaning against the pul- 
 pit and was about to say Amen, he happened to cast 
 his eyes toward a corner of the church that he had 
 not observed before. There he discovered a figure 
 which did not seem old. "That is surely their mother, 
 and she has probably lost her husband at sea," he 
 thought. Because of her rags, it seemed, she had 
 hidden herself in this corner. She looked consump- 
 tive and exhausted from overwork. In her emaci- 
 ated face her eyes seemed very large and glistened 
 with a light that was half despair and half love. 
 
 The preacher, who up to this time had merely 
 improvised his introduction, suddenly remembered 
 that he ought to have a subject for his sermon. An 
 unprepared speaker has the advantage of being sus- 
 ceptible to reciprocal impressions from his audience 
 
192 THE CHAPEL 
 
 and can thereby enter into an even more intimate 
 relation or union with them. When the address is 
 written in a study it is certain to answer the pur- 
 pose at home; but whether it will pass over the 
 heads of the prospective listeners is something one 
 cannot know. The preacher got up and read the 
 Gospel for the day: it was the fifth Sunday after 
 Trinity and told of the miraculous draught of fishes, 
 Luke V. After he had read it, he said : " The subject 
 for our consideration this morning will be ' God 
 feeds the fatherless at His table and lends His ear 
 to the prayer of the widow.'" 
 
 When he repeated this, the congregation rose, as 
 was the custom, but the members looked at him 
 with not a little astonishment, for they had not 
 heard such a topic from the pulpit before, even 
 though it resembled a Scriptural text. Every one 
 present had lost a father, husband, or wife. Every 
 word he spoke struck home. He linked his subject 
 and text together, and told how Christ had called 
 fisher-folk to be His first disciples and they had be- 
 come fishers of men. But how should that be done 
 henceforth? Not by going out among the heathen 
 and preaching to them, as Peter had gone, but by 
 doing godly acts of charity in mutual sympathy 
 among themselves, loving, feeding, and clothing one 
 another. In this way they would win one another, 
 and would all be won for God. They would gather 
 one another in and would themselves be gathered: 
 
A DAY 193 
 
 they were fishermen, but also fishes caught in God's 
 great draught. "And how does God feed the father- 
 less at His table?" he continued. "God gives food 
 and raiment to orphans even in this life, when people 
 imbued with His spirit receive them into their 
 homes; for charity practiced by man is God's own 
 charity, and He lends His ear to the prayers of the 
 broken-hearted when His spirit exhorts, calls, and 
 compels the man of means to help him who has 
 nothing." 
 
 Obviously, there was nothing remarkable in 
 the clergyman's presentation, unless it be that he 
 adapted his method to his congregation; and it 
 seemed strange to be addressed as fishermen, which 
 they had always been. He spoke with both fervor 
 and sense; he simply talked as one friend to an- 
 other, and finally felt so much at home in the pulpit 
 that his sermon resembled an interesting conversa- 
 tion, which, naturally, is always carried on without 
 notes. The curate said nothing wonderful, worthy 
 of record; but the greatness of Christianity lies in 
 being small, and the road to blessedness is like the 
 narrow and hardly visible path through a green 
 meadow, where oaks grow, and a few lofty poplars 
 mark the distant goal. 
 
 When the minister saw how the congregation 
 seemed cheered, his own spirits rose with Christian 
 joy, and at last the leaning old chapel appeared to 
 him a home of light. "This is the Father's forgive- 
 
194 THE CHAPEL 
 
 ness," he concluded, " that we believe in the Son ; 
 for when Christ gives us life by living within us so 
 that we flee from sin, then sin has no more power, 
 and wrath cannot harm us. This is like a candle put 
 in a dark room : he who hath no faith is already con- 
 demned; but whosoever believeth in the Son and 
 remaineth steadfast in love shall never be judged. 
 Amen." 
 
 The people passed out of the church. It was noon- 
 . time and a very beautiful summer day. 
 
 Outside the chapel the curate was greeted again 
 by a few lame and tottering ^gures, who lingered 
 there and by their kind glances seemed to express 
 appreciation of the sermon. Afterwards, like the 
 rest, they crawled into their respective homes. 
 
 "Where shall I go for dinner?" This trivial 
 thought passed through his mind when he was 
 walking alone near the church. He had been up 
 since five o'clock, had driven many miles, and, pro- 
 saically speaking, was hungry. 
 
 He pictured in his mind the woman in the chapel 
 corner. It was strange he did not see her outside. 
 In all probability she had gone home to her chil- 
 dren, who were perhaps hungrier than she, because 
 they were in good health. 
 
 After a short time he reached the top of a hill, 
 which offered a broad view, not only over the en- 
 virons of the chapel, but far out to sea. Here he 
 saw a silent, motionless figure resting against a high. 
 
A DAY 195 
 
 sharp, moss-covered stone, her eyes constantly fixed 
 on the water. He approached and found it was she. 
 There stood the mother gazing into the distance 
 after the father. 
 
 "How do you do?" he said. 
 
 The poor woman started. She recovered, how- 
 ever, when she recognized the man who had just 
 preached so consolingly to her and promised her 
 children a father. Her face was no longer attractive; 
 yet he could plainly see that she was one of those 
 in whom the physical form had once been beautiful 
 while the soul was so still. 
 
 "Come, my friend, and let us go to your chil- 
 dren," he said. "They are waiting for you; it is time 
 for dinner." 
 
 " Pastor," she answered, " I am expecting the 
 south fishing-fleet home. It ought to be here soon." 
 
 "Is your husband with the fleet?" 
 
 She looked at him astonished, as though asking 
 if he knew her history. "Jonas," she replied slowly, 
 "is a wild and daring sea-bird." 
 
 "Jonas? Is your husband's name — " 
 
 " God only knows where he is. But if he is n't 
 drowned, he ought to come home with the fleet, sir." 
 
 " Have confidence ! But you must n't stand there 
 gazing on the gloomy sea; come along with me and 
 we '11 go to your children." 
 
 "You, pastor, visit us? No — oh, no — " 
 
 " Don't be distressed, it is Sunday to-day ; come ! " 
 
196 THE CHAPEL 
 
 She turned away from the water and followed the 
 good, friendly minister. After walking a short dis- 
 tance together they met the tall, gray-haired old can- 
 tor, who seemed to be looking for the curate and, 
 as soon as he saw him, came forward almost with 
 open arms. "Your Reverence," he said, "I have 
 been looking for you ; I have a modest question to 
 ask, provided it will give no offense." 
 
