THE EMPEROR OF PORTUGALIA

by

SELMA LAGERLÖF

Translated from the Swedish by Velma Swanston Howard

CONTENTS

BOOK ONEThe Beating HeartGlory Goldie SunnycastleThe ChristeningThe Vaccination BeeThe BirthdayChristmas MornGlory Goldie's IllnessCalling on RelativesThe School ExaminationThe ContestFishingAgrippaForbidden Fruit

BOOK TWOLars GunnarsonThe Red DressThe New MasterOn the Mountain-topThe Eve of DepartureAt the PierThe LetterAugust Där NolOctober the FirstThe Dream BeginsHeirloomsClothed in SatinStarsWaitingThe EmpressThe Emperor

BOOK THREEThe Emperor's SongThe Seventeenth of AugustKatrina and JanBjörn Hindrickson's FuneralThe Dying HeartDeposedThe Catechetical MeetingAn Old TrollThe Sunday after MidsummerSummernightThe Emperor's Consort

BOOK FOURThe Welcome GreetingThe FlightHeld!Jan's Last WordsThe Passing of KatrinaThe Burial of the Emperor

BOOK ONE

THE BEATING HEART

Jan of Ruffluck Croft never tired of telling about the day when hislittle girl came into the world. In the early morning he had beento fetch the midwife, and other helpers; all the forenoon and agood part of the afternoon he had sat on the chopping-block, in thewoodshed, with nothing to do but to wait. 

Outside it rained in torrents and he came in for his share of thedownpour, although he was said to be under cover. The rain reachedhim in the guise of dampness through cracks in the walls and asdrops from a leaky roof, then all at once, through the doorlessopening of the shed, the wind swept a regular deluge in upon him. 

"I just wonder if anybody thinks I'm glad to have that young onecoming?" he muttered, impatiently kicking at a small stick of woodand sending it flying across the yard. "This is about the worstluck that could come to me! When we got married, Katrina and I, itwas because we were tired of drudging as hired girl and farmhandfor Eric of Falla, and wanted to plant our feet under our owntable; but certainly not to raise children!"

He buried his face in his hands and sighed heavily. It was plainthat the chilly dampness and the long dreary wait had somewhat todo with putting him in a bad humour, but they were by no means theonly cause. The real reason for his lament was something far moreserious. 

"I've got to work every day, " he reminded himself, "work from earlymorning till late in the evening; but so far I've at least had somepeace nights. Now I suppose that young one will be squalling thewhole night long, and I'll get no rest then, either. "

Whereupon an even worse fear seized him. Taking his hands frombefore his face he wrung them so hard that the knuckles fairlycracked. "Up to this we've managed to scratch along pretty well, because Katrina, has been free to go out and work, the same asmyself, but now she'll have to sit at home and take care of thatyoung one. "

He sat staring in front of him as hopelessly as if he had beheldFamine itself stalking across the yard and making straight forhis hut. 

"Well!" said he, bringing his two fists down on the chopping-blockby way of emphasis. "I just want to say that if I'd only known atthe time when Eric of Falla came to me and offered to let me buildon his ground, and gave me some old timber for a little shack, if Ihad only known then that this would happen, I'd have said no to thewhole business, and gone on living in the stable-loft at Falla forthe rest of my days. "

He knew these were strong words, but felt no inclination to takethem back. 

"Supposing something were to happen--?" he began--for by that timematters had reached such a pass with him he would not have mindedit if the child had met with some mishap before coming into theworld--but he never finished what he wished to say as he wasinterrupted by a faint cry from the other side of the wall. 

The woodshed was attached to the house itself. As he listened, heheard one peep after the other from within, and knew, of course, what that meant. Then, for a long while he sat very still, feelingneither glad nor sorry. Finally he said, with a little shrug:

"So it's here at last! And now, for the love of God, they might letme slip in to warm myself!"

But that comfort was not to be his so soon! There were more hoursof waiting ahead of him. 

The rain still came down in sheets and the wind increased. Thoughonly the latter part of August, it was as disagreeable as aNovember day. To cap the climax, he fell to brooding over somethingthat made him even more wretched. He felt that he was beingslighted and set aside. 

"There are three womenfolk, beside the midwife, in there withKatrina, " he murmured. "One of them, at least, might have taken thetrouble to come and tell me whether it's a boy or a girl. "

He could hear them bustling about, as they made up a fire, and sawthem run out to the well to fetch water, but of his existence noone seemed to be aware. 

Of a sudden he clapped his hands to his eyes and began to rockhimself backward and forward. "My dear Jan Anderson, " he said inhis mind, "what's wrong with you? Why does everything go againstyou? Why must you always have such a dull time of it? And whycouldn't you have married some good-looking young girl, instead ofthat ugly old Katrina from Falla?"

He was so unspeakably wretched! Even a few tears trickled downbetween his fingers. "Why are you made so little of in the parish, my good Jan Anderson? Why should you always be pushed back forothers? You know there are those who are just as poor as yourselfand whose work is no better than yours; but no one gets put downthe way you do. What can be the matter with you, my dear JanAnderson?"

These were queries he had often put to himself, though in vain, andhe had no hope of finding the answer to them now, either. Afterall, perhaps there was nothing wrong with him? Perhaps the onlyexplanation was that both God and his fellowmen were unfair to him?

When that thought came to him, he took his hands from before hiseyes and tried to put on a bold face. 

"If you're ever again allowed inside your own house, my good JanAnderson, you mustn't so much as glance toward the young one, butmarch yourself straight over to the fireplace and sit down, withoutsaying a word. Or, suppose you get right up and walk away! Youdon't have to sit here any longer now that you know it's over with. Suppose you show Katrina and the rest of the womenfolk that you'renot a man to be trifled with. . .. "

He was just on the point of rising, when the mistress of Fallaappeared in the doorway of the woodshed, and, with a charmingcurtsy, bade him come inside to have a peep at the infant. 

Had it been any one else than the mistress of Falla herself thathad invited him in, it is doubtful whether he would have gone atall, angry as he was. Her he had to follow, of course, but he tookhis own time about it. He tried to assume the air and bearing ofEric of Falla, when the latter strode across the floor of the townhall to deposit his vote in the ballot-box, and succeededremarkably well in looking quite as solemn and important. 

"Please walk in, " said the mistress of Falla, opening the doorfor him, then stepping aside to let him go first. 

One glance at the room told him that everything had been cleanedand tidied up in there. The coffeepot, newly polished and full andsteaming, stood at the edge of the hearth, to cool; the table, overby the window, was spread with a snow-white cover, on which werearranged dainty flowered cups and saucers belonging to the mistressof Falla. Katrina lay on the bed and two of the women, who had cometo lend a hand, stood pressed against the wall so that he shouldhave a free and unobstructed view of all the preparations. Directlyin front of the table stood the midwife, with a bundle on her arm. 

Jan could not help thinking that for once in his life he appearedto be the centre of attraction. Katrina glanced up at himappealingly, as if wanting to ask whether he was pleased with her. The other women, too, all turned their eyes toward him, expectantlywaiting for some word of praise from him for all the trouble theyhad been to on his account. 

However, it is not so easy to appear jubilant when one has beenhalf frozen and out of sorts all day! Jan could not clear his faceof that Eric-of-Falla expression, and stood there without saying aword. 

Then the midwife took a step forward. The hut was so tiny that thatone stride put her square in front of him, so that she could placethe child in his arms. 

"Now Jan shall have a peek at the li'l' lassie She's what I'd calla _real baby_!" said the midwife. 

And there stood Jan, holding in his two hands something soft andwarm done up in a big shawl, a corner of which had been turned backthat he might see the little wrinkled face and the tiny wizzenedhands. He was wondering what the womenfolk expected him to do withthat which had been thrust upon him, when he felt a sudden shockthat shook both him and the child. It had not come from any of thewomen and whether it had passed through the child to him or throughhim to the child, he could not tell. 

Immediately after, the heart of him began to beat in his breast asit had never done before. Now he was no longer cold, or sad, orworried. Nor did he feel angry. All was well with him. But he couldnot comprehend why there was a thumping and a beating in hisbreast, when he had not been dancing, or running, or climbinghills. 

"My good woman, " he said to the midwife, "do lay your hand here andfeel of my heart! It seems to beat so queerly. "

"Why, it's a regular attack of the heart!" the midwife declared. "But perhaps you're subject to these spells?"

"No, " he assured her. "I've never had one before--not just in thisway. "

"Do you feel bad? Are you in pain?"

"Oh, no!"

Then the midwife could not make out what ailed him. "Anyhow, " saidshe, "I'll relieve you of the child. "

But now Jan felt he did not want to give up the child. "Ah, let mehold the little girl!" he pleaded. 

The womenfolk must have read something in his eyes, or caughtsomething in his tone that pleased them: for the midwife's mouthhad a peculiar quirk and the other women all burst out laughing. 

"Say Jan, have you never cared so much for somebody that yourheart has been set athrobbing because of her?" asked the midwife. 

"No indeed!" said Jan. 

But at that moment he knew what it was that had quickened the heartin him. Moreover he was beginning to perceive what had been amisswith him all his life, and that he whose heart does not respond toeither joy or sorrow can hardly be called human. 

GLORY GOLDIE SUNNYCASTLE

The following day Jan of Ruffluck Croft stood waiting for hours onthe doorstep of his hut, with the little girl in his arms. 

This, too, was a long wait. But now it was all so different fromthe day before. He was standing there in such good company that hecould become neither weary nor disheartened. Nor could he begin totell how good it felt to be holding the warm little body pressedclose to his heart. It occurred to him that hitherto he had beenmighty sour and unpleasant, even to himself; but now all was blissand sweetness within him. He had never dreamed that one could be sogladdened by just loving some one. 

He had not stationed himself on the doorstep without a purpose, asmay be assumed. It was an important matter that he must try tosettle while standing there. He and Katrina had spent the wholemorning trying to choose a name for the child. They had been at itfor hours, without arriving at a decision. Finally Katrina hadsaid: "I don't see but that you'll have to take the child and gostand on the stoop with her. Then you can ask the first female thathappens along what her name is, and the name she names we must giveto the girl, be it ugly or pretty. "

Now the hut lay rather out of the way and it was seldom that anyone passed by their place; so Jan had to stand out there ever solong, without seeing a soul. This was also a gray day, though norain fell. It was not windy and cold, however, but rather a bitsultry. If Jan had not held the little girl in his arms he wouldhave lost heart. 

"My dear Jan Anderson, " he would have said to himself. "You mustremember that you live away down in the Ashdales, by Dove Lake, where there isn't but one decent farmhouse and here and there apoor fisherman's hut. Who'll you find hereabout with a name that'spretty enough to give to your little girl?"

But since this was something which concerned his daughter he neverdoubted that all would come right. He stood looking down toward thelake, as if not caring to her how shut in from the whole countrysideit lay, in its rock-basin. He thought it might just happen thatsome high-toned lady, with a grand name, would come rowing acrossfrom Doveness, on the south shore of the lake. Because of thelittle girl he felt almost sure this would come to pass. 

The child slept the whole time; so for all of her he could havestood there and waited as long as he liked. But the worrisomeperson was Katrina! Every other minute she would ask him whetherany one had come along yet and if he thought it prudent to keep theinfant out in the damp air any longer. 

Jan turned his eyes up toward Great Peak, rising high above thelittle groves and garden-patches of the Ashdales, like a watchtower atop some huge fortress, keeping all strangers at a distance. Still it might be possible that some great lady, who had been up tothe Peak, to view the beautiful landscape had taken the wrong pathback and strayed in the direction of Ruffluck. 

He quieted Katrina as well as he could. The child was safe enough, he assured her. Now that he had stood out there so long he wantedto wait another minute or so. 

Not a soul hove in sight, but he was confident that if he juststuck to it, the help would come. It could not be otherwise. Itwould not have surprised him if a queen in a golden chariot hadcome driving over mountains and through thickets, to bestow hername upon his little girl. 

More moments passed, and he knew that dusk would soon be falling. Then he would not be let stand there longer. Katrina looked at theclock, and again begged him to come inside. 

"Just you be patient a second!" he said. "I think I see somethingpeeping out over west. "

The sky had been overcast the whole day, but at that moment thesun [Note: In Swedish the sun is feminine. ] came bursting out frombehind the clouds, and darted a few rays down toward the child. 

"I don't wonder at your wanting to have a peek at the li'l' lassiebefore you go down, " said Jan to the sun. "She's something worthseeing!"

The sun came forth, clearer and clearer, and shed a rose-colouredglow over both the child and the hut. 

"Maybe you'd like to be godmother to 'er?" said Jan of Ruffluck. 

To which the sun made no direct reply. She just beamed for amoment, then drew her mist-cloak about her and disappeared. 

Once again Katrina was heard from. "Was any one there?" asked she. "I thought I heard you talking to somebody. You'd better comeinside now. "

"Yes, now I'm coming, " he answered, and stepped in. "Such a grandold aristocrat just went by! But she was in so great a hurry I hadbarely time to say 'go'day' to her, before she was gone. "

"Goodness me! How provoking!" exclaimed Katrina. "And after we'dwaited so long, too! I suppose you didn't have a chance to ask whather name was?"

"Oh, yes. Her name is Glory Goldie Sunnycastle--that much I got outof her. "

"_Glory Goldie Sunnycastle_! But won't that name be a bit toodazzling?" was Katrina's only comment. 

Jan of Ruffluck was positively astonished at himself for having hitupon something so splendid as making the sun godmother to hischild. He had indeed become a changed man from the moment thelittle girl was first laid in his arms!

THE CHRISTENING

When the little girl of Ruffluck Croft was to be taken to theparsonage, to be christened, that father of hers behaved sofoolishly that Katrina and the godparents were quite put outwith him. 

It was the wife of Eric of Falla who was to bear the child to thechristening. She sat in the cart with the infant while Eric ofFalla, himself, walked alongside the vehicle, and held the reins. The first part of the road, all the way to Doveness, was sowretched it could hardly be called a road, and of course Eric hadto drive very carefully, since he had the unchristened child toconvey. 

Jan had himself brought the child from the house and turned itover to the godmother, and had seen them set out. No one knewbetter than he into what good hands it was being intrusted. And healso knew that Eric of Falla was just as confident at handling thereins as at everything else. As for Eric's wife--why she had borneand reared seven children; therefore he should not have felt theleast bit uneasy. 

Once they were well on their way and Jan had again gone back to hisdigging, a terrible sense of fear came over him. What if Eric'shorse should shy? What if the parson should drop the child? What ifthe mistress of Falla should wrap too many shawls around the littlegirl, so she'd be smothered when they arrived with her at theparsonage?

He argued with himself that it was wrong in him to borrow trouble, when his child had such godfolk as the master and mistress ofFalla. Yet his anxiety would not be stilled. Of a sudden he droppedhis spade and started for the parsonage just as he was taking theshort cut across the heights, and running at top speed all the way. When Eric of Falla drove into the stable-yard of the parsonage thefirst person that met his eyes was Jan of Ruffluck. 

Now, it is not considered the proper thing for the father or motherto be present at the christening, and Jan saw at once that theFalla folk were displeased at his coming to the parsonage. Eric didnot beckon to him to come and help with the horse, but unharnessedthe beast himself, and the mistress of Falla, drawing the childcloser to her, crossed the yard and went into the parson's kitchen, without saying a word to Jan. 

Since the godparents would not so much as notice him, he dared notapproach them; but when the godmother swept past him he heard alittle piping sound from the bundle on her arm. Then he at leastknew the child had not been smothered. 

He felt it was stupid in him not to have gone home at once. But nowhe was so sure the parson would drop the child, that he had tostay. 

He lingered a moment in the stable-yard, then went straight over tothe house and up the steps into the hallway. 

It is the worst possible form for the father to appear before theclergyman, particularly when his child has ouch sponsors as Eric ofFalla, and his wife. When the door to the pastor's study swung openand Jan of Ruffluck in his soiled workaday clothes calmly shuffledinto the room, just after the pastor had begun the service andthere was no way of driving him out, the godparents swore tothemselves that once they were home they would take him severelyto task for his unseemly behaviour. 

