O. T., A Danish Romance Part 26

"There, our Saviour looks down upon us!" said the German Heinrich, and fixed his eyes upon the figure on the cross. "As certainly as He lives may you rely upon the silence of my mouth. He is my Redeemer, who hangs there on the cross, just as he is etched upon my skin, and as he stands along the high-roads in my father-land. Here is the only place in the whole country where the sign of the cross stands under the free heaven; here I wors.h.i.+p: for you must know, Mr. Thostrup, I am not of your faith, but of the faith of the Virgin Mary. Here I have cut into the wood the holy sign, such as is placed over every door in my father-land,--an I, an H, and this S. In this is contained my own name; for H stands for Heinrich; I, for I myself; and S means Sinner; that is, I, Heinrich, Sinner. Now I have completed my wors.h.i.+p, and you have given me a handsome skilling, I shall now go to my bed at the public-house; and if the girl is pretty, and lets one flatter her, I am still young enough, and shall fancy that I am Mr. Thostrup, and have won that most glorious, elegant young lady! Hurrah! it is a player's life which we lead!"

Otto left him, but heard how Heinrich sang:

"Tri, ri, ro, The summer comes once mo!

To beer, boys! to beer The winter lies in bands, O!

And he who won't come here, We'll trounce him with our wands, O!

Yo, yo, yo, The summer comes once mo!"

As, suddenly on a clear sunny day, a cloud can appear, extinguish the warm suns.h.i.+ne, conceal the green coast, and change everything into gray mist forms, so was it now with Otto, who had but just before felt himself so happy and full of youthful joy.

"You can sleep quietly!" said the host, when Otto returned to Slagelse; "you shall be wakened early enough to leave with the mail."

But his rest was like a delirium.

The post-horn sounded in the empty street; they rolled away--it was at daybreak.

"Is that a gallows?" inquired one of the travellers, and pointed toward the hill, where at this distance the cross looked like a stake.

"That is the cross of the holy Anders!" replied Otto; and livingly stood before him the recollections of the evening before.

"Does that really exist?" said the stranger. "I have read of it in the 'Letters of a Wandering Ghost.'"

This was a beautiful morning, the sun shone warmly, the sea was smooth as a mirror, and so much the faster did the steamboat glide away. The vessel with the mail, which had set sail two hours earlier, still lay not far from land. The sails hung down loosely; not a breeze stirred them.

The steamboat glided close past her; the pa.s.sengers in the mail-vessel, the greater portion coachmen, travelling journeymen, and peasants, stood on the deck to see it. They waved greetings. One of the foremost leaned on his knotty stick, pulled off his hat, and shouted, "Good morning, my n.o.ble gentlefolk!" It was the German Heinrich; he then was going to Funen. Otto's heart beat faster, he gazed down among the rus.h.i.+ng waves which foamed round the paddle, where the sunbeams painted a glorious rainbow.

"That is lovely!" said one of the strangers, close to him.

"Very lovely!" returned Otto, and stilled the sigh which would burst forth from his breast.

Scarcely two hours were fled--the cables were flung upon the Nyborg bridge of boats, and the steamboat made fast to the island of Funen.

CHAPTER x.x.xII

"It is so sweet when friendly hands bid you a hearty welcome, so dear to behold well-known features, wherever you turn your eyes. Everything seems so home-like and quiet about you and in your own breast." HENRIETTE HAUCK.

Otto immediately hired a carriage, and reached the hall just about dinner-time. In the interior court-yard stood two calashes and an Holstein carriage; two strange coachmen, with lace round their hats, stood in animated discourse when Otto drove in through the gate. The postilion blew his horn.

"Be quiet there!" cried Otto.

"There are strangers at the hall!" said the postilion; "I will only let them know that another is coming."

Otto gazed at the garden, glanced up toward the windows, where mine of the ladies showed themselves only out of a side building a female head was stretched out, whose hair was put back underneath a cap. Otto recognized the grown-together eyebrows. "Is she the first person I am to see here?" sighed he; and the carriage rolled into the inner court. The dogs barked, the turkey-c.o.c.ks gobbled, but not Wilhelm showed himself.