 " Not at all, my friend." 
 
 "Well, you See — our regular chaplain, Mr. Ek, 
 is ill. He lives in the parsonage three miles from 
 this church; and if Your Reverence wants to visit 
 him this noon — following the general custom of 
 ministers — the only way, reverend sir, is to walk, 
 for we fisherrtien don't keep horses — and — " 
 
 "I have no intention of visiting him; I don't 
 know him." 
 
 "Ah, I 'm glad of that. Well, I thought, pastor, 
 if you would n't refuse a poor old cantor, why I 
 have a simple — very simple dinner to offer, the 
 kind that less fortunate and lower-class people 
 have." 
 
 "This man must be educated," thought the 
 curate, "since he has learned as a preamble to de- 
 preciate his own value and count himself among 
 the lower classes, which is done only by so-called 
 cultured people." This self-abasement made a bad 
 impression on the young man. Nevertheless he 
 answered very kindly: "I thank you for the invi- 
 
A DAY 197 
 
 tation. I have never accustomed myself to rich 
 food." 
 
 « 
 
 "Well, then — that's fine — please come along 
 with me and enter my humble cottage." He pointed 
 toward the buildings south of the church, and his 
 house was obviously the highest and largest of them 
 all. " Do come, pastor; but I must make a humble 
 apology, for I am a widower^ you see, and another 
 has charge of the household, that is — Still, I hope 
 Your Reverence will pardon all." , 
 
 "Thank you, cantor, but I have already been 
 invited to dinner." 
 
 " What? " said the patriarch,straighteningup and 
 looking around astonished." Where? By whom? Is 
 it possible that any one has got ahead of me? I 
 don't believe there is any one in the chapel who can 
 entertain you, pastor." 
 
 " I am to take dinner with this woman and her 
 children." 
 
 Nobody can describe the expression in the face 
 of the other two at this answer. The poor woman, 
 pale, yet secretly glad, looked at the curate with 
 strange alarm. The cantor wrinkled his nose. 
 
 "With her? Do you know this woman, worthy 
 sir?" 
 
 " I have only just met her to-day." 
 
 " She has eight or nine children. Your Reverence 
 — whether she has, a chair to sit on, I cannot say; 
 and as for anything to eat, it will certainly not be 
 
igS THE CHAPEL 
 
 food — hm^but, of course, the gentry always like 
 to have their joke." 
 
 "I am not joking. I am well aware that my good 
 hostess is poor, for I have already been in her house 
 and seen her children." 
 
 Sudden blushes and pallor alternated on the face 
 of the astonished mother. 
 
 "But," continued the curate, "I am poor my- 
 self, and I am the servant of Him who has prom- 
 ised His kingdom to every pious sufferer." 
 
 "You don't know this woman, my dear sir. I 'm 
 ashamed to say she 's the worst in the whole neigh- 
 borhood. I don't mean she 's the poorest, for who 
 is n't poor and miserable, alas ! on this coast of ours ; 
 nor yet the most stupid, although no sensible per- 
 son would have so many children, and we in these 
 barren skerries look out for that; but," he added 
 hastily, when he saw the curate's indignation, "her 
 father was — " 
 
 "Oh — keep still! You hold your tongue, Ola 
 Svenson ! " cried the woman. 
 
 A lofty, almost noble anger appeared suddenly 
 on her countenance when she heard her father 
 mentioned. 
 
 "Yes — Your Reverence," interrupted the can- 
 tor, "you should know with what kind of people 
 you are associating and the places you visit, so that 
 you won't soil your own hands, as they say. Because 
 her father was a thief, sir, a big thief, who was 
 
A DAY 199 
 
 flogged at the whipping-post in Kalmar. I know all 
 about it — everybody knows it here — and the 'sins 
 of the fathers shall be visited upon' — " 
 
 " Has she herself ever stolen anything?" asked 
 the clergyman with a stern look at the patriarch. 
 
 "Oh — noj I don't say that. No, indeed, I'm 
 sure she has n't. She is honest, all right, so far as 
 that goes, and if anybody should accuse her of dis- 
 honesty, I 'd be the first to defend her, for I have 
 known her ever since she was a child, and she used 
 to sing for me ; but her father was a thief, and that *s 
 the reason she 's so poor." 
 
 "I '11 tell you, father, how that Scripture verse 
 reads which you began to quote but did not finish. 
 God says, the sins of the fathers shall be visited 
 upon the children 'of them that hate me,' and 
 mercy shown ' unto thousands of them that love 
 me' — Have n't you heard that? The glory and 
 good deeds of the fathers, as you well know, will 
 not bring honor to mean and worthless children; 
 neither will the transgressions of the fathers bring 
 evil and disgrace to children who are more worthy 
 than their parents. It maybe that she has to struggle 
 with poverty as a consequence of her father's crime, 
 to which you refer; and yet much of her sufi^ering 
 may be the fault of her neighbors, if they are un- 
 kind or foolish enough to refuse aid to defence- 
 less individuals who have done no harm and are 
 merely the victims of their parents' mistakes. But 
 
200 THE CHAPEL 
 
 God loathes such injustice and will help all suiFerers 
 not helped by man. I am still determined to be the 
 guest of this mother and her children. Perhaps we 
 shall have nothing for dinner — I have not had any- 
 thing to eat since five this morning — and yet — " 
 
 The cantor turned away with a slight bow, angrily 
 muttering between his teeth: "I should think they 
 ought to find out what kind of people they are 
 dealing with and make some distinction. But that's 
 the way of those young cocks when they first come 
 out of the seminary. When they get older, they '11 
 change," he added quietly to himself, and walked 
 off. 
 
 The other two left the chapel hill and finally 
 came to the seashore, where the little hut was situ- 
 ated, secluded and apart from the village. The 
 ragged children came running out, and soon the 
 mother was so surrounded that she could hardly 
 walk. The oldest boy, whom we know already as 
 the spokesman of his brothers and sisters, opened 
 the door with a bearing that lacked neither polite- 
 ness nor charm. 
 
 A pleasant odor welcomed the party in the door- 
 way. The mother's face brightened immediately. 
 The children had decorated the room with boughs 
 and leaves and strewn chopped spruce on the floor 
 to please her when she returned from church. 
 "Jonas will like this when he comes," she said, and 
 walked in. 
 