The christening passed off as it should without the slightestoccasion for a mishap, and Jan of Ruffluck had nothing for hisintrusion. Just before the close of the service he opened the doorand quietly slipped out again, into the hallway. He saw of coursethat everything seemed to go quite smoothly and nicely without hishelp. 

In a little while Eric of Falla and his wife also came out into thehall. They were going across to the kitchen, where the mistress ofFalla had left the child's outer wraps and shawls. Eric went aheadand opened the door for his wife, whereupon two kittens camedarting into the hallway and tumbled over each other right in frontof the woman's feet, tripping her. She felt herself going headlongand barely had time to think: "I'm falling with the child; it willbe killed and I'll be heartbroken for life, " when a strong handseized and steadied her. Looking round she saw that her rescuer wasJan Anderson of Ruffluck, who had lingered in the hallway as ifknowing he would be needed there. Before she could recover herselfsufficiently to thank him, he was gone. 

And when she and her husband came driving home, there stood Jandigging away. After the accident had been averted, he had felt thathe might safely go back to his work. 

Neither Eric nor his wife said a word to him about his unseemlybehaviour. Instead, the mistress of Falla invited him in forafternoon coffee, muddy and begrimed as he was from working in thewet soil. 

THE VACCINATION BEE

When the little girl of Ruffluck was to be vaccinated no onequestioned the right of her father to accompany her, since thatwas his wish. The vaccinating took place one evening late inAugust. When Katrina left home, with the child, it was so darkthat she was glad to have some one along who could help her overstiles and ditches, and other difficulties of the wretched road. 

The vaccination bee was held that year at Falla. The housewife hadmade a big fire on the hearth in the living-room and thought itunnecessary to furnish any other illumination, except a thin tallowcandle that burned on a small table, at which the sexton was toperform his surgical work. 

The Ruffluck folk, as well as every one else, found the roomuncommonly light, although it was as dim at the back as if adark-gray wall had been raised there--making the room appearsmaller than it was. And in this semi-darkness could be dimly seena group of women with babes in arms that had to be trundled, andfed, and tended in every way. 

The mothers were busy unwinding shawls and mufflers late fromtheir little ones, drawing off their slips, and unloosing thebands of their undershirts, so that the upper portion of theirlittle bodies could be easily exposed when the sexton calledthem up to the operating table. 

It was remarkably quiet in the room, considering there were somany little cry-babies all gathered in one place. The youngstersseemed to be having such a good time gazing at one another theyforgot to make a noise. The mothers were quiet because they wantedto hear what the sexton had to say; for he kept up a steady flow ofsmall talk. 

"There's no fun like going about vaccinating and looking at all thepretty babies, " said he. "Now we shall see whether it's a fine lotyou've brought me this year. "

The man was not only the sexton of the parish, where he had livedall his life, but he was also the schoolmaster. He had vaccinatedthe mothers, had taught them, and seen them confirmed and married. Now he was going to vaccinate their babies. This was the children'sfirst contact with the man who was to play such an important partin their lives. 

It seemed to be a good beginning. One mother after the other cameforward and sat down on a chair at the table, each holding herchild so that the light would fall upon its bared left arm; and thesexton, chattering all the while, then made the three tinyscratches in the smooth baby skin, without so much as a peep comingfrom the youngster. Afterward the mother took her baby over to thefireplace to let the vaccine dry in. Meantime she thought of whatthe sexton had said of her child--that it was large and beautifuland would some day be a credit to the family; that it would grow upto be as good as its father and grandfather--or even better. 

Everything passed off thus peacefully and quietly until it cameto Katrina's turn at the table with her Glory Goldie. 

The little girl simply would not be vaccinated. She screamed andfought and kicked. Katrina tried to hush her and the sexton spokesoftly and gently to her; but it did no good. The poor little thingwas uncontrollably frightened. 

Katrina had to take her away and try to get her quieted. Then abig, sturdy boy baby let himself be vaccinated with never awhimper. But the instant Katrina was back at the table with hergirl the trouble started afresh. She could not hold the child stilllong enough for the sexton to make even a single incision. 

Now there was no one left to vaccinate but Glory Goldie ofRuffluck. Katrina was in despair because of her child's badbehaviour. She did not know what to do about it, when Jan suddenlyemerged from the shadow of the door and took the child in his arms. Then Katrina got up to let him take her place at the table. 

"You just try it once!" she said scornfully, "and let's see whetheryou'll do any better. " For Katrina did not regard the littletoil-worn servant from Falla whom she had married as in any senseher superior. 

Before sitting down, Jan slipped off his jacket. He must haverolled up his shirt sleeve while standing in the dark, at the backof the room, for his left arm was bared. 

He wanted so much to be vaccinated, he said. He had never beenvaccinated but once, and there was nothing in the world he fearedso much as the smallpox. 

The instant the little girl saw his bare arm she became quiet, andlooked at her father with wide, comprehending eyes. She followedclosely every movement of the sexton, as he put in the three shortred strokes on the arm. Glancing from one to the other, she noticedthat her father was not faring so very badly. 

When the sexton had finished with Jan, the latter turned to him, and said:

"The li'l' lassie is so still now that maybe you can try it. "

The sexton tried, and this time everything went well. The littlegirl was as quiet as a mouse the whole time--the same knowing lookin her eyes. The sexton also kept silence until he had finished;then he said to the father:

"If you did that only to calm the child, we could just as wellhave made believe--"

"No, Sexton, " said Jan, "then you would not have succeeded. Younever saw the like of that child! So don't imagine you can get herto believe in something that isn't what it passes for. "

THE BIRTHDAY

On the little girl's first birthday her father was out digging inthe field at Falla; he tried to recall to mind how it had been inthe old days, when he had no one to think about while at work inthe held; when he did not have the beating heart in him, and whenhe had no longings and was never anxious. 

"To think that a man can be like that!" he mused in contempt of hisold self. "If I were as rich as Eric of Falla or as strong asBörje, who digs here beside me, it would be as nothing to having athrobbing heart in your breast. That's the only thing that counts. "

Glancing over at his comrade, a powerfully built fellow who coulddo again as much work as himself, he noticed that to-day the manhad not gone ahead as rapidly as usual with the digging. 

They worked by the job. Börje always took upon himself more workthan did Jan, yet they always finished at about the same time. Thatday, however, it went slowly for Börje; he did not even keep upwith Jan, but was left far behind. 

But then Jan had been working for all he was worth, that he mightthe sooner get back to his little girl. That day he had longed forher more than usual. She was always drowsy evenings; so unless hehurried home early, he was likely to find her asleep for the nightwhen he got home. 

When Jan had completed his work he saw that Börje was not even halfthrough. Such a thing had never happened before in all the yearsthey had worked together, and Jan was so astonished he went over tohim. 

Börje was standing deep down in the ditch, trying to loosen a clumpof sod. He had stepped on a piece of glass, and received an uglygash on the bottom of his foot, so that he could hardly step on it. Imagine the torture of having to stand and push the spade into thesoil with an injured foot!

"Aren't you going to quit soon?" asked Jan. 

"I'm obliged to finish this job to-day, " replied the comrade. "Ican't get any grain from Eric of Falia till the work is done, andwe're all out of rye-meal. "

"Then go'-night for to-day, " said Jan. 

Börje did not respond. He was too tired and done up to give eventhe customary good-night salutation. 

Jan of Ruffluck walked to the edge of the field; but there hehalted. 

"What does it matter to the little girl whether or not you comehome for her birthday?" he thought. "She's just as well off withoutyou. But Börje has seven kiddies at home, and no food for them. Shall you let them starve so that you can go home and play withGlory Goldie?"

Then he wheeled round, walked back to Börje, and got down into theditch to help him. Jan was rather tired after his day's toil andcould not work very fast. It was almost dark when they got through. 

"Glory Goldie must be asleep this long while, " thought Jan, when hefinally put in the spade for the last bit of earth. 

"Go'-night for to-day, " he called back to Börje for the secondtime. 

"Go'-night, " returned Börje, "and thanks to you for the help. Now Imust hurry along and get my rye. Another time I'll give you a lift, be sure of that!"

"I don't want any pay . .. Go'-night!"

"Don't you want anything for helping me?" asked Börje. "What's comeover you, that you're so stuck-up all at once?"

"Well, you see, it's--it's the lassie's birthday to-day. "

"And for that I got help with my digging?"

"Yes, for that and for something else, too! Well--good bye to you!"

Jan hurried away so as not to be tempted to explain what that_something else_ was. It had been on the tip of his tongue to say:"To-day is not only Glory Goldie's birthday, but it's also thebirthday of my heart. "

It was as well, perhaps, that he did not say it, for Börje wouldsurely have thought Jan had gone out of his mind. 

CHRISTMAS MORN

Christmas morning Jan took the little girl along with him tochurch; she was then just one year and four months old. 

Katrina thought the girl rather young to attend church and fearedshe would set up a howl, as she had dime at the vaccination bee;but inasmuch as it was the custom to take the little ones along toChristmas Matins, Jan had his own way. 

So at five o'clock on Christmas Morn they all set out. It was pitchdark and cloudy, but not cold; in fact the air was almost balmy, and quite still, as it usually is toward the end of December. 

Before coming to an open highway, they had to walk along a narrowwinding path, through fields and groves in the Ashdales, then takethe steep winter-road across Snipa Ridge. 

The big farmhouse at Falla, with lighted candles at every window, stood out as a beacon to the Ruffluck folk, so that they were ableto find their way to Börje's hut; there they met some of theirneighbours, bearing torches they had prepared on Christmas Eve. Each torch-bearer led a small group of people most of whom followedin silence; but all were happy; they felt that they, too, like theWise Men of old, were following a star, in quest of the new-bornKing. 

When they came to the forest heights they had to pass by a hugestone which had been hurled at Svartsjö Church, by a giant down inFrykerud, but which, luckily, had gone over the steeple and droppedhere on Snipa Ridge. When the church-goers came along, the stonelay, as usual, on the ground. But they knew, they did, that in thenight it had been raised upon twelve golden pillars and that the_trolls_ had danced and feasted under it. 

It was not so very pleasant to have to walk past a stone like that!Jan looked over at Katrina to see whether she was holding thelittle girl securely. Katrina, calm and unconcerned, walked along, chatting with one of their neighbours. She was quite oblivious, apparently, to the terrors of the place. 

The spruce trees up there were old and gnarled, and their brancheswere dotted with clumps of snow. As seen in the glow of the torchlight, one could not but think that some of the trees were reallytrolls, with gleaming eyes beneath snow hats, and long sharp clawsprotruding from thick snow mittens. 

It was all very well so long as they held themselves still. Butwhat if one of them should suddenly stretch forth a hand and seizesomebody? There was no special danger for grown-ups and old people;but Jan had always heard that the trolls had a great fondness forsmall children--the smaller the better. It seemed to him thatKatrina was holding the little girl very carelessly. It would be notrick at all for the huge clawlike troll hands to snatch the childfrom her. Of course he could not take the baby out of her arms in adangerous spot like this, for that might cause the trolls to act. 

Murmurs and whispers now passed from tree-troll to tree-troll; thebranches creaked as if they were about to bestir themselves. 

Jan did not dare ask the others if they saw or heard what he did. Aquestion of that sort might be the very thing to rouse the trolls. In this agony of suspense he knew of but one thing to do: he struckup a psalm-tune. He had a poor singing-voice and had never beforesung so any one could hear him. He was so weak at carrying a tunethat he was afraid to sing out even in church; but now he had tosing, no matter how it went. He observed that the neighbours were alittle surprised. Those who walked ahead of him nudged each otherand looked round; but that did not stop him; he had to continue. 

Immediately one of the womenfolk whispered to him: "Wait a bit, Jan, and I'll help you. "

She took up the Christmas carol in the correct melody and thecorrect key. It sounded beautiful, this singing in the night amongthe trees, and soon everybody joined in. 

"Hail Blessed Morn, by prophets' holy words foretold, " rang out onthe air. A murmur of anguish came from the tree-trolls; they bowedtheir heads so that their wicked eyes were no longer visible, anddrew in their claws under spruce needles and snow. When the lastmeasure of the first stanza died away, no one could have told thatthere was anything besides ordinary old spruce trees on the forestheights. 

The torches that had lighted the Ashdales folk through the woodswere burned out when they came to the highroad; but here they wenton, guided by the lights from peasant huts. When one house was outof sight, they glimpsed another in the distance, and every housealong the road had candles burning at all the windows, to guide thepoor wanderers on their way to church. 

At last they came to a hillock, from which the church could beseen. There stood the House of God, like acme gigantic lantern, light streaming out through all Its windows. When the foot-farerssaw this, they held their breath. After all the little, low-windowed huts they had passed along the way, the church lookedmarvellously big and marvellously bright. 

At sight of the sacred edifice Jan fell to thinking about some poorfolk in Palestine, who had wandered In the night from Bethlehem toJerusalem with a child, their only comfort and joy, who was to becircumcised in the Temple of the Holy City. These parents had togrope their way in the darkness of night, for there were many whosought the life of their child. 

The people from the Ashdales had left home at an surly hour, so asto reach the church ahead of those who drove thither. But when theywere quite near the church grounds, sleighs, with foaming horsesand jingling bells, went flying past, forcing the poor foot-farersto fake to the snow banks, at the edge of the road. 

Jan now carried the child. He was continually dodging vehicles, forthe tramp along the road had become very difficult. But before themlay the shining temple; if they could only get to it they would besheltered, and safe from harm. 

Suddenly, from behind, there came a deafening noise of clangingbells and clamping hoofs. A huge sledge, drawn by two horses, wascoming. On the front seat sat a young gentleman, in a fur coat anda high fur cap, and his young wife. The gentleman was driving;behind him stood his coachman, holding a burning torch so high thatthe draft blew the flame backward, leaving in its wake a long trailof smoke and flying sparks. 

Jan, with the child in his arms, stood at the edge of the snowbank. All at once his foot sank deep in the snow, and he came nearfalling. Quickly the gentleman in the sledge drew rein and shoutedto the peasant, whom he had forced from the road:

"Hand over the child and it shall ride to the church with us. It'srisky carrying a little baby when there are so many teams out. "

"Much obliged to you, " said Jan Anderson, "but I can get along allright. "

"We'll put the little girl between us, Jan, " said the young wife. 

"Thanks, " he returned, "but you needn't trouble yourselves!"

"So you're afraid to trust us with the child?" laughed the man inthe sledge, and drove on. 

The foot-farers trudged along under ever-increasing difficulties. Sledge followed sledge. Every horse in the parish was in harnessthat Christmas morning. 

"You might have let him take the girl, " said Katrina. "I'm afraidyou'll fall with her!"

"What, I let _him_ have my child? What are you thinking of, woman!Didn't you see who he was?"

"What harm would there have been in letting her ride with thesuperintendent of the ironworks?"

Jan Anderson of Ruffluck stood stockstill. "Was that thesuperintendent at Doveness?" he said, looking as though he hadjust come out of a dream. 

"Why of course! Who did you suppose it was?"

Yes, where had Jan's thoughts been? What child had he beencarrying? Where had he intended going? In what land had hewandered? He stood stroking his forehead, and looked ratherbewildered when he answered Katrina. 

"I thought it was Herod, King of Judea, and his wife, Herodias, "he said. 

GLORY GOLDIE'S ILLNESS

When the little girl of Ruffluck was three years old she had anillness which must have been the scarlet fever, for her littlebody was red all over and burning hot to the touch. She would noteat, nor could she sleep; she just lay tossing in delirium. Jancould not think of going away from home so long as she was sick. Hestayed in the hut day after day, and it looked as though Eric ofFalla's rye would go unthreshed that year. 

It was Katrina who nursed the little girl, who spread the quiltover her every time she cast it off, and who fed her a littlediluted blueberry cordial, which the housewife at Falla had sentthem. When the little maid was well Jan always looked after her;but as soon as she became ill he was afraid to touch her, lest hemight not handle her carefully enough and would only hurt her. Henever stirred from the house, but sat in a corner by the hearth allday, his eyes fixed on the sick child. 