The Kammerjunker came--the excellent neighbor! and immediately afterward Sophie; both exclaimed with smiles, "Welcome!"

"See, here we have our man!" said the Kammerjunker; "we can make use of him in the play!"

"It is glorious you are come!" cried Sophie. "We shall immediately put you under arrest." She extended her hand to him--he pressed it to his lips. "We will have tableaux vivants this evening!" said she: "the pastor has never seen any. We have no service from Wilhelm; he is in Svendborg, and will not return for two days. You must be the officer; the Kammerjunker will represent the Somnambulist, who comes with her light through the window. Will you?"

"Everything you desire!" said Otto.

"Do not speak of it!" returned Sophie, and laid her finger on her lips.

The mother descended the steps.

"Dear Thostrup!" said she, and pressed, with warm cordiality, both his hands. "I have really quite yearned after you. Now Wilhelm is away, you must for two whole days put up with us alone."

Otto went through the long pa.s.sage where hung the old portraits; it was as if these also wished welcome. It only seemed a night full of many dreams which had pa.s.sed since he was here; a year in the lapse of time is also not so long as a winter's night in the life of man.

Here it was so agreeable, so home-like; no one could have seen by the trees that since then they had stood stripped of leaves and covered with snow; luxuriantly green they waved themselves in the sun's warmth, just as when Otto last gazed out of this window.

He had the red room as before. The dinner-bell rang.

Louise met him in the pa.s.sage.

"Thostrup!" exclaimed she, with delight, and seized his hand. "Now, it is almost a year and a day since I saw you!"

"Yes much has happened in this year!" said the Kammerjunker. "Come soon to me, and you shall see what I have had made for pastime--a bowling-green! Miss Sophie has tried her skill upon it."

The Kammerjunker took the mother to dinner. Otto approached Sophie.

"Will you not take the Kammerjunker's sister?" whispered she.

Mechanically, Otto made his bow before Miss Jakoba.

"Take one of the young ladies!" said she; "you would rather do that?"

Otto bowed, cast a glance toward Sophie; she had the old pastor. Otto smiled, and conducted Jakoba to table.

The Mamsell, renowned through her work-box, sat on his left hand.

He observed the company who, beside those we have already mentioned, consisted of several ladies and gentlemen whom he did not know. One chair was empty, but it was soon occupied; a young girl, quiet in her attire, and dressed like Louise, entered.

"Why do you come so late?" asked Sophie, smiling.

"That is only known to Eva and me!" said Louise, and smiled at the young girl.

Eva seated herself. It was, perhaps, the complete resemblance of their dress which induced Otto to observe both her and Louise so closely, and even against his own will to draw comparisons. Both wore a simple dark brown dress, a small sea-green handkerchief round the neck. Louise seemed to him enchanting--pretty one could not call her: Eva, on the contrary, was ideal; there lay something in her appearance which made him think of the pale pink hyacinth. Every human being has his invisible angel, says the mythos; both are different and yet resemble each other.

Eva was the angel; Louise, on the contrary, the human being in all its purity. Otto's eyes encountered those of Sophie--they were both directed to the same point. "What power! what beauty!" thought he. Her mind is far above that of Louise, and in beauty she is a gorgeous flower, and not, like Eva, a fine, delicate hyacinth. He drew eloquence from these eyes, and became interesting like the cousin, although he had not been in Paris.

The Kammerjunker spoke of sucking-pigs, but that also was interesting; perhaps be drew his inspiration out of the same source as Otto. He spoke of the power of green buckwheat, and how the swine which eat it become mad. From this doubtless originated the legend of the devil entering into the swine. It is only coal-black pigs which can digest green buckwheat; if they have a single white speck upon them, they become ill at eating. "This is extraordinary," exclaimed he.

In his enthusiasm his discourse became almost a cry, which caused Miss Jakoba to say that one might almost think that he himself had eaten green buckwheat.

Otto meantime cut out of the green melon-peel a man, and made him ride on the edge of his gla.s.s; that withdrew Sophie's attention from the Kammerjunker. The whole company found that this little cut-out figure was very pretty; and the Mamsell begged that she might have it--it should lie in her work-box.

Toward evening all were in preparation for the approaching tableaux.