A DAY 201 
 
 ^"Mother, you are rich," said the curate, "to 
 have so many children, and all so healthy and ac- 
 tive! It is unfortunate that you seem to be a little 
 sickly now; perhaps that is due to overwork. But 
 try to be happy, don't get weary ; sioon your hus- 
 band will come home, and there will be lots of fish 
 in the house." 
 
 " Fish ! Fish ! Fish ! " This treble cry from all the 
 children had both a fearful and a highly characteris- 
 tic tone. They were islanders- — "ichthyophagists" 
 — to whom fish is the embodiment of all good 
 things in life. Fish represents money, clothes, house, 
 and home, because it is the means of obtaining all 
 these. There was something very coarse in the ex- 
 clamation, but it was softened in the curate's ear 
 when he remembered that one must forgive starv- 
 ing children for calling out the name of their first, 
 greatest, and most innocent necessity with a certain 
 wild and feverish enthusiasm. 
 
 " Keep still, youngsters ! " commanded the 
 mother. 
 
 "Tell me," said the curate, to change this un- 
 pleasant subject, "have you ever been in Kalmar? 
 I don't understand; but it seems to me I have seen 
 your face somewhere." 
 
 "No," she answered, "I was born on one of 
 these islands, and have never been in any city ex- 
 cept Karlskrona," she added with a very melan- 
 choly but sweet expression in her face. 
 
202 THE CHAPEL 
 
 "That was to see grandpa, sir, in jail," uttered 
 the nine-year-old spokesman cheerfully and, as it 
 seemed, entirely ignorant of both the purpose of 
 the prison and his grandfather's fate. 
 
 The young clergyman shuddered. "Let's not 
 talk about it," he said, again changing the subject. 
 "You have a good many children; I assume that 
 you haven't lost any." 
 
 "No," she replied, " they are all living." 
 
 "This is God's method of bestowing His bless- 
 ing. We seldom hear of very poor people losing 
 any children." 
 
 "It's a great joy, too, when one has anything 
 to give them, the poor things, and one need not 
 be afraid they may be driven to become at last — " 
 
 What they might become she did not say audi- 
 bly. But the simple, artless boy, the oldest son, 
 exclaimed without mercy, "Thieves.? Oh, no — we 
 won't be like grandpa, no, sir! I'm going to be a 
 sailor, and go far, far away like my father and earn 
 lots of money and come home and get grandpa out 
 of jail." 
 
 Such are the pictures painted by youth with all 
 its hope and enthusiasm ! Even the mother caught 
 the boy's cheerful spirit, a sudden glimmer of joy 
 passed over her emaciated face, and her big eyes 
 began to glisten. 
 
 Again the curate tried to change the topic of the 
 conversation by saying, "Haven't you the largest 
 
A DAY 203 
 
 brood of children in the whole village ? I dare say 
 the cantor has n't very many." 
 
 "The cantor? He has no children, sir. He had one 
 son who died several years ago; so it's no wonder 
 he is rich and lays by large sums of money every 
 year from fish, since he has nobody to eat it up." 
 " Still he does not have our Lord's greatest bless- 
 ing. God loves him less than you, and he seemed 
 to me rather proud and uncharitable." 
 
 "You mustn't think ill of him, pastor; he is 
 quite a nice old fellow and not wicked, though he 
 is the richest and most prominent man in the sker- 
 ries. He has five boats in the big fishing-fleet, sailed 
 by his own crew, so you must expect him to be a 
 little haughty. I used to sing pretty hymns for him 
 when I was a little girl, and he was always so strict, 
 but after all the trouble we sang real well." 
 "Do your children sirig too?" 
 "Oh, yes," exclaimed the spokesman. 
 "Keep quiet when other people are talking." 
 "But my sister, sir, sings out of tune!" 
 " Sister? " The curate looked round at the little 
 girls. 
 
 "Oh, no, not any of these." 
 "Have you a sister somewhere else?" 
 "Sure — Lena, of course." 
 "Then you have more children, mother?" 
 " Yes, pastor, the oldest girl is away from home 
 working. She is twelve years old." 
 
204 THE CHAPEL 
 
 "Oh, I tell you, she's so nice and grand and 
 dressed up fine ; if she would only come home so 
 that we could see her pretty soon," said the spokes- 
 man. 
 
 "Where does she work?" asked the curate with 
 a sudden presentiment. 
 
 "At Varnanas, sir." 
 
 "Aha!" he exclaimed, "that's the face I was 
 trying to remember. I knew I had seen it some- 
 where. Mother, I can greet you from your kind 
 and beautiful daughter. It was because of the re- 
 semblance to her that I recognized you." 
 
 "What, sir?" The mother, and her children 
 looked at him with eyes sparkling and as much ex- 
 citement as though expecting to hear the world's 
 greatest news. 
 
 " Yes, I can greet you from her ; I met her this 
 morning at Varnanas. I understand now, it must 
 have been she. She looked like you, mother. Your 
 daughter showed me the way, and I am under a 
 certain obligation to her. Has she a good position 
 at Varnanas? Is she working for Mrs. Manner- 
 skantz?" 
 
 "Oh, that's what you consider a good place!" 
 
 "Why so?" 
 
 "She is only a nurse girl for the manager of the 
 estate. I think that's good enough for Lena. Thank 
 Heaven, she has a nice place!" 
 
 "She's dear, fine, and grand!" cried two of the 
 
A DAY 205 
 
 oldest girls. "We saw her when she was home last. 
 She gave each one of us a big penny, and that's 
 worth a lot of fish, sir." ^ 
 
 " Let me see if I have rt't got a little remem- 
 brance with me from her," said the minister, and 
 pulled out a narrow piece of white tape, about two 
 feet long, from his vest pocket. "She dropped this 
 in the path, while I was walking behind her, and 
 I picked it up. I '11 give that to you," he said to the 
 largest of the girls. 
 
 Now the joy became rampant. " What a ribbon ! 
 What a nice ribbon ! That 's Sister Lena 's ! Lena's 
 ribbon! Lena's ribbon!" 
 
 The children ran around, examined the narrow 
 band, which had apparently been either a part of 
 a child's waist or a baby's swaddling-cloth, and tried 
 it on, now over their hair, now on their arms. In 
 their eyes Sister Lena occupied such a high and 
 glorious position that it seemed just as important 
 and remarkable to hear from her as for the young 
 ladies of a nobleman's family to get news from their 
 sister, a countess or baroness, at the royal court. 
 