The little one lay in her own crib with only a couple of strawpillows under her, and no sheets. It must have been hard on thedelicate little body, made sensitive by rash and inflammation, tolie upon the coarse tow-cloth pillow-casings. 

Strange to say, every time the child began to toss on the bed Janwould think of the finest thing he had to his name--his Sundayshirt. 

He possessed only one good shirt, which was of smooth white linen, with a starched front It was so well made that it would have beenquite good enough for the superintendent at Doveness. And Jan wasvery proud of that shirt. The rest of his wearing apparel, whichwas in constant use, was as coarse as were the pillow-casings thelittle girl lay on. 

But maybe it was only stupid in him to be thinking of that shirt?Katrina would never in the world let him ruin it, for she had givenit to him as a wedding present. 

Anyhow, Katrina was doing all she could. She borrowed a horse fromEric of Falla, wrapped the little one in shawls and quilts and rodeto the doctor's with her. That was courageous of Katrina--thoughJan could not see that it did any good. Certainly no help came outof the big medicine bottle she brought back with her from theapothecary's, nor from any of the doctor's other prescriptions. 

Perhaps he would not be allowed to keep so rare a jewel as thelittle girl, unless he was ready to sacrifice for her the best thathe had, mused he. But it would not be easy to make a person ofKatrina's sort understand this. 

Old Finne-Karin came into the hut one day while the girl lay sick. She knew how to cure sickness in animals, as do all persons of herrace, and she was not so bad, either, at conjuring away styes andboils and ringworms; but for other ailments one would scarcelythink of consulting her. It was hardly the thing to expect helpfrom a witch doctor for anything but trifling complaints. 

The moment the old woman stepped into the room she noticed that thechild was ill. Katrina informed her that it had the scarlet fever, but nobody sought her advice. That the parents were anxious andtroubled she must have seen, of course, for as soon as Katrina hadtreated her to coffee and Jan had given her a piece of plug-tobacco, she said, entirely of her own accord:

"This sickness is beyond my healing powers; but as much I'm able totell you; you can find out whether it's life or death. Keep awaketill midnight, then, on the stroke of twelve, place the tip of theforefinger of your left hand against the tip of the little finger, eyelet-like, and look through at the young one. Notice carefullywho lies beside her in the bed, and you'll know what to expect. "

Katrina thanked her kindly, knowing it was best to keep on the goodside of such folk; but she had no notion of doing as she had beentold. 

Jan attached no importance to the advice, either. He thought ofnothing but the shirt. But how would he ever be able to mustercourage enough to ask Katrina if he might tear up his weddingshirt? That the little girl would not get any better on thataccount he understood, to be sure, and if she must die anyhow, hewould just be throwing it away. 

Katrina went to bed that evening at her usual hour, but Jan felttoo troubled to sleep. Seated in his corner, he could see how GloryGoldie was suffering. That which she had under her was too roughand coarse. He sat thinking how nice it would be if he could onlymake up a bed for the little girl that would feel cool and soft andsmooth. 

His shirt, freshly laundered and unused, lay in the bureau drawer. It hurt him to think of its being there; at the same time he feltit would hardly be fair to Katrina to use her gift as a sheet forthe child. 

However, as it drew on toward midnight and Katrina was sleepingsoundly, he went over to the bureau and took out the shirt. Firsthe tore away the stiff front, then he slit the shirt into twoparts, whereupon he slipped one piece under the little girl's body, and spread the other one between the child and the heavy quilt thatcovered her. 

That done, he stole back to his corner and again took up his vigil. He had not sat there long when the clock struck twelve. Almostwithout thinking of what he was doing he put the two fingers of hisleft hand up to his eye, ring fashion, and peeped through at thebed. 

And lo, at the edge of the bed sat a little angel of God! It wasall scratched, and bleeding, from contact with the coarse bedding, and was about to go away, when it turned and felt of the fineshirt, running its tiny hands over the smooth white linen. Then, ina twinkling, it swung its legs inside the edge of the bed and laydown again, to watch over the child. At the same time up one of thebedposts crawled something black and hideous, which on seeing thatthe angel of God seemed about to depart, stuck its head over thebedside and grinned with glee, thinking it could creep inside andlie down in the angel's place. 

But when it saw that the angel of God still guarded the child, itbegan to writhe as if suffering the torments of hell, and shrankback toward the floor. 

The next day the little girl was on the road to recovery. Katrinawas so glad the fever was broken that she had not the heart to sayanything about the spoiled wedding shirt, though she probablythought to herself that she had a fool of a husband. 

CALLING ON RELATIVES

0ne Sunday afternoon Jan and Glory Goldie set out together in thedirection of the big forest; the little girl was then in her fifthyear. 

Silent and serious, father and little daughter walked hand in hand, as if bent upon a very solemn mission. They went past the shadedbirch grove, their favourite haunt, past the wild strawberry hilland the winding brook, without stopping; then, disappearing in aneasterly direction, they went into the densest part of the forest;nor did they stop there. Wherever could they be going? By and bythey came out on a wooded hill above Loby. From there they wentdown to the scale-pan, where country-road and town-road cross. Theydid not go to Nästa or to Nysta, and never even glanced toward DärFram and På Valln, but went farther and farther into the village. No one could have told just where they were bound for. Surely theycould not be thinking of calling upon the Hindricksons, here inLoby?

To be sure Björn Hindrickson's wife was a half-sister of Jan'smother, so that Jan was actually related to the richest people inthe parish, and he had a right to call Hindrickson and his wifeuncle and aunt. But heretofore he had never claimed kinship withthese people. Even to Katrina he had barely mentioned the fact thathe had such high connections. Jan would always step out of the waywhen he saw Björn Hindrickson coming, and not even at church did hego up and shake hands with him. 

But now that Jan had such a remarkable little daughter he wassomething more than just a poor labourer. He had a jewel to showand a flower with which to adorn himself. Therefore he was as richas the richest, as great as the greatest, and now he was goingstraight to the big house of Björn Hindrickson to pay his respectsto his fine relatives, for the first time in his life. 

The visit at the big house was not a long one. In less than an hourafter their arrival, Jan and the little girl were crossing thehouse-yard toward the gate. But at the gate Jan stopped and glancedback, as if half-minded to go in again. 

He certainly had no reason to regret his call. Both he and thechild had been well received. Björn Hindrickson's wife had takenthe little girl over to the blue cupboard, and given her a cookieand a lump of sugar, and Björn Hindrickson himself had asked hername and her age; whereupon he had opened his big leather purse andpresented her with a bright new sixpence. 

Jan had been served with coffee, and his aunt had asked afterKatrina and had wondered whether they kept a cow or a pig, and iftheir hut was cold in winter and if the wages Jan received fromEric of Falla were sufficient for their needs. 

No, there was nothing about the visit itself that troubled Jan. When he had chatted a while with the Hindricksons they had excusedthemselves--which was quite proper--saying they were invited to atea that afternoon and would be leaving in half an hour. Jan hadrisen at once and said good-bye, knowing they must allow themselvestime to dress. Then his aunt had gone into the pantry and hadbrought out butter and bacon, had filled a little bag with barley, and another with flour, and had tied them all into a single parcel, which she had put into Jan's hand at parting. It was just a littlesomething for Katrina, she had said. She should have somerecompense for staying at home to look after the house. 

It was this parcel Jan stood there pondering over. He knew that inthe bundle were all sorts of good things to eat, the very thingsthey longed for at every meal at Ruffluck, still he felt it wouldbe unfair to the little girl to keep it. 

He had not come to the Hindricksons as a beggar, but simply to seehis kinsfolk. He did not wish them to entertain any false notionsas to that. This thought had come to him instantly the parcel washanded to him, but his regard for the Hindricksons was so greatthat he would not have dared refuse it. 

Now, turning back from the gate, he walked over to the barn and putthe parcel down near the door, where the housefolk constantlypassed and would be sure to see it. 

He was sorry to have to leave it. But his little girl was nobeggar! Nobody must think that she and her father went about askingalms. 

THE SCHOOL EXAMINATION

When the little girl was six years old Jan went along with her tothe Östanby school one day, to listen to the examinations. 

This being the first and only schoolhouse the parish boasted, naturally every one was glad that at last a long-felt want hadbeen met. In the old days Sexton Blackie had no choice but to goabout from farmhouse to farmhouse with his pupils. 

Up until the year 1860, when the Östanby school was built, thesexton had been compelled to change classrooms every other week, and many a time he and his little pupils had sat in a room wherethe housewife prepared meals and the man of the house worked at acarpenter's bench; where the old folk lay abed all day and thechickens were cooped under the sofa. 

But just the same it had gone rather well with the teaching; forSexton Blackie was a man who could command respect in all weathers. Still it must have been a relief to him to be allowed to work in aroom that was to be used only for school purposes; where the wallswere not lined with cubby-beds and shelves filled with pots andpans and tools; where there was no obstructing loom in front of thewindow to shut out the daylight, and where women neighbours couldnot drop in for a friendly chat over the coffee cups during schoolhours. 

Here the walls were hung with illustrations of Bible stories, withanimal pictures and portraits of Swedish kings. Here the childrenhad little desks with low benches, and did not have to sit perchedup round a high table, where their noses were hardly on a levelwith the edge. And here Sexton Blackie had a desk all to himself, with spacious drawers and compartments for his record-books andpapers. Now he looked rather more impressive during school hoursthan in former days, when he had often heard lessons while seatedupon the edge of a hearth, with a roaring fire at his back and thechildren huddled on the floor in front of him. Here he had a fixedplace for the blackboard and hooks for maps and charts, so that hedid not have to stand them up against doors and sofa backs. Heknew, too, where he had his goose quills and could teach thechildren how to make strokes and curves, so that each one of themwould some day be as fine a penman as himself. It was even possibleto train the children to rise in a body and march out in line, likesoldiers. Indeed, no end of improvements could be introduced nowthat the schoolhouse was finished. 

Glad as was every one of the new school, the parents did not feelaltogether at ease in the presence of their children, after theyhad begun to go there. It was as if the youngsters had come intosomething new and fine from which their elders were excluded. Ofcourse it was wrong of the parents to think this, when they shouldhave been pleased that the children were granted so many advantageswhich they themselves had been denied. 

The day Jan of Ruffluck visited the school, he and his little GloryGoldie walked hand in hand, as usual, all the way, like goodfriends and comrades; but as soon as they came in sight of theschoolhouse and Glory Goldie saw the children assembled outside, she dropped her father's hand and crossed to the other side of theroad. Then, in a moment, she ran off and joined a group of children. 

During the examination Jan sat near the teacher's lectern, up amongthe School Commissioners and other fine folk. He had to sit there;otherwise he could not have seen anything of Glory Goldie but theback of her neck, as she sat in the front row, to the right of thelectern, where the smaller children were placed. In the old daysJan would never have gone so far forward; but one who was father toa little girl like Glory Goldie did not have to regard himself asthe inferior of anybody. Glory Goldie could not have helped seeingher father from where she sat, yet she never gave him a glance. Itwas as if he did not exist for her. On the other hand, GloryGoldie's gaze was fixed upon her teacher, who was then examiningthe older pupils, on the left side of the room. They read frombooks, pointed out different countries and cities on the map, anddid sums on the blackboard, and the teacher had no time to look atthe little tots on the right. So it would not have mattered verymuch if Glory Goldie had sent her father an occasional side-glance;but she never so much as turned her head toward him. 

However, it was some little comfort to him that all the otherchildren did likewise. They, too, sat the whole time with theirclear blue eyes fastened on their teacher. The little imps madebelieve they understood him when he said something witty or clever;for then they would nudge each other and giggle. 

No doubt it was a surprise to the parents to see how well thechildren conducted themselves throughout the examination. ButSexton Blackie was a remarkable man. He could make them do almostanything. 

As for Jan of Ruffluck, he was beginning to feel embarrassed andtroubled. He no longer knew whether it was his own little girl whosat there or somebody else's. Of a sudden he left his place amongthe School Commissioners and moved nearer the door. 

At last the teacher was done examining the older pupils. Now camethe turn of the little ones, those who had barely learnt theirletters. They had not acquired any vast store of learning, to besure, but a few questions had to be put to them, also. Besides, they were to give some account of the Story of the Creation. 

First they were asked to tell who it was that created the world. That they knew of course. And then, unhappily, the teacher askedthem if they knew of any other name for God. 

Now all the little A-B-C-ers were stumped! Their cheeks grew hotand the skin on their foreheads was drawn into puckers, but theycould not for the life of them think out the answer to such aprofound question. 

Among the larger children, over on the right, there was a generalwaving of hands, and whispering and tittering; but the eight smallbeginners held their mouths shut tight and not a sound came fromthem. Glory Goldie was as mum as the rest. 

"There is a prayer which we repeat every day, " said the teacher. "What do we call God there?"

Now Glory Goldie had it! She knew the teacher wanted them to saythey called God _Father_--and raised her hand. 

"What do we call God, Glory Goldie?" he asked. 

Glory Goldie jumped to her feet, her cheeks aflame, her littleyellow pigtail of a braid pointing straight out from her neck. 

"We call him Jan, " she answered in a high, penetrating voice. 

Immediately a laugh went up from all parts of the room. The gentry, the School Board, parents and children all chuckled. Even theschoolmaster appeared to be amused. 

Glory Goldie went red as a beet and her eyes filled up. The teacherrapped on the floor with the end of his pointer and shouted"Silence!" Whereupon he said a few words to explain the matter. 

"It was _Father_ Glory Goldie wanted to say, of course, but saidJan instead because her own father's name is Jan. We can't wonderat the little girl, for I hardly know of another child in theschool who has so kind a father as she has. I have seen him standoutside the schoolhouse in rain and bluster, waiting for her, andI've seen him come carrying her to school through blizzards, whenthe snow was knee-deep in the road. So who can wonder at her sayingJan when she must name the best she knows!"

The teacher patted the little girl on the head. The people allsmiled, but at the same time they were touched. 

Glory Goldie sat looking down, not knowing what she should do withherself; but Jan of Ruffluck felt as happy as a king, for it hadsuddenly become clear to him that the little girl had been his thewhole time. 

THE CONTEST

It was strange about the little girl of Ruffluck and her father!They seemed to be so entirely of one mind that they could read eachother's thoughts. 

In Svartsjö lived another schoolmaster, who was an old soldier. Hetaught in an out-of-the-way corner of the parish and had no regularschoolhouse, as had the sexton; but he was greatly beloved by allchildren. The youngsters themselves hardly knew they went to schoolto him, but thought they came together just to play. 

The two schoolmasters were the best of friends. But sometimes theyounger teacher would try to persuade the older one to keep abreastof the times, and wanted him to go in for phonetics and otherinnovations. The old soldier generally regarded such things withmild tolerance. Once, however, he lost his temper. 

"Just because you've got a schoolhouse you think you know it all, Blackie!" he let fly. "But I'll have you understand that mychildren know quite as much us yours, even if they do have onlyfarmhouses to sit in. "

"Yes, I know, " returned the sexton, "and have never said anythingto the contrary. I simply mean that if the children could learn athing with less effort--"

"Well, what then?" bristled the old soldier. 

The sexton knew from the old man's tone that he had offended him, and tried to smooth over the breach. 

"Anyhow you make it so easy for your pupils that they nevercomplain about their lessons. "

"Maybe I make it too easy for them?" snapped the old man. "Maybe Idon't teach them anything?" he shouted, striking the table with hishand. 

"What on earth has come over you, Tyberg?" said the sexton. "Youseem to resent everything I say. "

"Well, you always come at me with so many allusions!"

Just then other people happened in, and soon all was smooth betweenthe schoolmasters; when they parted company they were as goodfriends as ever. But when old man Tyberg was on his way home, thesexton's remarks kept cropping up in his mind, and now he was evenangrier than before. 

"Why should that strippling say I could teach the children more ifI kept abreast of the times?" he muttered to himself. "He probablythinks I'm too old, though he doesn't say it in plain words. "Tyberg could not get over his exasperation, and as soon as hereached home he told it all to his wife. 

