A Danish Parsonage Part 21

At twelve they left for Silkeborg. Hardy drove, and Garth rode Buffalo. The Pastor sat by Hardy's side, and told many an interesting anecdote of the places they pa.s.sed. The circ.u.mstances of the Danish families, the tradition of a Kaempehi or tumulus, and the social condition of the people were all known to him. Hardy drove slowly, as the day was warm, and he wished to spare his horses, and it was not until a little after five that they reached the hotel at Silkeborg.

Hardy had been there before, with Karl and Axel, and they knew him, and obeyed his telegram to the letter.

"I have a proposition to make," said Hardy, "but I will leave it to my guests to do as they please, I propose we have a row on the lake this evening, but not for long; but to-morrow that we rise at six and charter one of the wheel boats, that is the paddle-wheel boats that are worked by hand, and visit Himmelbjerg, and have breakfast there, and the carriage can meet us at the foot of the hill, at a point to the south of it, and we can drive on to Horsens."

"Excellent!" said Helga, using a Danish expression. "But it will be a long day for my father."

"We should get to Horsens at six, and we can telegraph to the hotel to be ready to receive us at that time," said Hardy. "But the next day is only nineteen English miles to Veile, and would be less fatiguing."

"I like to be tired, Hardy, by outdoor exercise," said Pastor Lindal.

"Your plan is excellent, and is just what I should not only like, but enjoy."

The row on the lake was very pleasant. The Pastor told the story of Bishop Peter applying to the pope to decree a separation of all the married priests from their wives, and how the three sisters of the priest there drew lots who should go to Rome to get a dispensation for their brother to keep his wife. The lot fell on the youngest, and she went to Rome and got the pope's permission; but on the condition that she should have cast three bells, which she s.h.i.+pped at Lubeck, one bell was lost in the sea, and the two others were placed in two churches near Aarhus.

The view from Himmelbjerg has the strong charm of great variety. The lakes are spread out below, amongst woods, heaths, meadows, and cultivated land. The early morning gives the view at its best. There are views and views, but the variety of prospect from Himmelbjerg impresses. Juul S, the lake at the foot of the Himmelbjerg, is at times lovely.

Axel was, however, very hungry. The view might be good, but a growing boy's appet.i.te is good also. He asked his father if he might go to the restaurant in Himmelbjerg and get a bit of Smr-brd (bread and b.u.t.ter). Karl said he wanted to go, too. There had been the long row up the lakes, the walks about Himmelbjerg, and even Frken Helga looked hungry. As soon as they came to the restaurant, the waiter told them that breakfast was waiting for them.

"Waiting for us!" said the Pastor; "it is more likely we shall have to wait for our breakfast."

"I thought that you might prefer that the breakfast should be ready, and I ordered it yesterday. I sent a note up last night," said Hardy.

The breakfast was the more enjoyed from Hardy's thoughtfulness, so much so that when the inevitable porcelain pipe was filled, it was a difficulty to get the Pastor down the Himmelbjerg. When they at last reached the carriage, which a man from the hotel at Silkeborg had driven, as Garth had charge of Buffalo, the Pastor decided to go in the carriage, and not by Hardy's side. Helga, after seeing her father comfortable, got up by Hardy, and talked to him unreservedly.

The bright ripple of Helga's talk was pleasant to hear in its clear transparency. She told Hardy of her father so long as she could recollect, and the great sorrow that fell upon him when her mother died, and how difficult it was to keep him from the bitter memory of his loss; that she was with him at every spare moment, and how at times it was beyond her power to cheer him; but that since Hardy had been with them, her father had scarcely shown a sign of the sorrow they knew was always at his heart.

"It is the way you listen," said Helga, "that my father likes. You cannot, he says, speak Danish as well as we Danes, but your manner of listening is perfect, and that there is a respectful attention impossible to describe."

"I can describe it," said Hardy, laughing. "The fact is, I know Danish not very perfectly, and my whole attention is necessary to grasp what is said."

"I told him so," said Helga; "but he said there is more than that--it was true politeness."

"Well," said Hardy, "you have now explained that you have not so good an opinion of me as your father."

"No," said Helga; "that's not my meaning. I only related what pa.s.sed, and I am not able to judge any one like my father."

"I have heard, however, that you have differed from your father in judging a particular person," said Hardy, "and a man whom your father speaks well of."