 The curate's thoughts were interrupted by the 
 opening of the door, and in came the tall, gray- 
 haired cantor. The fisherman's wife began to 
 tremble, but a glance from the newcomer quieted 
 her fear immediately. "Elin!" he said, "I see that 
 you have n't set the table yet for the pastor, and 
 since your husband Jonas, the jolly old soul, is still 
 
2o6 THE CHAPEL 
 
 away and has the keys to the larder with him, so to 
 speak, it is not surprising that you haven't prepared 
 anything better. You have known me, though, from 
 youth — and know full well — and now it would 
 have been my humble -wish and request," he con- 
 tinued with a bow to the preacher, "to have had 
 Mother Elin, her family, and her distinguished 
 guest take dinner' with me to-day. But then I 
 thought she wouldn't come to my house — which 
 she very seldom does, and would n't let the children 
 go up to the centre of the village for the same rea- 
 son that they did n't go to church to-day — and I 
 knewthe pastorwould n't come either without them 
 — therefore I thought, if you would permit it. 
 Mother Elin, I'd have Kersti bring over a few 
 dishes of fish from my place, of our plain islander's 
 food." 
 
 Mother Elin did not answer, but the expression 
 in her face as she stared at the tall, hoary patriarch 
 was exceedingly touching; in all probability she had 
 looked that way when singing her hymns for him 
 as a girl. He seemed a little ashamed and penitent 
 in the presence of the clergyman, while his maid 
 Kersti carried in one heaping dish after another of 
 the islands' richest product. Sea fowl was not for- 
 gotten, nor good bread and fresh butter, and brandy 
 was served in a large bottle of the latest seaman 
 style from the nearest borough, Kristianopel. " 
 
 The boisterous children suddenly became silent 
 
A DAY 207 
 
 and respectful at the sight of all these bounties, and 
 crept into the corners of the room.. One is always 
 confused by anything unusual. In company with 
 their daily guest, hunger, they had been intimate, 
 cheerful, impetuous ; now, before all this food, they 
 stood bewildered and constrained. 
 
 " No, no, my dear Elin, don't bother," said the 
 cantor in a friendly whisper to the woman who, in 
 order to act as hostess in some particular, started to 
 take out her two China plates and a glass ; "just let 
 them be and say nothing. Kersti has got all those 
 things with her in a bundle. And let the youngsters 
 come up to the table. This kind of parson likes that 
 sort of thing. Just behave as if this were nothing 
 extraordinary." 
 
 All began to eat, and the curate on his part also 
 acted as though nothing had happened. For hu- 
 manity's sake he would have preferred to see this 
 charity practiced without his exhortation. But thank 
 Heaven it turned out as well as it did! 
 
 When the meal was well under way, the patri- 
 arch of the skerries began to converse with his 
 real guest, though always with a little timidity and 
 fear. "It is an exceptionally great joy," he said, 
 "and a wonderful grace of God," he continued, 
 "when a fine young minister, whom we have never 
 seen before, pays us a visit on this remote part of 
 the coast. I have also been among people, though 
 a poor man, and I 've seen Kalmar in my day. 
 
2o8 THE CHAPEL 
 
 There 's a fine cathedral in that city, pastor ; only 
 a rich man could have built such a church ! " 
 
 "Yes, it is a beautiful and celebrated build- 
 ing," replied the curate, "a splendid memorial to 
 Charles XI and his great architect, Tessin. With 
 the exception of the Lund Cathedral, there is per- 
 haps not a more magnificent temple in Sweden. It 
 is a pleasure to see the wealthy use their riches to 
 promote what is good and noble on earth; and 
 they can show it much better and in other ways than 
 by erecting buildings." 
 
 "I am of the opinion, sir," interrupted the can- 
 tor, " that the rich would readily do what was good 
 and lovable if the ministers of the Gospel would 
 only tell them to." 
 
 " But the well-to-do," interposed the curate, with 
 a look at the cantor in answer to his private excuse, 
 "who are Christians themselves ought to remember 
 their duties toward their neighbors, even though 
 the minister is not present, for he cannot be with 
 them constantly." 
 
 "Eat, Mother Elin, and give Lars some more," 
 urged the old man with a friendly glance at the 
 disturbed woman and her bashful brood. " Eat, my 
 dear children!" 
 
 "When you 're getting old, it 's a pleasure," con- 
 tinued the speaker, "to recall your boyhood. I was 
 once as young as you, sir," he |said with a tearful 
 look at the curate ; " I don't believe I was so hand- 
 
A DAY 209 
 
 some and light-haired, sir — still — pardon me if I 
 ask how old you are." 
 
 "Twenty-three." 
 
 "Great heavens! Twenty- three years — yes, that's 
 a pleasure. I also have been twenty-three. But the 
 old men who came to preach to us, while they spoke 
 like you in the church, sir, they did n't act like you 
 outside, and therefore — the cantor became what 
 he is and behaves as he did to-day, sir. Eat some 
 of the fowl, too, my dear Mother Elin. Your hus- 
 band will surely be home very soon with the rest of 
 the crowd! This is good wild duck, don't you think? 
 Eat, Jakob, Sven — " 
 
 " Don't urge them so much, father; they have n't 
 had a good meal perhaps for several days. You 
 might make them sick now by your charity, as 
 before by — " 
 
 Theold man interrupted suddenly," Don'tthink 
 ill of us here on the coast, sir. I have never been 
 an enemy of poor people, even though I spoke 
 rather harshly to-day; but I did n't know you, sir; 
 I thought you would choose the kind of people 
 that everybody else does." 
 
 " Everybody else does ? There Is no minister who 
 is not the friend and protector of the poor." 
 
 " Don't say that, sir — pardon me — for when the 
 minister comes, he tries to get into the homes of the 
 highest and wealthiest, and he never sees the poor 
 man except to snub him and tell him to go to work 
 
210 THE CHAPEL 
 
 and earn his living. Just as if there were plenty 
 of work and money ! Drink some of this, pastor ! 
 Drink, Mother Elin! Therefore, you can under- 
 stand, sir — since we always follow the example of 
 the better class — why we also are ashamed of the 
 poor, God help us, and don't like to have any one 
 go in and see how they live here on the islands." 
 
 "Let us say nothing more about the subject. I 
 hope your kindness will last, even after I am gone. 
 How does it happen that you have no wife and 
 children?" 
 