"Why should you mind the sexton's chatter?" said the wife. "'Youthis elastic, but age is solid, ' as the saying goes. You're excellentteachers both of you. "

"Little good your saying it!" he grunted. "Others will think whatthey like just the same. "

The old man went about for days looking so glum that he quitedistressed his wife. 

"Can't you show them they are in the wrong?" she finally suggested. 

"How show them? What do you mean?"

"I mean that if you know your pupils to be just as clever as thesexton's--"

"Of course they are!" he struck in. 

"--then you must see that your pupils and his get together for atest examination. "

The old man pretended not to be interested in her proposition, butall the same it caught his fancy. And some days later the sextonreceived a letter from him wherein he proposed that the children ofboth schools be allowed to test their respective merits. 

The sexton was not averse to this, of course, only he wanted tohave the contest held some time during the Christmas holidays, sothat it could be made a festive occasion for the children. 

"That was a happy conceit, " thought he. "Now I shan't have toreview any lessons this term. "

Nor was it necessary. It was positively amazing the amount ofreading and studying that went on just then in the two schools!

The contest was held the evening of the day after Christmas. Theschoolroom had been decorated for the occasion with spruce trees, on which shone all the church candles left over from the ChristmasMatins, and there were apples enough to give every child twoapiece. It was whispered about that the parents and guardians whohad come to listen to the children would be served with coffee andcakes. The chief attraction, however, was the big contest. 

On one side of the room sat the soldier's pupils, on the other thesexton's. And now it was for the children to defend their teachers'reputations. Schoolmaster Tyberg had to examine the sexton'spupils, and the sexton the Tyberg pupils. Any questions that couldnot he answered by the one school were to be taken up by the other. Each question had to be duly recorded so that the judges would beable to decide which school was the better. 

The sexton opened the contest. He proceeded rather cautiously atfirst, but when he found that he had a lot of clever children todeal with he went at them harder and harder. The Tyberg pupils wereso well grounded they did not let a single quizz get by them. 

Then came old man Tyberg's turn at questioning the sexton's pupils. 

The soldier was no longer angry with the sexton. Now that hischildren had shown that they knew their bits, the demon of mischiefflew into him. At the start he put a few straight questions to thesexton's pupils, but being unable to remain serious for long at atime he soon became as waggish as he usually was at his own school. 

"Of course I know that you have read a deal more than have we whocome from the backwoods, " said he. "You have studied naturalscience and much else, still I wonder if any of you can tell mewhat the stones in Motala Stream are?"

Not one of the sexton's pupils raised a hand, but on the otherside hand after hand shot up. 

Yet, in the sexton's division sat Olof Oleson--he who knew he hadthe best head in the parish, and Där Nol, of good old peasantstock. But they could not answer. There was Karin Svens, thesprightly lass of a soldier's daughter, who had not missed a day atschool. She, with the others, wondered why the sexton had not toldthem what there was remarkable about the stones in Motala Stream. 

Schoolmaster Tyberg stood looking very grave while SchoolmasterBlackie sat gazing at the floor, much perturbed. 

"I don't see but that we'll have to let this question go to theopposition, " said the soldier-teacher. "Fancy, so many bright boysand girls not being able to answer an easy question like that!"

At the last moment Glory Goldie turned and looked back at herfather, as was her habit when not knowing what else to do. 

Jan was too far away to whisper the answer to her; but the instantthe child caught her father's eye she knew what she must say. Then, in her eagerness, she not only raised her hand, but stood up. 

Her schoolmates ell turned to her, expectantly, and the sextonlooked pleased because the question would not be taken away fromhis children. 

"They are wet!" shouted Glory Goldie without waiting for thequestion to be put to her, for the time was up. 

The next second the little girl feared she had said something verystupid and spoiled the thing for them all. She sank down on thebench and hid her face under the desk, so that no one should seeher. 

"Well answered, my girl!" said the soldier-teacher. "It's lucky foryou sexton pupils there was one among you could reply; for, withall your cock-sureness, you were about to lose the game. "

And such peals of laughter as went up from the children of bothschools and from the grown folk as well, the two schoolmasters hadnever heard. Some of the youngsters had to stand up to have theirlaugh out, while others doubled in their seats, and shrieked. Thatput an end to all order. 

"Now I think we'd better remove the benches and take a swing roundthe Christmas trees, " said old man Tyberg. 

And never before had they had such fun in the schoolhouse, andnever since, either. 

FISHING

It would hardly have been possible for any one to be as fond of thelittle girl as her father was; but it may be truly said that shehad a very good friend in old seine-maker Ola. 

This is the way they came to be friends: Glory Goldie had taken tosetting out fishing-poles in the brook for the small salmon-troutthat abounded there. She had better luck with her fishing than anyone would have expected, and the very first day she brought home acouple of spindly fishes. 

She was elated over her success, as can be imagined, and receivedpraise from her mother for being able to provide food for thefamily, when she was only a little girl of eight. To encourage thechild, Katrina let her cleanse and fry the fish. Jan ate of it anddeclared he had never tasted the like of that fish, which was theplain truth. For the fish was so bony and dry and burnt that thelittle girl herself could scarcely swallow a morsel of it. 

But for all that the little girl was just as enthusiastic over herfishing. She got up every morning at the ionic time that Jan didand hurried off to the brook, a basket on her arm, and carrying ina little tin box the worms to bait her hooks. Thus equipped, shewent off to the brook, which came gushing down the rocky steep innumerous falls and rapids, between which were short stretches ofdark still water and places where the stream ran, clear andtransparent, over a bed of sand and smooth stones. 

Think of it! After the first week she had no luck with the fishing. The worms were gone from all the hooks, but no fish had fastenedthere. She shifted her tackle from rapid to still water, from stillwater to rippling falls, and she changed her hooks--but with nobetter results. 

She asked the boys at Börje's and at Eric's if they were not theones who got up with the lark and carried off her fish. But aquestion like that the boys would not deign to answer. For no boywould stoop to take fish from the brook, when he had the whole ofDove Lake to fish in. It was all right for little girls, who werenot allowed to go down to the lake, to run about hunting fish inthe woods, they said. 

Despite the superior airs of the boys, the little girl onlyhalf-believed them. "Surely someone must take the fish off myhooks!" she said to herself. Hers were real hooks, too, and notjust bent pins. And in order to satisfy herself she arose onemorning before Jan or Katrina were awake, and ran over to thebrook. When near to the stream she slackened her pace, taking veryshort cautious steps so as not to slip on the stones or to rustlethe bushes. Then, all at once her, whole body became numb. For atthe edge of the brook, on the very spot where she had set out herpoles the morning before, stood a fish thief tampering with herlines. It was not one of the boys, as she had supposed, but a grownman, who was just then bending over the water, drawing up a fish. 

Little Glory Goldie was never afraid. She rushed right up to thethief and caught him in the act. 

"So you're the one who comes here and takes my fish!" she said. "It's a good thing I've run across you at last so we can put a stopto this stealing. "

The man then raised his head, and now Glory Goldie saw his face. Itwas the old seine-maker, who was one of their neighbours. 

"Yes, I know this is your tackle, " the man admitted, withoutgetting angry or excited, as most folks do when taken to task forwrongdoing. 

"But how can you take what isn't yours?" asked the puzzledyoungster. 

The man looked straight at her; she never forgot that look; sheseemed to be peering into two open and empty caverns at the back ofwhich were a pair of half-dead eyes, beyond reflecting either joyor grief. 

"Well, you see, I'm aware that you get what you require from yourparents and that you fish only for the fun of it, while at my homewe are starving. "

The little girl flushed. Now she felt ashamed. 

The seine-maker said nothing further, but picked up his cap (it haddropped from his head while he was bending over the fishing-poles)and went his way. Nor did Glory Goldie speak. A couple of fish layfloundering on the ground, but she did not take them up; when shehad stood a while looking at them, she kicked them back into thewater. 

All that day the little girl felt displeased with herself, withoutknowing why. For indeed it was not she who had done wrong. Shecould not get the seine-maker out of her thoughts. The old man wassaid to have been rich at one time; he had once owned seven bigfarmsteads, each in itself worth as much as Eric of Falla's farm. But in some unaccountable way he had disposed of his property andwas now quite penniless. 

However, the next morning Glory Goldie went over to the brook thesame as usual. This time no one had touched her hooks, for nowthere was a fish at the end of every line. She released the fishesfrom the hooks and laid them in her basket; but instead of goinghome with her catch she went straight to the seine-maker's cabin. 

When the little girl came along with her basket the old man was outin the yard, cutting wood. She stood at the stile a moment, watching him, before stepping over. He looked pitifully poor andragged. Even her father had never appeared so shabby. 

The little girl had heard that some well-do-to people had offeredthe seine-maker a home for life, but in preference he had gone tolive with his daughter-in-law, who made her home here in theAshdales, so as to help her in any way that he could; she had manychildren, and her husband, who had deserted her, was now supposedto be dead. 

"To-day there was fish on the hooks!" shouted the little girl fromthe stile. 

"You don't tell me!" said the seine-maker. "But that was well. "

"I'll gladly give you all the fish I catch, " she told him, "if I'monly allowed to do the fishing myself. " So saying, she went up tothe seine-maker and emptied the contents of her basket on theground, expecting of course that he would be pleased and wouldpraise her, just as her father--who was always pleased witheverything she said or did--had always done. But the seine makertook this attention with his usual calm indifference. 

"You keep what's yours, " he said. "We're so used to going hungryhere that we can get on without your few little fishes. "

There was something out of the common about this poor old man andGlory Goldie was anxious to win his approval. 

"You may take the fish of and stick the worms on the hooks, if youlike, " said she, "and you can have all the tackle and everything. "

"Thanks, " returned the old man. "But I'll not deprive you of yourpleasure. "

Glory Goldie was determined not to go until she had thought out away of satisfying him. 

"Would you like me to come and call for you every morning, " sheasked him, "so that we could draw up the lines together and dividethe catch--you to get half, and I half?"

Then the old man stopped chopping and rested on his axe. He turnedhis strange, half-dead eyes toward the child, and the shadow of asmile crossed his face. 

"Ah, now you put out the right bait!" he said. "That propositionI'll not say no to. "

AGRIPPA

The little girl was certainly a marvel! When she was only ten yearsold she could manage even Agrippa Prästberg, the sight of whom wasenough to scare almost any one out of his wits. 

Agrippa had yellow red-lidded eyes, topped with bushy eyebrows, afrightful nose, and a wiry beard that stood out from his face likeraised bristles. His forehead was covered with deep wrinkles andhis figure was tall and ungainly. He always wore a ragged militarycap. 

One day when the little girl sat all by herself on the flat stonein front of the hut, eating her evening meal of buttered bread, sheespied a tall man coming down the lane whom she soon recognized asAgrippa Prästberg. However, she kept her wits about her, and atonce broke and doubled her slice of bread buttered side in--thenslipped it under her apron. 

She did not attempt to run away or to lock up the house, knowingthat that would be useless with a man of his sort; but kept herseat. All she did was to pick up an unfinished stocking Katrina hadleft lying on the stone when starting out with Jan's supper a whileago, and go to knitting for dear life. 

She sat there as if quite calm and content, but with one eye on thegate. No, indeed, there was not a doubt about it--Agrippa intendedto pay them a visit, for just then he lifted the gate latch. 

The little girl moved farther back on the stone and spread out herskirt. She saw now that she would have to guard the house. 

Glory Goldie knew, to be sure, that Agrippa Prästberg was not thekind of man who would steal, and he never struck any one unlessthey called him Grippie, or offered him buttered bread, nor did hestop long at a place where folk had the good luck not to have aDarlecarlian clock in the house. 

Agrippa went about in the parish "doctoring" clocks, and once heset foot in a house where there was a tall, old-fashioned chimneyclock he could not rest until he had removed the works, to see ifthere was anything wrong with them. And he never failed to findflaws which necessitated his taking the whole clock apart. Thatmeant he would be days putting it together again. Meantime, one hadto house and feed him. 

The worst of it was that if Agrippa once got his hands on a clockit would never run as well as before, and afterward one had to lethim tinker it at least once a year, or it would stop goingaltogether. The old man tried to do honest and conscientious work, but just the name he ruined all the clocks he touched. 

Therefore it was best never to let him fool with one's clock. ThatGlory Goldie knew, of course, but she saw no way of saving theDalecarlian timepiece, which was ticking away inside the hut. 

Agrippa knew of the clock being there and had long watched for anopportunity to get at it, but at other times when he was seenthereabout, Katrina had been at home to keep him at a safe distance. 

When the old man came up he stopped right in front of the littlegirl, struck the ground with his stick, and rattled off:

"Here comes Johan Utter Agrippa Prästberg, drummer-boy to His RoyalHighness and the Crown! I have faced shot and shell and fearneither angels nor devils. Anybody home?"

Glory Goldie did not have to reply, for he strode past her into thehouse and went straight over to the big Dalecarlian clock. 

The girl ran in after him and tried to tell him what a good clockit was, that it ran neither too fast nor too slow and needed nomending. 

"How can a clock run well that has not been regulated by JohanUtter Agrippa Prästberg!" the old man roared. 

He was so tall he could open the clock-case without having to standon a chair. In a twinkling he removed the face and the works andplaced them on the table. Glory Goldie clenched the hand under herapron, and tears came to her eyes; but what could she do to stophim?

Agrippa was in a fever of a hurry to find out what ailed the clock, before Jan or Katrina could get back and tell him it needed norepairing. He had brought with him a small bundle, containingwork-tools and grease jars, which he tore open with such haste thathalf its contents fell to the floor. 

Glory Goldie was told to pick up everything that had dropped. Andany one who has seen Agrippa Prästberg must know she would not havedared do anything but obey him. She got down on all fours andhanded him a tiny saw and a mallet. 

"Anything more!" he bellowed. "Be glad you're allowed to serve HisMajesty's and the Kingdom's drummer-boy, you confounded crofter-brat!"

"No, not that I see, " replied the little girl meekly. Never had shefelt so crushed and unhappy. She was to look after the house forher mother and father, and now this had to happen!

"But the spectacles?" snapped Agrippa. "They must have dropped, too?"

"No, " said the girl, "there are no spectacles here. " Suddenly afaint hope sprang up in her. What if he couldn't do anything to theclock without his glasses? What if they should be lost? And justthen her eye lit tin the spectacle-case, behind a leg of the table. 

The old man rummaged and searched among the cog-wheels and springsin his bundle. "I don't see but I'll have to get down on the floormyself, and hunt, " he said presently. "Get up, crofter-brat!"

Quick as a flash the little girl's hand shot out and closed overthe spectacle-case, which she hid under her apron. 

"Up with you!" thundered Agrippa. "I believe you're lying to me. What are you hiding under your apron? Come! Out with it!"

She promptly drew out one hand. The other hand she had kept underher apron the whole time. Now she had to show that one, too. Thenhe saw the huttered bread. 

"Ugh! It's buttered bread!" Agrippa shrank back as if the girl wereholding out a rattlesnake. 

"I sat eating it when you came, and then I put it out of sight for, I know you don't like butter. "

The old man got down on his hands and knees and began to search, but to no purpose, of course. 

"You must have left them where you were last, " said Glory Goldie. 

He had wondered about that himself, though he thought it unlikely. At all events he could do nothing to the clock without his glasses. He had no choice but to gather up his tools and replace the worksin the clock-case. 

While his back was turned the little girl slipped the spectaclesinto his bundle, where he found them when he got to Lövdala Manor--the last place he had been to before coming to Ruffluck Croft. Onopening the bundle to show they were not there, the first objectthat caught his eye was the spectacle-case. 

Next time he saw Jan and Katrina in the pine grove outside thechurch, he went up to them. 

"That girl of yours, that handy little girl of yours is going to bea comfort to you, " he told them. 