"That is Kapellan Holm," said Helga, quickly, "My father has told you about him?"

"Yes," replied Hardy; "but I do not wish you to tell me any more about him, and to prevent your thoughts being occupied by the Kapellan, would you like to drive a few miles?"

"Gladly," replied Helga, using the pretty Danish phrase that so well expressed her meaning.

She insisted on taking off her gloves to drive, and said she could not feel the reins so well, and disliked wearing gloves in hot weather.

Hardy showed her how to hold the reins so as to feel the horses' mouth slightly. She appeared to like to hear the quick sound of the horses trotting.

"How easily they go! There is no difficulty in slackening or quickening their speed, and they obey the least touch on the rein,"

said Helga.

"We have been training them for my mother to drive, and Garth drives well," said Hardy.

"I should so like to learn to ride!" said Helga, carried away by her admiration of the horses.

"That is what I once offered to teach you," said Hardy, "and you replied in the negative so decidedly that I did not like to refer to the subject afterwards."

"Yes; Kirstin said it was not womanly to ride, and that I was not a Bondets" (a peasant girl), replied Helga. "But I do not see that it is different in that respect to driving a horse in a carriage, and if horses are kept, I think that it is useful to be able to ride them.

There was also another reason why I did not wish you to teach me to ride, that I cannot tell you."

"Then do not tell me," said Hardy. "But supposing I am at Rosendal, in May, next year, will there be any objection then, if your father has none?"

"No," said Helga, involuntarily.

"Then I will recollect to bring over an English lady's saddle," said Hardy.

The Pastor, overcome with his walk, his breakfast, and the warmth of the day, had fallen asleep, and woke up to the situation that his daughter was driving the carriage.

"Stop!" he cried; "you will upset the carriage, Helga. You must not drive; you will throw down the horses."

"She has driven for the last ten miles, Herr Pastor," said Hardy.

The worthy Pastor, however, was so decided, that Hardy had to take the reins and drive into Horsens. He had telegraphed and ordered dinner at six, and drove into the hotel yard, but was scarcely prepared to find so many people collected there. They had simply come to see Buffalo, whose reputation had risen after the horse-race. They smoked, spat, criticized, and praised. "Sikken en Hest."

As they came in, Hardy gave a very necessary order to his servant, Robert Garth, namely, to get the horses' feet well washed, as the roads are so sandy.

The dinner was well served, and much praised by Pastor Lindal, who of course had a legend to relate, of Holger Danske, whose sword was buried with him near Horsens. The sword was so heavy that, when it was taken from the Kaempehi, or tumulus, twelve horses could not draw it.

The walls of the house in which it was placed shook, and so much unhappiness occurred that the sword was restored to its resting place in the tumulus, and on its return journey two horses could draw it easily. Holger Danske was so big a man, that when he had a suit of clothes made, the tailors were obliged to use ladders to take his measure; but one day an unfortunate tailor tickled him in the ear with his scissors, and Holger Danske thought it was a flea, and squeezed him to death between his fingers."

"There were giants in those days," said Hardy.

"There is in the Kloster (cloister) Church at Horsens a hole in the wall, across which is an iron cross. Behind this a nun was walled up alive. She had, it was said, been confined of a dog. There is a stone in which a dog is figured, to preserve the recollection of so very extraordinary a circ.u.mstance, and a place is shown where her fingers marked the stone of the wall in her last agony."

"The practice of walling people up," said Hardy, "was very general in Denmark, was it not?"

"Yes, if tradition be true," said the Pastor, "which, as you know, we must receive _c.u.m grano salis_. There is a story of a man walling up his woman-servant, because she cooked a cat for his dinner. He had caught a hare, but a dog had stolen it, so she cooked a cat instead.

This enraged her master, and he walled her up alive."

"Thank you, Herr Pastor, for your legends," said Hardy; "but I should like to walk through the little town, and I dare say Karl and Axel would too, if we may leave you and Frken Helga."

"By all means," said the Pastor, "and Helga will go too."

"No, little father, I will stay with you," said Helga. "You will have no one to fill your pipe, and will feel lonely."

As John Hardy went out, he gave Karl and Axel some money. The boys asked what it was for.

"To buy anything you like, as far it will go," said Hardy.

The boys, however, would not take it; they were sure their father would not wish it, after the expense Hardy had already been put to on their account.