 "Children? Wife and children — wife and chil- 
 dren — Eh, well, sir — they are dead, they — I am 
 ninety-one years old. Your Reverence — I was liv- 
 ing in King Fredrik's time." 
 
 "So God has not blessed you with his greatest 
 
 " Children, sir? That blessing costs money." 
 The young curate looked at the aged man at his 
 side with a certain feeling of repugnance. The can- 
 tor saw it, and said with rather a blank smile, " I 
 don't suppose you are married, pastor, are you?" 
 "No." 
 
 " Well, there you are. I suppose you '11 want 
 about a dozen; young people always do." 
 "That matter is entirely in God's hands." 
 "Oh, yes, of course — yes, certainly." 
 "But — naturally — if one has naughty, wicked, 
 vicious children, then — " 
 
A DAY 211 
 
 " It 's no blessing. No, certainly not." 
 
 "Still, I think — if you have a good, tender wife 
 and you possess the same desirable qualities as she 
 — the children, with the help of God, will seldom 
 become wicked." 
 
 "A good wife, yes. Yes, certainly." 
 
 "To be sure, there are exceptions, and accidents 
 may happen. Nevertheless, if those who marry love 
 each other, I believe — " 
 
 "Your Reverence, a poor man must make a liv- 
 ing, and he marries the richest girl he can get. On 
 these rocky islands, among us poor wretches, it 
 means simply that I — one marries the least pov- 
 erty-stricken girl one can find." 
 
 "That's the principle you followed. I am not 
 acquainted with your adventures, father, but such 
 a method might not give you the kindest wife 
 possible." . 
 
 "Well, she died forty years ago, and I am still 
 living in the house I got with her. Now I have 
 enough fish as long as I live. One can't ask any- 
 thing more." 
 
 "Was that all the pleasure you received, cantor? 
 Not even any children ! " 
 
 "Children eat you out of house and home, sir. 
 I had a son — a regular rascal. God have mercy on 
 him; he died ten years ago." 
 
 "But did you notice these eight children, father? 
 They had decorated the place to please their 
 
212 THE CHAPEL 
 
 mother, and never said a word about food, when 
 she came from church." 
 
 "Well, they 're not used to anything better, poor 
 things." 
 
 "Your son was, though, as I understand. Is that 
 the reason he was so self-willed?" 
 
 "One pleases the youngsters as long as one has 
 the means. And yet, God knows — he was a scamp 
 —alas!" 
 
 "That was the fellow who helped grandpa steal, 
 sir," exclaimed the oldest lad, the spokesman. 
 
 The old man looked at him with a grim and 
 frigid glance. 
 
 "Do you already know — boy?" he cried, but 
 interrupted himself 
 
 The curate became attentive at these words. Per- 
 haps he thought this explained the old man's atti- 
 tude toward the poor fisherman's family : " Grand- 
 pa" had led the cantor's son astray. 
 
 "Yes, my God!" exclaimed the mother, with a 
 suppressed sigh. " If it had n't been for your son, Jan, 
 my father would certainly not have been in jail now." 
 
 The cantor's fixed glances became gloomier and 
 glorfmier. "Yes, God have mercy on us, miserable 
 wretches," he said. 
 
 The preacher shuddered. The evil influence had 
 been in the other direction. It was Jan, the product 
 of the patriarch's glorious economic calculations, 
 who had led the grandfather astray. 
 
A DAY 213 
 
 " Console yourself, old, unfortunate man ! " said 
 the good-natured minister, turning toward the can- 
 tor. " If your son, as it appears, was the cause of the 
 grandfather's crime and the sorrows of these people, 
 you have a good opportunity now to help them 
 like a neighbor, to make amends for all trouble, and 
 obtain for yourself the greatest possible joy during 
 your last days." 
 
 The old man stared at the preacher with a va- 
 cant and astonished look. 
 
 "Yes — plainly speaking — I mean you ought 
 to take these children, feed them, and educate 
 them." 
 
 "They have their own father, Jonas, sir." 
 
 " But I have heard that he went off several days 
 ago, and some one saw his boat capsize.. Perhaps 
 he is—" 
 
 "Drowned, you mean. Yes, Jonas was always a 
 wild bird on the open sea." 
 
 "Well, then, be the protector of the widow and 
 her fatherless children. God has not for nothing 
 left you without dependents." 
 
 The patriarch raised his tall head and looked 
 wonderingly, first at the young, handsome clergy- 
 man by his side, then at Elin and her children. Ap- 
 parently he intended to answer. ' , 
 
 Just then a sudden noise struck their ears. The 
 sound of oars was audible, and the cries along the 
 whole shore rose louder and louder: "They're 
 
214 THE CHAPEL 
 
 coming! They're coming! They're here! They're 
 here!" 
 
 "The fishing-fleet has arrived!" 
 
 "And your five richly laden boats," added the 
 curate expressively. 
 
 But nobody listened to him now or answered his 
 humanitarian suggestion. 
 
 The children rushed up to them. " Father 's 
 coming ! Father 's coming ! " they yelled and dashed 
 out. The rest rose from the table. The blessing 
 after the meal was sudden and brief. "My five 
 boats ! " muttered the old man with a thoughtful 
 calculating look, then took his stick and went out. 
 Even the mother half forgot her guest in her joy at 
 meeting her husband, who had been absent so long. 
 She ran out of the cottage. 
 
 The curate went out also and decided to climb a 
 hill a short distance away, where he could see and 
 enjoy undisturbed the picturesque sight of areturn- 
 ing fishing party. 
 
 To the curate there were many new objects in 
 the extensive, variegated picture before him. It 
 swarmed with life.Everybody in the village, young 
 -and old, had streamed down to the shore, limping, 
 hopping, puffing, laughing, cheering, and waving 
 hats. Thirty boats, filled with sturdy, happy people, 
 men and women, were approaching with quick 
 strokes.The afternoon sun gilded thefishing tackle, 
 and when the boats had finally made their way 
 
A DAY 215 
 
 through reeds and lithe sea-grass, the returning 
 fishermen stepped ashore, with the customary sing- 
 ing. The fish were taken from the nets and tackle, 
 and put in shining heaps on the ground, while the 
 whole scene took on the appearance of the gayest 
 fair, or rather of a family feast. Children joined their 
 parents, helped them sort, pile up, and count the 
 fish, rejoiced over the rich catch, cheered, com- 
 pared their amount with their neighbor's, made a 
 racket, and quarreled a little, and all had a fine time. 
 