FORBIDDEN FRUIT

There were many who said to Jan of Ruffluck that his little girlwould be a comfort to him when she was grown. Folks did not seem tounderstand that she already made him happy every day and every hourthat God granted them. Only once in the whole time of her growingperiod did Jan have to suffer any annoyance or humiliation on heraccount. 

The summer the little girl was eleven her father took her toLövdala Manor on the seventeenth of August, which was the birthdayof the lord of the manor, Lieutenant Liljecrona. 

The seventeenth of August was always a day of rejoicing that waslooked forward to all the year by every one in Svartsjö and in Bro, not only by the gentry, who participated in all the festivities, but also by the young folk of the peasantry, who came in crowds toLövdala to look at the smartly dressed people and to listen to thesinging and the dance music. 

There was something else, too, that attracted the young people toLövdala on the seventeenth of August, and that was all the fruitthat was to be found in the orchard at that time. To be sure, thechildren had been taught strict honesty in most matters, but whenit came to a question of such things as hang on bushes and trees, out in the open, they felt at liberty to take as much as theywanted, just so they were careful not to be caught at it. 

When Jan came into the orchard with his Glory Goldie he noticed howthe little girl opened her eyes when she saw all the fine appletrees, laden with big round greenings. And Jan would not havedenied her the pleasure of tasting of the fruit had he not seenSuperintendent Söderlind and two other men walking about in theorchard, on the lookout for trespassers. 

He hurried Glory Goldie over to the lawn in front of themanor-house, out of temptation's way. It was plain that herthoughts were still on the apple trees and the gooseberry bushes, for she never even glanced at the prettily dressed children of theupper class or at the beautiful flowers. Jan could not get her tolisten to the fine speeches delivered by the Dean of Bro andEngineer Boraeus of Borg, in honour of the day. Why she would noteven listen to Sexton Blackie's congratulatory poem!

Anders Öster's clarinet could be heard from the house. It wasplaying such lively dance music just then that folks were hardlyable to hold themselves still, but the little girl only tried tofind a pretext for getting back to the orchard. 

Jan kept a firm grip on her hand all the while and no matter whatexcuse she would hit upon to break away, he never relaxed his hold. Everything went smoothly for him until evening, when dusk fell. 

Then coloured lanterns were brought out and set in the flower bedsand hung in the trees and in among the clinging ivy that coveredthe house wall. It was such a pretty sight that Jan, who had neverbefore seen anything of that kind, quite lost his head and hardlyknew whether he was still on earth; but just the same he did notlet go of the little hand. 

When the lanterns had been lighted, Anders Öster and his nephew andthe village shopkeeper and his brother-in-law struck up a song. While they sang the air seemed to vibrate with a strange sort ofrapture that took away all sadness and depression. It came sosoftly and caressingly on the balmy night air that Jan just gave upto it, as did every one else. All were glad to be alive; glad theyhad so beautiful a world to live in. 

"This must be the way folks feel who live in Paradise, " said ayouth, looking very solemn. 

After the singing there were fireworks, and when the rockets wentup into the indigo night-sky and broke into showers of red, blue, and yellow stars, Jan was so carried away that for the moment heforgot about Glory Goldie. When he came back to himself she wasgone. 

"It can't be helped now, " thought Jan. "I only hope all will gowell with her, as usual, and that Superintendent Söderlind or anyof the other watchers won't lay hands on her. "

It would have been futile for Jan to try to find her out in thebig, dark orchard: he knew that the sensible thing for him to dowas to remain where he was, and wait for her. And he did not haveto wait very long! There was one more song; the last strains hadhardly died away when he saw Superintendent Söderlind come up, withGlory Goldie in his arms. 

Lieutenant Liljecrona was standing with a little group of gentlemenat the top of the steps, listening to the singing, whenSuperintendent Söderlind stopped in front of him and set the littlegirl down on the ground. 

Glory Goldie did not scream or try to run away. She had picked herapron full of apples and thought of nothing save to hold it upsecurely, so that none of the apples would roll out. 

"This youngster has been up in an apple tree, " said SuperintendentSöderlind, "and your orders were that if I caught any apple thievesI was to bring them to you. "

Lieutenant Liljecrona glanced down at the little girl, and the finewrinkles round his eyes began to twitch. It was impossible to tellwhether he was going to laugh or cry in a second. He had intendedto administer a sharp reprimand to the one who had stolen hisapples. But now when he saw the little girl tighten her hands roundher apron, he felt sorry for her. Only he was puzzled to know howhe should manage this thing so that she could keep her apples; forif he were to let her off without further ado, it might result inhis having his whole orchard stripped. 

"So you've been up in the apple trees, have you?" said thelieutenant. "You have gone to school and read about Adam and Eve, so you ought to know how dangerous it is to steal apples. "

At that moment Jan came forward and placed himself beside hisdaughter; he felt quite put out with her for having spoiled hispleasure, but of course he had to stand by her. 

"Don't do anything to the little girl, Lieutenant!" he said. "Forit was I who gave her leave to climb the tree for the apples. "

Glory Goldie sent her father a withering glance, and broke hersilence. "That isn't true, " she declared. "I wanted the apples. Father has been standing here the whole evening holding onto myhand so I shouldn't go pick any. "

Now the lieutenant was tickled. "Good for you, my girl!" said he. "You did right in not letting your father shoulder the blame. Isuppose you know that when Our Lord was so angry at Adam and Eve itwasn't because they had stolen an apple, but because they werecowards and tried to shift the blame, the one onto the other. Youmay go now, and you can keep your apples because you were notafraid to tell the truth. "

With that he turned to one of his sons, and said:

"Give Jan a glass of punch. We must drink to him because his girlspoke up for herself better than old Mother Eve. It would have beenwell for us all if Glory Goldie had been in the Garden of Edeninstead of Eve. "

BOOK TWO

LARS GUNNARSON

One cold winter day Eric of Falla and Jan were up in the forestcutting down trees. They had just sawed through the trunk of a bigspruce, and stepped aside so as not to be caught under its brancheswhen it came crashing to the ground. 

"Look out, Boss!" warned Jan. "It's coming your way. "

There was plenty of time for Eric to have escaped while the sprucestill swayed; but he had felled so many trees in his lifetime thathe thought he ought to know more about this than Jan did, and stoodstill. The next moment he lay upon the ground with the tree on topof him. He had not uttered a sound when the tree caught him and nowhe was completely hidden by the thick spruce branches. 

Jan stood looking round not knowing what had become of hisemployer. Presently he heard the old familiar voice he had alwaysobeyed; but it sounded so feeble he could hardly make out what itwas saying. 

"Go get a team and some men to take me home, " said the voice. 

"Shan't I help you from under first?" asked Jan. 

"Do as I tell you!" said Eric of Falla. 

Jan, knowing his employer to be a man who always demanded promptobedience, said nothing further but hurried back to Falla as fastas he could. The farm was some distance away, so that it took timeto get there. 

On arriving, the first person Jan came upon was Lars Gunnarson, thehusband of Eric's eldest daughter and prospective master of Falla, which he was destined to take over upon the decease of the presentowner. 

When Lars Gunnarson had received his instructions he ordered Jan togo straight to the house and tell the mistress of what hadoccurred; then he was to call the hired boy. Meantime Lars himselfwould run down to the barn and harness a horse. 

"Perhaps I needn't be so very particular about telling thewomenfolk just yet?" said Jan. "For if they once start crying andfretting it will only mean delay. Eric's voice sounded so weak fromwhere he lay that I think we'd best hurry along. "

But Lars Gunnarson, since coming to the farm, had made it a pointto assert his authority. He would no more take back an order oncegiven than would his father-in-law. 

"Go into mother at once!" he commanded. "Can't you understand thatshe must get the bed ready so we'll have some place to put him whenwe come back with him?"

Then of course Jan was obliged to go inside and notify themistress. Try as he would to make short work of it, it took time torelate what had happened and how it had happened. 

When Jan returned to the yard he heard Lars thundering and swearingin the stable. Lars was a poor hand with animals. The horses wouldkick if he went anywhere near them and he had not been able to getone of the beasts out of its stall the whole time that Jan had beeninside talking with the housewife. 

It would not have been well for Jan had he offered to help Lars. Knowing this he went immediately on his other errand, and fetchedthe hired boy. He thought it mighty strange that Lars had not toldhim to speak to Börje, who was threshing in the barn close by, instead of sending him after the hired boy, who was at work out inthe birch-grove, a good way from the farmyard. 

And while Jan ran these needless errands, the faint voice under thespruce branches rang in his ears. The voice was not so imperativenow, but it begged and implored him to hasten. "I'm coming, I'mcoming!" Jan whispered back. He had the sensation of one in anightmare who tries to run but who cannot take a step. 

Lars had at last managed to get a horse into the shafts. Then thewomenfolk came and told him to be sure to take along straw andblankets. This was all very well, but it meant still further delay. 

Finally Lars and Jan and the hired boy drove away from the farm. But they had got no farther than to the edge of the forest, whenLars stopped the horse. 

"One gets sort of rattled when one receives news of this kind, "said he. "I never thought of it till just now--but Börje is back atthe barn. "

"It would have been well to have taken him along, " said Jan, "forhe's twice as strong as any of us. "

Then Lars sent the hired boy back to the farm to get Börje; whichmeant a long wait. 

While Jan sat in the sledge, powerless to act, he felt as thoughwithin him opened a big, empty ice-cold void. It was the awfulcertainty that they would be too late!

Then at last came Börje and the boy, all out of breath fromrunning, and now they drove on into the woods. They went veryslowly, though, for Lars had harnessed the old spavined bay to thesledge. What he had said about his being rattled must have beentrue, for all at once he wanted to turn in on the wrong road. 

"If you go in that direction, we'll come to Great Peak, " Jan toldhim; "and we must get to the woods beyond Loby. "

"Yes, I know, " returned Lars, "but farther up there's a crossroadwhere it's better driving. "

"What road might that be? I've never seen it. "

"Wait, and I'll show you, " said Lars, determined to continue up themountain. 

Now Börje sided with Jan, so Lars had to give in of course; butprecious time had been consumed while they argued with him, and Janfelt as if all the life had &one out of his body. 

"Nothing matters now, " thought he. "Eric of Falla will be beyondour help when we arrive. "

The old bay jogged along the forest road as well as it could, butit had not the strength for a heavy pull like this. It was poorlyshod, and stumbled time after time. When going uphill the men hadto get down from the sledge and walk, and when they came upontrackless unbeaten ground in the thick of the forest the horse wasalmost more of a hindrance than a help. 

At all events they got there finally. Strange to say, they foundEric of Falla in fairly good condition; he was not much hurt and nobones were broken. One of his thighs had been lacerated by abranch, and there he had an ugly wound; still it was nothing butwhat he could recover from. 

When Jan went back to his work the next morning he learned thatEric had a high fever and was suffering intense pain. While lyingon the frozen ground he had caught a severe cold, which developedinto pneumonia, and within a fortnight he was dead. 

THE RED DRESS

The summer the young girl was in her seventeenth year she went tochurch one Sunday with her parents. On the way she had worn ashawl, which she slipped off when she came to the church knoll. Then everybody noticed that she was wearing a dress such as hadnever before been seen in the parish. 

A travelling merchant, one of the kind that goes about with a hugepack on his back, had found his way to the Ashdales, and on seeingGlory Goldie in all the glow and freshness of her youth he hadtaken from his pack a piece of dress goods which he tried to induceher parents to buy for her. The cloth was a changeable red, of atexture almost like satin and as costly as it was beautiful. Ofcourse Jan and Katrina could not afford to buy for their girl adress of that sort, though Jan, at least, would have liked nothingbetter. 

Fancy! When the merchant had vainly pressed and begged the parentsfor a long while he grew terribly excited because he could not havehis way. He said he had set his heart on their daughter having thedress, that he had not seen another girl in the whole parish whowould set it off as well as she could. Whereupon he had measuredand cut off as much of the cloth as was needed for a frock, andpresented it to Glory Goldie. He did not want any payment, all heasked was to see the young girl dressed in the red frock the nexttime he came to Ruffluck. 

Afterward the frock was made up by the best seamstress in theparish, the one who sewed for the young ladies at Lövdala Manor, and when Glory Goldie tried it on the effect was so perfect thatone would have thought the two had blossomed together on one of thelovely wild briar bushes out in the forest. 

The Sunday Glory Goldie showed herself at church in her new dress, nothing could have kept Jan and Katrina at home, so curious werethey to hear what folks would say. 

And it turned out, as has been said, that everybody noticed the reddress. When the astonished folk had looked at it once they turnedand looked again; the second time, however, they glanced not onlyat the dress but at the young girl who wore it. 

Some had already heard the story of the dress. Others wanted toknow how it happened that a poor cotter's lass stood there in suchfine raiment. Then of course Katrina and Jan had to tell them allabout the travelling merchant's visit, and when they learned how ithad come about they were all glad that Fortuna had thought oftaking a little peep into the humble home down in the Ashdales. 

There were sons of landed proprietors who declared that if this girlhad been of less humble origin they would have proposed to her thenand there. And there were daughters of landed proprietors--some ofthem heiresses--who said to themselves that they would have givenhalf of their possessions for a face as rosy and young and radiantwith health as hers. 

That Sunday the Dean of Bro preached at the Svartsjö church, instead of the regular pastor. The dean was an austere, oldfashioned divine who could not abide extravagance in any form, whether in dress or other things. 

Seeing the young girl in the bright red frock he must have thoughtshe was arrayed in silk, for immediately after the service he toldthe sexton to call the girl and her parents, as he wished to speakwith them. Even he noticed that the girl and the dress went welltogether, but for all that he was none the less displeased. 

"My child, " he said, laying his hand on Glory Goldie's shoulder, "Ihave something I want to say to you. Nobody could prevent me fromwearing the vestments of a bishop, if I so wished; but I never doit because I don't want to appear to be something more than what Iam. For the same reason you should not dress as though you were ayoung lady of quality, when you are only the daughter of a poorcrofter. "

These were cutting words, and poor Glory Goldie was so dismayed shecould not answer. But Katrina promptly informed him that the girlhad received the cloth as a gift. 

"Be that as it may, " spoke the dean. "But parents, can't youcomprehend that if you allow your daughter to array herself once ortwice in this fashion she will never again want to put on the kindof clothes you are able to provide for her?"

Now that the dean had spoken his mind in plain words he turnedaway; but before he was out of earshot Jan was ready with a retort. 

"If this little girl could be clothed as befits her, she would beas gorgeous as the sun itself, " said he. "For a sunbeam of joy shehas been to us since the day she was born. "

The dean came back and regarded the trio thoughtfully. Both Katrinaand Jan looked old and toil worn, but the eyes in their furrowedfaces shone when they turned them toward the radiant young beingstanding between them. 

Then the dean felt it would be a shame to mar the happiness ofthese two old people. Addressing himself to the young girl, he saidin a mild voice:

"If it is true that you have been a light and a comfort to yourpoor parents, then you may well wear your fine dress with a goodgrace. For a child that can bring happiness to her father andmother is the best sight that our eyes may look upon. "

THE NEW MASTER

When the Ruffluck family came home from church the Sunday the deanhad spoken so beautifully to Glory Goldie they found two menperched on their fence, close to the gate. One of the men was LarsGunnarson, who had become master of Falla after Eric's death, theother was a clerk from the store down at Broby, where Katrinabought her coffee and sugar. 

They looked so indifferent and unconcerned sitting there that Jancould hardly think they wanted to see him; so he simply raised hiscap as he went past them into the house, without speaking. 

The men remained where they were. Jan wished they would go sitwhere he could not see them. He knew that Lars had harboured agrudge against him since that ill-fated day in the forest and hadhinted more than once that Jan was getting old and would not beworth his day's wage much longer. 

Katrina brought on the midday meal, which was hurriedly eaten. LarsGunnarson and the clerk still sat on the fence, laughing andchatting. They reminded Jan of a pair of hawks biding their time toswoop down upon helpless prey. Finally the men got down off thefence, opened the gate, and went toward the house. 

Then, after all, they had come to see him!