 The visiting pastor was really curious to see the 
 celebrated Jonas, the husband of his hostess. Still 
 he remained at a distance watching everything and 
 observing the changes of the motley scene. Occa- 
 sionally he caught a glimpse of his poor pets, the 
 widow's children, and their mother in the crowd. 
 Now and then he could hear a cry caused by too 
 violent jostling. Often the poorest dressed have to 
 give way. 
 
 Suddenly he heard a wild, terrible shriek fol- 
 lowed by loud, prolonged wailings. Amazed, he 
 looked down and saw the eight children in line has- 
 tening away from the happy group. "He did n't 
 come! He'll never come back !" These words were 
 distinctly audible to the clergyman. 
 
 Their father? Then Jonas was lost. 
 
 Cruel sight ! Joy was everywhere ; poverty alone 
 was robbed of its last hope. The wealthy lost 
 nothing. Parents, relatives, and children arrived 
 
2i6 THE CHAPEL 
 
 with a fresh abundance. Now empty barrels were 
 rolled down to the shore ; soon the packing was to 
 begin for shipment to Kalmar, Karlskrona, and 
 perhaps even to Stockholm. Only the fatherless, 
 in a grayish-brown, ragged, mournful procession, 
 turned dismally aside to make way for the rolling 
 casks. It was a miracle, too, that three of the young- 
 est, especially the little fellow who had just learned 
 to walk, were not crushed beneath the large kegs 
 that rushed down the hill to enclose the day's 
 harvest. 
 
 Where did the mother go? She had taken the 
 smallest child on her arm to save it from being 
 ,trampled to death under the feet of the jostling 
 crowd. She went away with her children, afraid of 
 the happiness that surrounded her on all sides, 
 afraid of light, and harassed by the very rays of 
 the sun. The curate's eyes followed her steps. He 
 noticed her seeking a remote spot. She seemed like 
 an exile from life. " Is there not a cloud in the sky 
 to serve as a cover and protection from the burn- 
 ing sun? When sorrow passes over the earth, why 
 should light mock its poverty with joyous rays! 
 But I must not go on like this," exclaimed the 
 curate, interrupting his fantastic monologue. "I 
 still hope to find aid," he said, when he saw the 
 last dark gray rag disappear behind a slender, beau- 
 tiful young birch. "I don't know where they are 
 going now, but I will not let the patriarchal cantor 
 
A DAY 217 
 
 get out of my sight. He must become a new father 
 to them in place of him who was drowned." 
 
 The curate directed his attention again toward 
 , the crowd. The activity had increased, and the Sab- 
 bath was entirely forgotten. Soon he discovered a 
 towering, commanding figure, a head taller than 
 the rest; everything about him that smacked of 
 hymns and church duties had now been completely 
 discarded. The greedy fisherman chief stood among 
 his subordinates and neighbors like a little idol. 
 The preacher looked at him with a feeling akin to 
 disgust. There was no doubt that this man, who in 
 church was the all-powerful leader in the hymns, 
 was now also the centre and director of the other 
 village aff^airs, including the management of the 
 fishing. The grim and eager counting, the sorting 
 of the fish, the struggling with nets, traps, boat- 
 hooks, and all kinds of apparatus — the sharp and 
 harsh voice audible above the clamor of a hundred 
 others — the good supply of bizarre oaths charac- 
 teristic of the skerries — all this was quite discour- 
 aging to the young minister's hope of assistance for 
 his hiding friends. 
 
 The curate began to figure out his own prospec- 
 tive income, and concluded that he could prob- 
 ably provide a temporary relief, but how about a 
 more permanent support? Impossible! He did not 
 know yet the nature of his own pastor's personal 
 charities. He knew from custom that the mother 
 
2i8 THE CHAPEL 
 
 parish would take great precautions to keep the 
 poor of the adjacent territory outside her own dis- 
 trict, and there were no prospects of a poorhouse 
 for the residents of the chapelry. 
 
 With these thoughts he started off, following 
 the direction taken by the eight children and their 
 mother when they disappeared from the scene. He 
 walked quietly, advancing between the trees which 
 here formed a little enclosure. After a time, he 
 heard the sound of words, in the distance, faint but 
 melodious, resembling an address. He came nearer 
 undetected. He could hear the woman repeat sev- 
 eral of the expressions that he himself had used in 
 the morning. 
 
 "What is this?" he thought. 
 
 There sat the mother on a high stone, with her 
 whole little congregation gathered around her on 
 the grass, giving the substance of the sermon which 
 she, but not they, had heard that morning. The 
 listening minister could not help feeling that her 
 words were very much better chosen than his own. 
 They were much more fervent, milder, better suited 
 for exhortation, and directed more to the audience. 
 Moreover, the attention of this little group was 
 absolutely perfect. She spoke of another father for 
 them: a heavenly father. "Now let us be happy," 
 she said with a comforting countenance. Just then, 
 however, a Hood of tears burst forth and rolled 
 down her cheeks. The children sobbed quietly, not 
 
A DAY 219 
 
 loudly and offensively. They sat in a grove so far 
 away that the noise made by the more fortunate in 
 the village did not trouble or wound them. After 
 the mother had recovered, she began to sing a 
 melody not unlike a cradle songi probably com- 
 posed by herselfj for the words pictured her bridal 
 procession, how at fifteen she had danced the merry 
 bridal dance ; and she added a new verse for each 
 successive year, that is, for each one of her children. 
 Jonas, too, the mighty "islander," was described in 
 the refrain of every verse. 
 
 This little service seemed like an evening song 
 to the curate. He finally emerged from his hiding- 
 place. The children gave a loud cry of joy; he had 
 already become their friend. He sat down on a 
 knoll beside them and began to dispel their sorrow 
 by fairy tales. He himself was a man who still loved 
 the lovable, being only twenty-three years old. 
 
 With the mother he discussed a plan for their 
 future. "My only hope, next to God, is my oldest 
 daughter," she said. "Though she is only twelve 
 years old, Lena is an intelligent child. She has a 
 good place, she will help her younger brothers and 
 sisters to get something too." 
 
 "A nurse girl? And working for an overseer 
 only ? What a support ! " thought the curate. It oc- 
 curred to him to go to Varnanas and personally try 
 his luck with Mrs.. Mahnerskantz. Yet he hesitated 
 when he remembered the bad reputation of island- 
 
220 THE CHAPEL 
 
 ers on the mainland. He pictured in his mind the 
 head he had seen near the curtain in the morning, 
 and wondered whether he could associate it with 
 charity. 
 
 "I shall leave here very soon," he concluded. 
 "The sun has gone down. The time is passing. But 
 I shall not forget you." 
 
 " Dear pastor," replied Mother Elin," I can stand 
 the grief quite well to-day. Fresh wounds give no 
 pain. It '11 be worse to-morrow, and still worse the 
 next day. If I only had his body! But the sea is 
 greedy, and the waves are hungry." 
 
 "The Son of God will comfort you." 
 
 "The eye will become dry in time," she said, 
 "and folded hands will be separated. Still sorrow 
 will remain in the heart, and agony is the food of 
 the fatherless." 
 
 He did not venture any further reply. He saw 
 a dark, gloomy circle around her shining eyes. She 
 appeared scarcely to notice her immediate sur- 
 roundings. 
 
 She continued, " The seal barks on the ice, his 
 parent hears him and comes to him. The otter has 
 a friend, and the sea-serpent does not open his jaws 
 for seaweed in vain. So my children have me — 
 but I have nothing for them. When the sea-eagle 
 plunges down he catches pickerel in his claws and 
 carries them home to his urifeathered brood. Little 
 Anna is unfeathered, Sven is unfeathered, and 
 
A DAY 221 
 
 Matts has no clothes. Jakob and Kersti, where is 
 your sea-eagle — who was to bring home pickerel to 
 you? I will tell you where the eagle is. He dug his 
 claws into a big, strong fish, which pulled him down 
 beneath the water. Oh — o-oh! I can see how he 
 struggled with wings and beak — way down — down 
 — down he had to go — had to go — ^nd it was dark 
 — so dark for him down in the deep!" 
 
 At the end of these words, which the unhappy 
 woman had spoken with the expression of a visipn- 
 ary, she sank down overcome with terror near the 
 tree where she had been sitting. The confused chil- 
 dren gazed at her with staring eyes, and were silent 
 from sheer fright. 
 
 After a short time she got up with clear eyes, and 
 appeared to be listening intently. "What 's that? 
 What do I hear?" she exclaimed. "Jonas, that's 
 your own song I hear!" 
 
 The clergyman, who heard nothing, believed the 
 poor woman was delirious. She sat down calmly on 
 a stone, her eyes were fixed on the grass without 
 really looking at anything; she seemed all ears. 
 "It's he! Jonas!" she cried now and then, with 
 convulsive movements. The oldest boy was listen- 
 ing sharply, like his mother. The curate heard noth- 
 ing. "It comes from the north!" said the lad. 
 
 "A merry song, I recognize it!" she cried sud- 
 denly during an interval, starting up, but sitting 
 down again, silent as death. 
 
222 THE CHAPEL 
 
 The minister was amazed. He remembered that 
 these children of nature are reputed to have an 
 extraordinary sense both of hearing and of sight. He 
 looked northward over the sea, but a point of land 
 blocked the view. Finally he also heard a tone like 
 the whistling of the gay summer wind. 
 
 " It 's coming nearer," she said, and sprang up. 
 Beside herself, she lifted the youngest child high 
 in the air as^ if for public exhibition, kissed it, set it 
 again on the grass, and hurried down to the shore. 
 From there one had a magnificent view over the bay, 
 now illumined by the evening sun's most friendly 
 rays. The curate followed the mother. At that mo- 
 ment the bow of a boat swung around the cape to 
 the north, and then another, and still another. 
 
 The woman cried, " That 's the north fishing- 
 fleet returning! Do you see Jonas? He's the steers- 
 man of the first boat. You '11 see, he will land here. 
 I knew he did n't like the south-bound crowd." 
 
 With lively strokes the approaching mariners 
 cleft the seaweed and came ashore to the following 
 song: 
 
 Come, row the vessel home 
 
 From where the billows roam., 
 
 Across the shining foam ! 
 
 Come, heave ashore, lads. 
 The whitefish, pike, and perch, the bream and salmon fair. 
 And spread them vn the grass as golden treasures rare. 
 
 And then good store, lads. 
 
A DAY 223 
 
 Of sturgeon^ carp, sardines, and eels and other fishes. 
 
 Oh, lay them on the good greensward like piles of silver dishes. 
 
 King of the sea, — 
 
 Such, young or old, should the fisherman be. 
 
 When he sails away. 
 
 He 's thrall to the storm. 
 
 Every day. 
 
 But when with his heap 
 
 Of spoil from the deep 
 
 He turns his back 
 
 Past the skerries black. 
 
 Sweet memories often 
 
 His spirit will soften — 
 
 Love and singing and dancing he seeks him 
 
 On land. 
 
 When he 's won his spoil 
 
 From the dark waves' moil 
 
 He will gaily fare 
 
 With his dear-bought share 
 
 To a fragrant meadow 
 
 That boughs overshadow — 
 
 Love and singing and dancing he seeks then,* 
 
 While repeating once more the last part of his 
 "barcarole" a tall man jumped ashore. Scarcely had 
 he seen Elin, when he took her in his arms, pay- 
 ing no attention whatever to the clergyman, and he 
 came near throwing her up in the air just as she had 
 done immediately before with their youngest child. 
 He was a type of genuine sailor, and the exact, 
 
 * Verse translated by Charles Wharton Stork. 
 
224 THE CHAPEL 
 
 enlarged image of the boy whom we have called 
 the spokesman. His face was lean and angular, with 
 a lively, almost reckless expression, and his long, 
 flying hair was covered by a threadbare hat of ludi- 
 crous shape. 
 
 "Now we are rich, Elin!" he cried; "do you 
 see?" 
 
 "What kind of crew are you bringing, Jonas?" 
 
 " Friends and old sailors, every one of them, 
 whom I hired to take home my boats, and who 
 afterwards will go to — " 
 
 "And you did n't get drowned, as they said?" 
 
 "Oh, I went down all right, and my boat was 
 lost. But I came up again, you see, and some good 
 people coming along took me in their tender. But 
 heigh-ho! — that has nothing to do with this. Un- 
 derstand, I own these boats here, all of them loaded 
 to the limit. And now I '11 build a house in the vil- 
 lage, a great, big one ! Even bigger than that old 
 devil's — " 
 
 "The cantor's," said the curate to himself. 
 
 "And then we '11 get grandpa out of jail !" cried 
 the boy spokesman. 
 
 "Yes, indeed." 
 