Jan had a strong presentment that they wished him ill. He glancedanxiously about, as if to find some earner where he might hide. Then his eyes fell on Glory Goldie, who also sat looking outthrough the window, and instantly his courage came back. 

Why should he be afraid when he had a daughter like her? hethought. Glory Goldie was wise and resourceful, and afraid ofnothing. Luck was always on her side, so that Lars Gunnarson wouldfind it far from easy to get the best of her!

When the two men came in they seemed as unconcerned as before. YetLars said that after sitting so long on the fence looking at thepretty little house they had finally taken a notion to step inside. 

They lavished praises upon everything in the house and Larsremarked that Jan and Katrina had reason to feel very thankful toEric of Falla; for of course it was he who had made it possible forthem to build a home and to marry. 

"That reminds me, " he said quickly, looking away from Jan andKatrina. "I suppose Eric of Falla had the foresight to give you adeed to the land on which the hut stands?"

Neither Jan nor Katrina said a word. Instantly they knew that Larshad now come to the matter he wanted to discuss with them. 

"I understand there are no papers in existence, " continued Lars, "but I can't believe it is so bad as all that. For in that eventthe house would fall to the owner of the land. "

Still Jan said nothing, but Katrina was too indignant to keepsilent any longer. 

"Eric of Falla gave us the lot on which this house stands, " shesaid, "and no one has the right to take it away from us!"

"And no one has any intention of doing so, " said the new owner in apacifying tone. He only wanted to have everything regular, that wasall. If Jan could let him have a hundred rix-dollars by Octoberfairtime--

"A hundred rix-dollars!" Katrina broke in, her voice rising almostto a shriek. 

Lars drew his head back and tightened his lips. 

"And you, Jan, you don't say a word!" said Katrina reproachfully. "Don't you hear that Lars wants to squeeze from us one hundredrix-dollars?"

"It won't be so easy, perhaps, for Jan to come up with one hundredrix-dollars, " returned Lars Gunnarson, "but just the same I've gotto know what's mine. "

"And so you're going to steal our hut?"

"Nothing of the kind!" said Lars. "The hut is yours. It's the landI'm after. "

"Then we can move the hut off of your land, " said Katrina. 

"It would hardly be worth your while to go to the bother of movingsomething you'll not be able to keep. "

"Well, I never!" gasped Katrina. "Then you really do mean to layhands on our property?"

Lars Gunnarson made a gesture of protest. 

No, of course he did not want to put a lien on the house, not he!Had he not already told them as much? But it so happened that thestorekeeper at Broby had sent his clerk with some accounts that hadnot been settled. 

The clerk now produced the bills and laid them on the table. Katrina pushed them over to Glory Goldie and told her to figure upthe total amount due. 

It was no less than one hundred rix-dollars that they owed!

Katrina went white as a sheet. "I see that you mean to turn us outof house and home, " she said, faintly. 

"Oh, no, " answered Lars, "not if you pay what you owe. "

"You ought to think of your own parents, Lars, " Katrina remindedhim. "They, too, had their struggles before you became the son-in-lawof a rich farmer. "

Katrina had to do all the talking, as Jan would not say anything;he only sat and looked at Glory Goldie--looked and waited. To hismind this affair was just something that had been planned for herspecial benefit, that she might prove her worth. 

"When you take the hut away from the poor man he's done for, "wailed Katrina. 

"I don't want to take the hut, " said Lars Gunnarson, on thedefensive. "All I want is a settlement. "

But Katrina was not listening. "As long as the poor man has hishome he's as good as anybody else, but the homeless man knows he'snobody. "

Jan felt that Katrina was right. The hut was built of old lumberand stood aslant on a poor foundation. Small and cramped itcertainly was, but just the same it seemed as if all would be overfor them if they lost it. Jan, for his part, could not think for asecond it would be as bad as that. Was not his Glory Goldie there?And could he not see how her eyes were beginning to flash fire? Ina little while she would say something or do something that woulddrive these tormentors away. 

"Of course you've got to have time to think it over, " said the newowner. "But bear in mind that either you move on the first ofOctober or you pay the storekeeper at Broby the one hundredrix-dollars you owe him on or before that date. Besides, I musthave another hundred for the land. "

Old Katrina sat wringing her toil-gnarled hands. She was so wroughtup that she talked to herself, not caring who heard her. 

"How can I go to church and how can I be seen among people when I'mso poor I haven't even a hut to live in?"

Jan was thinking of something else. He called to mind all thebeautiful memories associated with the hut. It was here, near thetable, the midwife had laid the child in his arms. It was overthere, in the doorway, he had stood when the sun peeped out throughthe clouds to name the little girl. The hut was one with himself;with Katrina; with Glory Goldie. It could never be lost to them. 

He saw Glory Goldie clench her fist, and felt that she would cometo their aid very soon. 

Presently Lars Gunnarson and the shopkeeper's clerk got up andmoved toward the door. When they left they said "good-bye, " but notone of the three who remained in the hut rose or returned thesalutation. 

The moment the men were gone the young girl, with a proud toss ofher head, sprang to her feet. 

"If you would only let me go out in the world!" she said. 

Katrina suddenly ceased mumbling and wringing her hands. GloryGoldie's words had awakened in her a faint hope. 

"It shouldn't be so very difficult to earn a couple of hundredrix-dollars between now and the first of October, " said the girl. "This is only midsummer, so it's three whole months till then. Ifyou will let me go to Stockholm and take service there, I promiseyou the house shall remain in your keeping. "

When Jan of Ruffluck heard these words he grew ashen. His head sankback as if he were about to swoon. How dear of the little girl! hethought. It was for this he had waited the whole time--yet how, howcould he ever bear to let her go away from him?

ON THE MOUNTAIN-TOP

Jan of Ruffluck walked along the forest road where he and hiswomenfolk, happy and content, had passed on the way home fromchurch a few hours earlier. 

He and Katrina, after long deliberation, had decided that beforesending their daughter away or doing anything else in this matterthat Jan had better see Senator Carl Carlson of Storvik and ask himwhether Lars Gunnarson had the right to take the hut from them. 

There was no one in the whole of Svartsjö Parish who was so wellversed in the law and the statutes as was the senator from Storvik, and those who had the good sense to seek his advice in matters ofpurchase and sale, in making appraisals, or setting up an auction, or drawing up a will, could rest assured that everything would bedone in a correct and legal manner and that afterward there was nofear of their becoming involved in lawsuits or other entanglements. 

The senator was a stern and masterful man, brusque of manner andharsh of voice, and Jan was none too pleased at the thought ofhaving to talk with him. 

"The first thing he'll do when I come to him will be to read me alecture because I've got no papers, " thought Jan. "He has scaredsome folks so badly at the very start that they never dared tellhim what they had come to consult him about. "

Jan left home in such haste that he had no time to think about thedreadful man he was going to see. But while passing through thegroves of the Ashdales toward the big forest the old dread cameover him. "It was mighty stupid in me not to have taken GloryGoldie along!" he said to himself. 

When leaving home he had not seen the girl about, so he concludedthat she had betaken herself to some lonely spot in the woods, toweep away her grief, as she never wanted to be seen by any one whenshe felt downhearted. 

Just as Jan was about to turn from the road into the forest heheard some one yodelling and singing up on the mountain, to rightof him. He stopped and listened. It was a woman's voice; surely itcould not be the one it sounded like! In any case, he must know fora certainty before going farther. 

He could hear the song clearly and distinctly, but the singer washidden by the trees. Presently he turned from the road and pushedhis way through some tangle-brush in the hope of catching a glimpseof her; but she was not as near as he had imagined. Nor was shestanding still. On the contrary, she seemed to be moving fartheraway--farther away and higher up. 

At times the singing seemed to come from directly above him. Thesinger must be going up to the peak, he thought. 

She had evidently taken a winding path leading up the mountain, where it was almost perpendicular. Here there was a thick growth ofyoung birches; so of course he could not see her. She seemed to bemounting higher and higher, with the swiftness of a bird on thewing, singing all the while. 

Then Jan started to climb straight up the mountain; but in hiseagerness he strayed from the path and had to make his way throughthe bewildering woods. No wonder he was left far behind! Besides hehad begun to feel as if he had a heavy weight on his chest; hecould hardly get his breath as he tramped uphill, straining hisears to catch the song. Finally he went so slowly that he seemednot to be moving at all. 

It was not easy to distinguish voices out in the woods, where therewas so much that rustled and murmured and chimed in, as it were. But Jan felt that he must get to where he could see the one who forvery joy went flying up the steep. Otherwise he would harbourdoubts and misgivings the rest of his life. He knew that once hewas on the mountain top, where it was barren of trees, the singercould not elude him. 

The view from the summit was glorious. From there could be seen thewhole of long Lake Löven, the green vales encircling the lake andall the blue hills that shelter the valley. When folks from theshut-in Ashdales climbed to the towering peak they must havethought of the mountain whither the Tempter had once taken OurLord, that he might show Him all the kingdoms of the world, andtheir glories. 

When Jan had at last left the dense woods behind him and had cometo a cleared place, he saw the singer. At the top of the highestpeak was a cairn, and on the topmost stone of this cairnsilhouetted against the pale evening sky stood Glory GoldieSunnycastle, in her scarlet dress. 

If the folk in the dales and woodlands below had turned their eyestoward the peak just then, they would have seen her standing therein her shining raiment. 

Glorv Goldie looked out over miles and miles of country. She sawsteep hills crowned with white churches on the shores of the lake, manors and founderies surrounded by parks and gardens, rows offarmhouses along the skirt of the woods, stretches of field andmeadow land, winding roads and endless tracts of forest. 

At first she sang. But presently she hushed her singing and thoughtonly of gazing out over the wide, open world before her. Suddenlyshe flung out her arms as if wanting to take it all into herembrace--all this wealth and power and bigness from which she hadbeen shut out until that day. 

Jan did not return until far into the night, and when he reachedhome he could give no coherent account of his movements. Hedeclared he had seen and talked with the senator, but what thesenator had advised him to do he could not remember. 

"It's no good trying to do anything, " he said again and again. That was all the satisfaction Katrina got. 

Jan walked all bent over, and looked ill. Earth and moss clung tohis coat, and Katrina asked him if he had fallen and hurt himself. 

"No, " he told her, but he may have lain on the ground a while. 

Then he must be ill, thought Katrina. 

It was not that either. It was just that something had stopped theinstant it dawned on him that his little girl had offered to savethe home for her parents not out of love for them, but because shelonged to get away and go out in tine world. But this he would notspeak of. 

THE EVE OF DEPARTURE

The evening before Glory Goldie of Ruffluck left for Stockholm Jandiscovered no end of things that had to be attended to all at once. He had no sooner got home from his work than he must betake himselfto the forest to gather firewood, whereupon he set about fixing abroken board in the gate that had been hanging loose a whole year. When he had finished with that he dragged out his fishing tackleand began to overhaul it. 

All this time he was thinking how strange it seemed not to feel anyactual regret. Now he was the same as he had been seventeen yearsbefore; he felt neither glad nor sad. His heart had stopped like awatch that has received a hard blow when he had seen Glory Goldieon the mountain-top, opening her arms to the whole world. 

It had been like this with him once before. Then folks had wantedhim to be glad of the little girl's coming, but he had not cared abit about it; now they all expected him to be sad and disconsolateover her departure, and he was not that, either. 

The hut was full of people who had come to say good-bye to GloryGoldie. Jan had not the face to go in and let them see that heneither wept nor wailed; so he thought it best to stop outside. 

At all events it was a good thing for him matters had taken thisturn, for if all had been as before he knew he should never havebeen able to endure the separation, and all the heartache andloneliness. 

A while ago, in passing by the window, he had noticed that the hutinside was decked with leaves and wild flowers. On the table werecoffee cups, as on the day of which he was thinking. Katrina wasgiving a little party in honour of the daughter who was to fareforth into the wide world to save the home. Every one seemed to beweeping, both the housefolk and those who had come to bid thelittle girl Godspeed. Jan heard Glory Goldie's sobs away out in theyard, but they had no effect upon him. 

"My good people, " he mumbled to himself, "this is as it should be. Look at the young birds! They are thrust out of the nest if theydon't leave it willingly. Have you ever watched a young cuckoo?What could be worse than the sight of him lying in the nest, fatand sleek, and shrieking for food the whole blessed day while hisparents wear themselves out to provide for him? It won't do to letthe young ones sit around at home and become a burden to us olderones. They have got to go out into the world and shift forthemselves my good friends. "

At last all was quiet in the house. The neighbours had left, sothat Jan could just as well have gone inside; but he went onputtering with his fishing tackle a while longer. He would ratherthat Glory Goldie and Katrina should be in bed and asleep before hecrossed the threshold. 

By and by, when he had heard no sound from within for ever so long, he stole up to the house as cautiously as a thief. 

The womenfolk had not retired. As Jan passed by the open window hesaw Glory Goldie sitting with her arms stretched out across thetable, her head resting on them. It looked as if she were stillcrying. Katrina was standing back in the room wrapping her bigshawl around Glory Goldie's bundle of clothing. 

"You needn't bother with that, mother, " said Glory Goldie withoutraising her head. "Can't you see that father is mad at me becauseI'm leaving?"

"Then he'll have to get glad again, " returned Katrina, calmly. 

"You say that because you don't care for him, " said the girl, through her sobs. "All you think about is the hut. But fatherand I, we think of each other, and I'll not leave him!"

"But what about the hut?" asked Katrina. 

"It can go as it will with the hut, if only father will care for meagain. "

Jan moved quietly away from the door, where he had been standing amoment, listening, and sat down on the step. He never thought foran instant that Glory Goldie would remain at home. Indeed he knewbetter than did any one else that she must go away. All the same itwas to him as if the soft little bundle had again been laid in hisarms. His heart had been set going once more. Now it was beatingaway in his breast as if trying to make up for lost time. With thathe felt that his armour of defence was gone. 

Then came grief and longing. He saw them as dark shadows in amongthe trees. He opened his arms to them, a smile of happinesslighting his face. 

"Welcome! Welcome!" he cried. 

AT THE PIER

When the steamer _Anders Fryxell_ pulled out from the pier at BorgPoint with Glory Goldie of Ruffluck on board, Jan and Katrina stoodgazing after it until they could no longer see the faintest outlineof either the girl or the boat. Every one else had left the pier, the watchman had hauled down the flag and locked the freight shed, but they still tarried. 

It was only natural that the parents should stand there as long asthey could see anything of the boat, but why they did not go theirways afterward they hardly knew themselves. Perhaps they dreadedthe thought of going home again, of stepping into the lonely but ineach other's company. 

"I've got no one but him to cook for now!" mused Katrina, "no onebut him to wait for! But what do I care for him? He could just aswell have gone, too. It was the girl who understood him and all hissilly talk, not I. I'd be better off alone. "

"It would be easier to go home with my grief if I didn't have thatsour-faced old Katrina sitting round the house, " thought Jan. "Thegirl knew so well how to get on with her, and could make her happyand content; but now I suppose I'll never get another civil wordfrom that quarter. "

Of a sudden Jan gave a start. Bending forward he clapped his handsto his knees. His eyes kindled with new-found hope and his wholeface shone. He kept his gaze on the water and Katrina thoughtsomething extraordinary must have riveted his attention, althoughshe, who stood beside him, saw nothing save the ceaseless play ofthe gray-green waves, chasing each other across the surface of thelake, with never a stop. 

Jan ran to the far end of the pier and bent down over the water, with the look on his face which he always wore whenever GloryGoldie approached him, but which he could never put on when talkingto any one else. His mouth opened and his lips moved as though hewere speaking, but not a word was heard by Katrina. Smile aftersmile crossed his face, just as when the girl used to stand andrail at him. 

"Why, Jan!" said Katrina, "what has come over you?"

He did not reply, but motioned to her to be still. Then hestraightened himself a little. His gaze seemed to be followingsomething that glided away over the gray-green waves. Whatever itwas, it moved quickly in the direction the boat had taken. Now Janno longer bent forward but stood quite upright, shading his eyeswith his hand that he might see the better. Thus he remainedstanding till there was nothing more to be seen, apparently. Then, turning to Katrina, he said:

"You didn't see anything, perhaps?"