 "Tell me, though, Jonas," asked his wife seri- 
 ously, "how did you become so rich?" 
 
 "I am a good pilot, you see; there is n't a better 
 one on Kalmar Bay, or on thewhole Kalmar Sound. 
 Well, a foreign vessel, with an English captain. 
 
A DAY 225 
 
 had ventured north of Klippan, between Oland and 
 us, and he did n't know the channels. His crew 
 had pulled me into their tender, when I was swim- 
 ming and splashing in the water, and taken me to 
 his ship. All of a sudden, after sailing a short dis- 
 tance, he ran aground so hard that if it hadn't been 
 for Jonas, I 'm afraid — Well — we worked hard all 
 night, and when I had finally repaired all the dam- 
 age — oh, he was a fine fellow — he gave me a hand- 
 ful of English money. No pilot ever got so much, 
 though no pilot, except God, ever did what Jonas 
 did that night. Since I knew that nobody under- 
 stood such money in the skerries, I went to Kal- 
 mar, to Mr. Nav, to have it exchanged. I told 
 my story and became a big man in the whole town. 
 Then I bought these boaits — hey, Elin, there 's 
 going to be some fishing now! — and a lot of cloth, 
 mutton, cognac, and fine bread. Carry things 
 ashore, my friends, and get them ready! We are 
 going to have refreshments at once, right here on 
 the grass — This is my wife, good and beautiful — 
 three years younger than Jonas himself — and here 
 are eight little urchins: not one of you, boys, has 
 as many as that — one does n't get them on the sea. 
 And if you want to visit me next year about this 
 time, you '11 see my new house, as big as the town 
 hall — one has to have something for such a big 
 family, says old man Nordenankar. But who is that 
 gentleman there? Oh, pur new pastor, I presume! 
 
226 THE CHAPEL 
 
 Well, I 'm a regular sea-gull, sir; you '11 have to 
 pardon me. I should have kept still; maybe you, 
 pastor, talked this morning to these people out 
 here, and maybe to Elin, too. So, I have to talk now 
 at nightfall, for each one has his own time to preach, 
 as they say in Kalmar." 
 
 Just then another boat came round the point. 
 " Look, there 's my fourth," cried Jonas; "she 's a 
 little slow, not so swift as the other three, and yet 
 she carries my most valuable cargo." Mother Elin 
 gazed at the approaching skiff with wide open eyes ; 
 she thought her husband rich enough already. The 
 curate also looked in the same direction. The sturdy 
 rowers put ashore, and a girl of eleven or twelve 
 jumped out. 
 
 "Yes, Elin," said Jonas, "you mustn't wonder 
 why I stayed away so long, for I have got together 
 a good many things, and done quite a lot. Last of 
 all I stopped at Varnanas, as you see ; I was there 
 a couple of hours ago and visited the Manner- 
 skantz family. Between you and me — I brought 
 back to them a very good friend who had been 
 aboard that English ship I told you about, and 
 who would have gone to the bottom, with every- 
 thingelse,if it had n't been for the Lord and Jonas. 
 Well, you can understand why I was so welcome 
 at Varnanas, though an islander. The face of one 
 person in particular soon got its color back at seeing 
 this dear friend, who had returned as though from 
 
A DAY 227 
 
 the jaws of death. Now, you know, Elin, the bet- 
 ter class think they can't show gratitude toward us 
 in any way except by money — so, being a shore- 
 dweller, I took what was offered — and that's all 
 right. You '11 see they gave me quite a sum. Then 
 I went down to the overseer'^ to find out how 
 Helena was, and when I saw her sitting there, 
 rocking the cradle and singing, it made me feel 
 happy. I kissed her, and I happened to think that 
 I too wanted my child at home. I spoke to the 
 overseer and, although he did n't like to have her 
 go, we finally came to an agreement. So I took my 
 Helena along down to the boats, and here she is, 
 as you see. She 's named after you, mother, and in 
 time she '11 be just as pretty and good as you." 
 
 The beautiful scene of the reunion — the happi- 
 ness of the children — the fresh color that appeared 
 on fair Helena's pale cheeks at the return to her 
 home — the mother's pride at the sight of such a 
 large family which she could now feed and clothe 
 — the young clergyman's delight — 
 
 But wait: this narrative occupies only one day, 
 Sunday, and it is now almost six o'clock, when the 
 Sabbath ends. 
 
 The kind, benevolent minister took his farewell, 
 left the chapel, and made his way to the mother 
 church and the residence of the rector. 
 
 If the story did not end here, much could be 
 told which happened later. It should be mentioned 
 
228 THE CHAPEL 
 
 how the preacher of the chapel, whose illness had 
 led to the unexpected sermon of the day, died a 
 short time afterwards, and how the popular young 
 curate became his successor, first as substitute dur- 
 ing the year of grace, and then as regular chap- 
 lain. It might be told how the magnate, the cantor, 
 also departed this life the day after information had 
 come from Karlskrona that the imprisoned grand- 
 father, weighed down by toil and age, had ended 
 his days beside an anchor-bill in one of the anchor 
 shops. The problem of his release from prison, so 
 much desired by his grandchildren — had such a 
 release been permitted by law — was therefore set- 
 tled for them. It should be described also how the 
 active and sturdy Jonas built his new house, and 
 soon became through deed and counsel his neigh- 
 bors' foremost guide, friend, and leader, both in 
 the fishing vocation and in other conditions of life. 
 It ought to be pictured further how the energy of 
 the new chaplain reformed the skerries into a home 
 of peace and love, and how he confirmed Helena 
 at the age of fifteen. She was eleven or twelve years 
 younger than he, but is that such a big difference ? 
 Years came and went, but the chaplain would 
 never move from his little place. He had allied 
 himself too closely with the parishioners. Born of 
 peasant parents, he found his happiness in a circle 
 of good, sensible, and industrious country people, 
 who were ennobled through his prayers and holy 
 
A DAY 229 
 
 care. When the minister of a congregation agrees 
 with and solicits the advice of its best and most 
 prominent member — as was the case with the chap- 
 lain and his father-in-law, the mighty fisherman, 
 Jonas — it will almost always turn out well. The 
 skerries, often rough, scraggy, barren, and terrible 
 to behold, enjoy in many of their concealed coves 
 a mild balmy wind, and the summer smiles a long 
 time behind the shelter of the clifis. 
 
 THE END 
 
PUBLICATIONS OF 
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 THE SCANDINAVIAN MONOGRAPHS 
 
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