"What can one see here but the lake and its waves?"

"The little girl came rowing back, " Jan told her, his voice loweredto a whisper. "She had borrowed a boat of the captain. I noticed itwas marked exactly like the steamer. She said there was somethingshe had forgotten about when she left; it was something she wantedto say to us. "

"My dear Jan, you don't know what you're talking about! If the girlhad come back then I, too, would have seen her. "

"Hush now, and I'll tell you what she wants of us!" said Jan, insolemn and mysterious whispers. "It seems she had begun to worryabout us; she was afraid we two wouldn't get on by ourselves. Before she had always walked between us, she said, with one hand inmine and the other in yours, and in that way everything had gonewell. But now that she wasn't here to keep us together she didn'tknow what might happen, 'Now perhaps father and mother will gotheir separate ways, ' she said. "

"Sakes alive!" gasped Katrina, "that she should have thought ofthat!" The woman was so affected by what had just been said--forthe words were the echo of her own thoughts--that she quite forgotthat the daughter could not possibly have come back to the pier andtalked with Jan without her seeing it. 

"'So now I've come back to join your hands, ' said he, 'and youmustn't let go of each other, but keep a firm hold for my sake tillI return and link hands with you again. ' As soon as she had saidthis she rowed away. "

There was silence for a moment on the pier. 

"And here's my hand, " Jan said presently, in an uncertain voicethat betrayed both shyness and anxiety--and put out a hand, whichdespite all his hard toil had always remained singularly soft. "Ido this because the girl wants me to, " he added. 

"And here's mine, " said Katrina. "I don't understand what it couldhave been that you saw, but if you and the girl want us to sticktogether, so do I. "

Then they went all the way home to their but, hand in hand. 

THE LETTER

0ne morning when Glory Goldie had been gone about a fortnight, Janwas out in the pasture nearest the big forest, mending a wattledfence. He was so close to the woods that he could hear the murmurof the pines and see the grouse hen walking about under the trees, scratching for food-along line of grouse chicks trailing after her. 

Jan had nearly finished his work when he heard a loud bellowingfrom the wooded heights! It sounded so weird and awful he began tobe alarmed. He stood still a moment and listened. Soon he heard itagain. Then he knew it was nothing to be afraid of, but on thecontrary, it seemed to be a cry for help. 

He threw down his pickets and branches and hurried through thebirch grove into the dense fir woods, where he had not gone farbefore he discovered what was amiss. Up there was a big, treacherous marsh. A cow belonging to the Falla folk had gone downin a quagmire and Jan saw at once that it was the best cow they hadon the farm, one for which Lars Gunnarson had been offered twohundred rix-dollars. She had sunk deep in the mire and was now soterrified that she lay quite still and sent forth only feeble andintermittant bellowings. It was plain that she had struggleddesperately for she was covered with mud clear to her horns, andround about her the green moss-tufts had been torn up. She hadbellowed so loud that Jan thought every one in Ashdales must haveheard her, yet no one but himself had come up to the marsh. He didnot tarry a second, but ran straight to the farm for help. 

It was slow work setting poles in the marsh, laying out boards andslipping ropes under the cow, to draw her up by. For when the menreached her she had sunk to her back, so that only her head wasabove the mire. After they had finally dragged her back onto firmground and carted her home to Falla the housewife invited all whohad worked over the animal to come inside for coffee. 

No one had been so zealous in the rescue work as had Jan ofRuffluck. But for him the cow would have been lost. And just think!She was a cow worth at least two hundred rix-dollars. 

To Jan this seemed a rare stroke of luck. Surely the new master andmistress could not fail to recognize so great a service. Somethingof a similar nature once happened in the old master's time. Then itwas a horse that had been impaled on a picket fence. The one whofound the horse and had it carted home received from Eric of Fallaa reward of ten rix-dollars; And that despite the fact that thebeast was so badly injured that Eric had to shoot it. 

But the cow was alive and in nowise harmed. So Jan pictured himselfgoing on the morrow to the sexton, or to some other person whocould write, to ask him to write to Glory Goldie and tell her tocome home. 

When Jan came into the living-room at Falla he naturally drewhimself up a bit. The old housewife was pouring coffee and he didnot wonder at it when she handed him his cup before even LarsGunnarson had been served. Then, while they were all having theircoffee, every one spoke of how well Jan had done, that is, everyone but the farmer and his wife; not a word of praise came fromthem. 

But now that Jan felt so confident his hard times were over and hisluck was coming back, it was easy for him to find grounds forcomfort. It might be that Lars was silent because he wished to makewhat he would say all the more impressive. But he was certainlywithholding his thanks a distressingly long while. 

The situation had become embarrassing. The others had stoppedtalking and looked a little uncomfortable. When the old mistresswent round to refill the coffee cups some of the men hesitated; Janamong them. 

"Oh, have another wee drop, Jan!" she said. "If you hadn't been soquick to act we would have lost a cow that's worth her two hundredrix-dollars. "

This was followed by a dead silence, and now every one's eyesturned toward the man of the house. All were waiting for someexpression of appreciation from him. 

Lars cleared his throat two or three times, as if to give addedweight to what he was about to say. 

"It strikes me there's something queer about this whole business, "he began. "You all know that Jan owes two hundred rix-dollars andyou also know that last spring I was offered just that sum for thecow. It seems to fit in altogether too well with Jan's case thatthe cow should have gone down in the marsh to-day and that heshould have rescued her. "

Lars paused and again cleared his throat. Jan rose and moved towardhim; but neither he nor any of the others had an answer ready. 

"I don't know how Jan happened to be the one who heard the cowbellowing up in the marsh, " pursued Lars. "Perhaps he was nearerthe scene when the mishap occurred than he would have us think. Maybe he saw a possibility of getting out of debt and deliberatelydrove the cow--"

Jan brought his fist down on the table with a crash that made thecups jump in their saucers. 

"You judge others by yourself, you!" he said, "That's the sort ofthing you might do, but not I. You must know that I can see throughyour tricks. One day last winter you--"

But just when Jan was on the point of saying something that couldonly have ended in an irreparable break between himself and hisemployer, the old housewife tipped him by the coat sleeve. 

"Look out, Jan!" said she. 

Jan did so. Then he saw Katrina coming toward the house with aletter in her hand. 

That was surely the letter from Glory Goldie which they had beenlonging for every day since her departure. Katrina, knowing howhappy Jan would be to get this, had come straight over with it themoment it arrived. 

Jan glanced about him, bewildered. Many ugly words were on the tipof his tongue, but now he had no time to give vent to them. Whatdid he care about being revenged on Lars Gunnarson? Why should hebother to defend himself? The letter drew him away with a powerthat was irresistible. He was out of the house and with Katrinabefore the people inside had recovered from their dread of what hemight have hurled at his employer in the way of accusation. 

AUGUST DÄR NOL

0ne evening, when Glory Goldie had been gone about a month, AugustDär Nol came down to the Ashdales. August and Glory had beencomrades at the Östanby school and had been confirmed the samesummer. 

A fine, manly lad was August Där Nol, and a favourite with everyone. His parents were people of means and no one had a brighter ormore assured future to look forward to than had he. Having beenabsent from home for six months, he had only learned on his returnthat Glory Goldie had gone away in order to earn money to save herold home. It was his mother who told him of this, and before shehad finished talking he snatched up his cap and rushed out, neverpausing until he had reached the gate at Ruffluck Croft; there hestopped and looked toward the hut. 

Katrina saw August standing there and made a pretext of going tothe well for water in order to speak to him; but the lad did notappear to see her, so Katrina immediately went back into the house. 

Then in a little while Jan came down from the forest with an armfulof wood, and when August saw him coming he stepped to one sideuntil he, too, had gone in; then he went back to the gate. 

Presently the window of the hut swung open, disclosing Jan seatedat one side of the window-table smoking his pipe, and Katrina atthe other side, knitting. 

"Well, Katrina dear, " said Jan, "now we're having a real cosyevening. There's only one thing I wish for. "

"I wish for a hundred things!" sighed Katrina, "and if I couldhave them all I'd still be unsatisfied. "

"But I only wish the seine-maker, or somebody else who can read, would drop in and read us Glory Goldie's letter. "

"You've had that letter read to you so many times since you got itthat you ought to know it by heart. "

"That may be true enough, " returned Jan, "but still it always doesme good to hear it read, for then I feel as though the little girlherself were standing and talking to me, and I seem to see her eyesbeam on me as I listen to her words. "

"I wouldn't mind hearing it again, myself, " said Katrina, glancingout through the open window. "But on a fine light evening like thiswe can't expect folks to come to our hut. "

"It would be better to me than the taste of white bread with coffeeto hear Glory Goldie's letter read while I'm sitting here smoking, "declared Jan, "but I'm sure every one in the Ashdales has growntired of being asked to read the letter over and over, and now Idon't know who to turn to. "

The words were hardly out of his mouth, when the door opened, andin walked August Där Nol. Jan started in surprise. 

"Bless me! Here you come, my dear August, just when wanted. " AfterJan had shaken hands with the caller and pulled up a chair for himhe said: "I've got a letter I'd like you to read to us. It's froman old schoolmate of yours. Maybe you'd be interested to hear howshe's getting on?"

August Där Nol took the letter and read it aloud, lingering overeach word as if drinking it in. When he had finished, Jan remarked:

"How wonderfully well you read, my dear August! I've never heardGoldie's words sound as beautiful as from your lips. Would you dome the favour to read the letter once more?"

Then the boy read the letter for the second time, with the samedeep feeling. It was as if he had come with a thirst-parched throatto a spring of pure water. When he had read to the end he carefullyfolded the letter and smoothed it over with his hand. As he wasabout to return it to Jan, it occurred to him the letter had notbeen properly folded and he must do it over. That done, he sat verysilent. Jan tried to start a conversation, but failed. Finally theboy rose to go. 

"It's so nice to get a little help sometimes, " said Jan. "Now Ihave another favour to ask of you. We don't know just what to dowith Glory Goldie's kitten. It will have to be put out of the way, I suppose, as we can't afford to keep it; but I can't bear thethought of that, nor has Katrina the heart to drown it. We'vetalked of asking some stranger to take it. "

August Där Nol stammered a few words, which could scarcely beheard. 

"You can put the kitten in a basket, Katrina, " Jan said to hiswife, "then August will take it along, so that we'll not have tosee it again. "

Katrina then picked up a little kitten that lay asleep on the bed, placed it in an old basket around which she wrapped a cloth, andthen turned it over to the boy. 

"I'm glad to be rid of this kitten, " said Jan. "It's wee happy andPlayful--too much like Glory Goldie herself. It's best to have itout of the way. "

Young Där Nol, without a word, went toward the door; but suddenlyhe turned back, took Jan's hand, and pressed it. 

"Thanks!" he said in a choked voice. "You have given me more thanyou yourself know. "

"Don't imagine it, my dear August Där Nol!" Jan said to himselfwhen the boy had gone. "This is something I understand about. Iknow what I've given you, and I know who has taught me to know. "

OCTOBER THE FIRST

The first day of October Jan lay on the bed the whole afternoon, fully dressed, his face turned to the wall, and nobody could get aword out of him. 

In the forenoon he and Katrina had been down to the pier to meetthe little girl. Not that Glory Goldie had written them to say shewas coming, for indeed she had not! It was only that Jan hadfigured out that it could not be otherwise. This was the first ofOctober, the day the money must be paid to Lars Gunnarson, so ofcourse Glory Goldie would come. He had not expected her homeearlier. He knew she would have to remain in Stockholm as long asshe could in order to lay by all that money; but that she should beaway any longer he never supposed. Even if she had not succeeded inscraping together the money, that was no reason why she should beaway after the first of October. 

That morning while Jan had stood on the pier waiting, he had saidto himself: "When the little girl sees us from the boat she'll puton a sad face, and the moment she lands she'll tell us she has notbeen able to raise the money. When she says that Katrina and I willpretend to take her at her word and I'll say that can't understandhow she dared come home when she knew that all Katrina and I caredabout was the money. " He was sure that before they were away fromthe pier she would go down in her pocket, bring up a well-filledpurse, and turn it over to them. Then, while Katrina counted thebank notes, he would only stand and look at Glory Goldie. Thelittle girl would then see that all in the world he cared about wasto have her back, and she would tell him he was just as big asimpleton now as when she went away. 

Thus had Jan pictured to himself Glory Goldie's homecoming. But hisdream did not come true. 

That day he and Katrina did not have a long wait at the pier. Theboat arrived on time, but it was so overladen with passengers andfreight bound for the Broby Fair that at first glance they wereunable to tell whether or not the little girl was on board. Jan hadexpected that she would be the first to come tripping down thegangplank; but only a couple of men came ashore. Then Jan attemptedto look for her on the boat; but he could get nowhere for thecrush. All the same he felt so positive she was there that when thedeck hands began to draw in the gangplank he shouted to the captainnot to let the boat leave as there was another person to comeashore here. The captain questioned the purser, who assured himthere were no more passengers for Svartsjö. 

Then the boat pulled out and Katrina and Jan had to go home bythemselves, and the moment they were inside the hut Jan casthimself down on the bed--so weary and disheartened that he did notknow how he would ever be able to get up again. 

The Ashdales folk who had seen the father and mother return fromthe pier without Glory Goldie were greatly concerned. One after theother, the neighbours dropped in at Ruffluck to find out how mattersstood with them. 

Was it true that Glory Goldie had not come on the boat? Theyinquired. And was it true that they had received no letter ormessage from her during the whole month of September?

Jan answered not a word to all their queries. It mattered not whocame in--he lay still. Katrina had to enlighten the neighbours asbest she could. They thought Jan lay on the bed because he was indespair of losing the hut. They could think what they liked for allof him. 

Katrina wept and wailed, and once inside the friends felt they mustremain, if only out of pity for her, and to give what littlecomfort they could. 

It was not likely that Lars Gunnarson would take the house fromthem, they said. The old mistress of Falla would never let thathappen. She had always shown herself to be a just and uprightperson. Besides, the day was not over yet, and Glory Goldie mightstill be heard from. To be sure it would be nothing short ofmarvellous if she had succeeded in earning 200 rix-dollars in lessthan three months' time: but then, that girl always had such goodluck. 

They discussed the chances for and against. Katrina informed themthat Glory Goldie had earned nothing whatever the first weeks, thatshe had taken lodgings with a family from Svartsjö, now living inStockholm, where she had been obliged to pay for her keep. And thenone day she had had the good fortune to meet in the street themerchant who had given her the red dress, and he had found a placefor her. 

Would it not be reasonable to suppose that the merchant had alsoraised the money for her? That was not altogether impossible. 

"No, it was not impossible, " said Katrina, "but since the girl hasneither come herself nor written it's plain she has failed. "

Every one in the hut grew more anxious and apprehensive for everymoment that passed. They all felt that some dire misfortune wouldsoon fall upon those who lived there. When the tension was becomingunbearable the door opened once more and a man who was seldom seenin the Ashdales came in. 

The instant this man entered it became as still in the hut as on awinter night in the forest, and every one's eyes save Jan's aloneturned toward him. Jan did not stir, although Katrina whispered tohim that Senator Carl Carlson of Storvik had just come in. 

The senator held in his hand a roll of papers and every one tookfor granted that he had been sent here by the new owner of Falla, to notify the Ruffluck folk of what must befall them, now that theycould not meet Lars Gunnarson's claim. 

Carl Carlson wore his usual magisterial mien and no one could guesshow heavily the blow he had come to deal would fall. He went up andshook hands, first with Katrina, then with the others, and each onein turn rose as he came to them; the only one who did not rise wasJan. 

"I am not very well acquainted in this district, " said the senator, "but I gather that this must be the place in the Ashdales that iscalled Ruffluck Croft. "

It was of course. Every one nodded in the affirmative, but no onewas able to utter an audible word. They wondered that Katrina hadthe presence of mind to nudge Börje, and make him get up and givehis chair to the senator. 

After drawing the chair up to the table the senator laid the rollof papers down, then he took out his snuff box and placed it besidethe papers, whereupon he removed his spectacles from their case andwiped them with his big blue-and-white checkered handkerchief. After these preliminaries he glanced round the room, looking fromone person to the other. Those who sat there were persons of suchlittle importance he did not even know them by name. 

"I wish to speak with Jan Anderson of Ruffluck, " he said. 

"That's him over there, " volunteered the seine-maker, pointing atthe bed. 

"Is he sick?" inquired the senator. 

"Oh, no! Oh, no!" replied half a dozen at the same time. 

"And he isn't drunk, either, " added Börje. 

"Nor is he asleep, " said the seine-maker. 

"He has walked so far to-day he's all tired out, " said Katrina, thinking it best to explain the matter in that way. At the sametime she bent down over her husband and tried to persuade him torise. 

But Jan lay still. 

"Does he understand what I'm saying?" asked the senator. 

"Yes indeed, " they all assured him. 

"Perhaps he's not expecting any glad tidings, seeing it's SenatorCarl Carlson who is paying him a call. " This from the seine-maker. 

The senator turned his head and stared at the seine-maker. "Ol'Bengtsa of Lusterby has not always been so afraid of meeting CarlCarlson of Storvik, " he observed in a mild voice. Turning towardthe table again, he took up a letter. 

Every one was dumbfounded. The senator had actually spoken in afriendly tone. He could almost be said to have smiled. 

"The fact is, " he began, "a couple of days ago I received acommunication from a person who calls herself Glory GoldieSunnycastle, daughter of Jan of Ruffluck, in which she says sheleft home some months ago to try to earn two-hundred rix-dollars, which sum her parents have to pay to Lars Gunnarson of Falla on thefirst day of October in order to obtain full rights of ownership tothe land on which their hut stands. "

Here the senator paused a moment so that his hearers would be ableto follow him. 

"And now she sends the money to me, " he continued, "with therequest that I come down to the Ashdales and see that this matteris properly settled with the new owner of Falla; so that he won'tbe able to play any new trick later on. "

"That girl has got some sense in her head, " the senator remarked ashe folded the letter. "She turns to me from the start. If all didas she has done there would be less cheating and injustice in thisparish. "

Before the close of that remark Jan was sitting on the edge of thebed. "But the girl? Where is she?" he asked. 

"And now I'd like to know, " the senator proceeded, taking no noticeof Jan's question, "whether the parents are in accord with thedaughter and authorize me to close--"

"But the girl, the girl?" Jan struck in. "Where is she?"

"Where she is?" said the senator, looking in the letter to see. "She says it was impossible for her to earn all this money in justtwo or three months, but she has found a place with a kind lady, who advanced her the money, and now she will have to stay with thelady until she has made it good. "

"Then she's not coming home?" Jan asked. 

"No, not for the present, as I understand it, " replied the senator. 

Again Jan lay down on the bed and turned his face to the wall. 

What did he care for the hut and all that? What was the good of hisgoing on living, when his little girl was not coming back?

THE DREAM BEGINS

The first few weeks after the senator's call Jan was unable to do astroke of work: he just lay abed and grieved. Every morning he roseand put on his clothes, intending to go to his work; but before hewas outside the door he felt so weak and weary that all he could dowas to go back to bed. 

Katrina tried to be patient with Jan, for she understood thatpining, like any other sickness, had to run its course. Yet shecould not help wondering how long it would be before Jan's intenseyearning for Glory Goldie subsided. "Perhaps he'll be lying roundlike this till Christmas!" she thought. "Or possibly the wholewinter?"

And this might have been the case, too, had not the old seine-makerdropped in at Ruffluck one evening and been asked to stay forcoffee. 

The seine-maker, like most persons whose thoughts are far away andwho do not keep in touch with what happens immediately about them, was always taciturn. But when his coffee had been poured and he hademptied it into his saucer, to let it cool, it struck him that heought to say something. 

"To-day there's bound to be a letter from Glory Goldie, " he said. "I feel it in my bones. "

"We had greetings from her only a fortnight ago in her letter tothe senator, " Katrina reminded him. 

The seine-maker blew into his saucer a couple of times beforesaying anything more. Whereupon he again found it expedient tobridge a long silence with a word or so. 

"Maybe some blessing has come to the girl, and it has given hersomething to write about. "

"What kind of blessing might that be?" scouted Katrina. "Whenyou've got to drudge as a servant, one day is as humdrum asanother. "

The seine-maker bit off a corner of a sugar-lump and gulped hiscoffee. When he had finished an appalling stillness fell upon theroom. 

"It might be that Glory Goldie met some person in the street, " heblurted out, his half-dead eyes vacantly staring at space. Heseemed not to know what he was saying. 

Katrina did not think it necessary to respond; so replenished hiscup without speaking. 

"Maybe the person she met was an old lady who had difficulty inwalking, " the seine-maker went on in the same offhand manner, "andmaybe she stumbled and fell when Glory Goldie came along. "

"Would that be anything to write about?" asked Katrina, weary ofthis senseless talk. 

"But suppose Glory Goldie stopped and helped the old lady up?"pursued the seine-maker, "and she was so thankful to the girl forhelping her that she opened her purse and gave her all of tenrix-dollars--wouldn't that be worth telling?"

"Why certainly, " said Katrina, "if it were true. But this is justsomething you're making up. "

"It is well, sometimes, to be able to indulge in little thoughtfeasts, " contended the seine-maker, "they are often more satisfyingthan the real ones. "

"You've tried both kinds, " returned Katrina, "so you ought to know. "

The seine-maker went his way directly, and Katrina gave no furtherthought to his story. 

As for Jan, he took it at first as idle chatter. But lying abed, with nothing to take up his mind, presently he began to wonder ifthere was not some hidden meaning back of the seine-maker's words. The old man's tone sounded a bit peculiar when he spoke of theletter. Would he have sat there and made up such a long story onlyfor talk's sake? Perhaps he had heard something. Perhaps GloryGoldie had written to him? It was quite possible that something sogreat had come to the little girl that she dared not send directword to her parents, and wrote instead to the seine-maker, askinghim to prepare them. 

"He'll come again to-morrow, " thought Jan, "and then we'll hear allabout it. "

But for some reason the seine-maker did not come back the next day, nor the day after. By the third day Jan had become so impatient tosee his old friend that he got up and went over to his cabin, tofind out whether there was anything in what he had said. 

The old man was sitting alone mending a drag-net when Jan came in. He was so crippled from rheumatism, he said, he had been unable toleave the house for several days. 

Jan did not want to ask him outright if he had received a letterfrom Glory Goldie. He thought he would attain his object moreeasily by approaching it in the indirect way the other had taken. So he said:

"I've been thinking of what you told us about Glory Goldie the lasttime you were at our place. "

The seine-maker looked up from his work, puzzled. It was somelittle time before he comprehended what Jan alluded to. "Why, thatwas just a little whimsey of mine, " he returned presently. 

Then Jan went very close to the old man. "Anyhow it was somethingpleasant to listen to, " he said. "You might have told us more, perhaps, if Katrina hadn't been so mistrustful?"

"Oh, yes, " replied the seine-maker. "This is the sort of amusementone can afford to indulge in down here, in the Ashdales. "

"I have thought, " continued Jan, emboldened by the encouragement, "that maybe the story didn't end with the old lady giving GloryGoldie the ten rix-dollars. Perhaps she also invited the girl tocome to see her?"

"Maybe she did, " said the seine-maker. 

"Maybe she's so rich that she owns a whole stone house?"

"That was a happy thought, friend Jan!"

"And maybe the rich old lady will pay Glory Goldie's debt?" Janbegan, but stopped short, because the old man's daughter-in-law hadjust come in, and of course he did not care to let her into thesecret. 

"So you're out to-day, Jan, " observed the daughter-in-law. "I'mglad you're feeling better. "

"For that I have to thank my good friend Ol' Bengtsa!" said Jan, with an air of mystery. "He's the one who has cured me. "

Jan said good-bye, and left at once. For a long while the seine-makersat gazing out after him. 

"I don't know what he can have meant by saying that I have curedhim, " the old man remarked to his daughter-in-law. "It can't bethat he's--? No, no!"

HEIRLOOMS

One evening, toward the close of autumn, Jan was on his way homefrom Falla, where he had been threshing all day. After his talkwith the seine-maker his desire for work had come back to him. Hefelt now that he must do what he could to keep up so that thelittle girl on her return would not be subjected to the humiliationof finding her parents reduced to the condition of paupers. 

When Jan was far enough away from the house not to be seen from thewindows he noticed a woman in the road coming toward him. Dusk hadalready fallen, but he soon saw it was the mistress herself--notthe new one, but the old and rightful mistress of Falla. She had ona big shawl that came down to the hem of her skirt. Jan had neverseen her so wrapped up, and wondered if she was ill. She had lookedpoorly of late. In the spring, when her husband died, she had not agray hair on her head, and now, half a year afterward, she had nota dark hair left. 

The old mistress stopped and greeted Jan, after which the two stoodand talked. She said nothing that would indicate that she had comeout expressly to see him, but he felt it to be so. It flashed intohis head that she wanted to speak with him about Glory Goldie, andhe was rather miffed when she began to talk about something quitedifferent. 

"I wonder, Jan, if you remember the old owner of Falla, my father, who was master there before Eric came?"

"Why shouldn't I remember him, when I was all of twelve at the timeof his death?"

"He had a good son-in-law, " said the old mistress. 

"He had that, " agreed Jan. 

The old mistress was silent a moment, and sighed once or twicebefore she continued: "I want to ask your advice about something, Jan. You are not the sort that would go about tittle-tattling whatI say. "

"No, I can hold my tongue. "

"Yes, I've noticed that this year. "

New hopes arose in Jan. It would not be surprising, thought he, ifGlory Goldie had turned to the old mistress of Falla and asked herto tell him and Katrina of the great thing that had come to her. For the old seine-maker had been taken down with rheumatic fevershortly after their interrupted conversation, and for weeks he hadbeen too ill to see him. Now he was up and about again, but veryfeeble. The worst of it was that after his illness his memoryseemed to be gone. He had waited for him to say something moreabout Glory Goldie's letter, but as he had failed to do so, andcould not even take a hint, he had asked him straight out. And theold man had declared he had not received any letter. To convinceJan he had pulled out the table drawer and thrown back the lid ofhis clothes-chest, to let him see for himself that there was nosuch letter. 

Of course he had forgotten what he did with it, Jan concluded. So, no wonder the little girl had turned to the mistress of Falla. Pityshe hadn't done it in the first place! Now that the old mistresswas hesitating so long he felt certain in his own mind that he wasright. But when she again returned to the subject of her father, hewas so surprised he could hardly follow her. She said:

"When father was nearing the end he summoned Eric of Falla to hisbedside and thanked him for his loving care of a helpless old manin his declining years. 'Don't think about that, Father, ' saidEric. 'We're glad to have you with us just as long as you care tostay. ' That's what Eric said. And he meant it, too!"

"He did that, " confirmed Jan. "There were no fox-tricks about him!"

"Wait, Jan!" said the mistress, "we'll just speak of the old peoplefor the present. Do you remember the long silver-mounted stickfather used to carry?"

"Yes; both the stick and the high leather cap he always wore whenhe went to church. "

"So you remember the cap, too? Do you know what father did at thelast? He told me to fetch him his stick and cap, and then he gavethem to Eric. 'I could have given you something that was worth moremoney, ' he told Eric, 'but I am giving you these instead, for Iknow you would rather have something I have used. '"

"That was an honour well earned. " When Jan said that he noticedthat the old mistress drew her shawl closer together. He was surenow she was hiding something under it--maybe a present from GloryGoldie! "She'll get round to that in time, " he thought. "All thistalk about her father is only a makeshift. "

"I have often spoken of this to my children, " the old mistress wenton, "and also to Lars Gunnarson. Last spring, when Eric lay sick, Ithink both Lars and Anna expected that Lars would be called to thebedside, as Eric had once been called. I had brought him in thestick and cap so they'd be handy in case Eric wished to give themto Lars; but he had no such thought. "

The old mistress's voice shook as she said that, and when she spokeagain her tone sounded anxious and uncertain. 

"Once, when we were alone, I asked Eric what his wishes were, andhe said if I wanted to I could give the things to Lars when he wasgone as he had not the strength to make speeches. "

Whereupon the mistress of Falla threw back her big shawl, and thenJan saw that she held under it a long, silver-mounted ebony stickand a stiff, high-crowned leather cap. 

"Some words are too heavy for utterance, " she said with greatgravity. "Answer me with just a nod, Jan, if you will. Can I givethese to Lars Gunnarson?"

Jan drew back a step. This was a matter he had entirely dismissedfrom his mind. It seemed such a long time since Eric of Falla diedhe hardly remembered how it happened. 

"You understand, Jan, that all I want to know is whether Lars canaccept the stick and cap with the same right as Eric. You mustknow, as you were with him that time in the forest. It would bewell for me, " she added, as Jan did not speak, "if I could givethem to Lars. I believe there would be less friction afterwardbetween the young folks and me. "

Her voice failed her again, and Jan began to perceive why she hadaged so much the past few months; but now his mind was so taken upwith other things that he no longer cherished the old resentmentagainst his new employer. 

"It's best to forgive and forget, " he said. "It pays in the longrun. "

The old mistress caught her breath. "Then it is just as I thought!"she said, drawing herself up to her full height. "I'll not ask youto tell what took place. It's best for me not to know. But onething is certain, Lars Gunnarson shall never get his hands on myfather's stick!"

She had already turned to go, then suddenly faced about. "Here, Jan, " she said, holding out the things. "You may have the stick andcap, for I want them to be in good, honest hands. I daren't takethem home again lest I be forced to turn them over to Lars; so youkeep them as a memento of the old master, who always thought wellof you. "

Then she walked away, erect and proud, and there Jan stood holdingthe cap and stick. He hardly knew how it had come about. He hadnever expected to be so honoured. Were these heirlooms now to behis? Then in a moment, he found an explanation: Glory Goldie wasback of it all. The old mistress knew that he was soon to beelevated to a station so exalted that nothing would be too good forhim. Indeed, had the stick been of silver and the cap of gold theywould have been even more suitable for the father of Glory Goldie. 

CLOTHED IN SATIN

No letter had come from Glory Goldie to either her father ormother. But it mattered very little now that Jan knew she wassilent simply because she wished her parents to be all the moresurprised and happy when the time came for her to proclaim the goodtidings. 

But, in any case, it was a good thing for him that he had peepedinto her cards. Otherwise he might easily have been made a fool ofby persons who thought they knew more about Glory's doings than hedid. For instance, there was Katrina's experience at church thefirst Sunday in Advent. Katrina had been to service, and upon herreturn Jan had noticed that she was both alarmed and depressed. 

She had seen a couple of youths who were just back from Stockholmstanding on the church knoll talking with a group of young boys andgirls. Thinking they might be able to give her some news of GloryGoldie, she had gone up to them to make inquiries. 

The youths were evidently telling of some of their escapades, forall the men, at least, laughed uproariously. Katrina thought theirbehaviour very unseemly, considering they were on church ground. The men must have realized this themselves, for when she came upthey nudged one another and hushed. She had caught only a fewwords, spoken by a youth whose back was turned to her, and who hadnot seen her. 

"And to think that she was clothed in satin!" he said. 

Instantly a young girl gave him a push that silenced him, then, glancing round, he saw Katrina just behind him and his face wentred as blood; but immediately after he tossed his head, and said ina loud voice:

"What's the matter with you? Why can't I be allowed to say that thequeen was arrayed in satin?"

When he said that the young people laughed louder than ever. ThenKatrina went her way, unable to bring herself to question them. Andwhen she came home she was so unhappy that Jan was almost temptedto come out with the truth about Glory Goldie; but on secondthought, he asked her to tell him again what had been said aboutthe queen. 

Katrina did so, but added: "You understand of course that that wasonly said to sweeten the pill for me. "

Jan meanwhile kept mum. But he could not help smiling to himself. 

"What are you thinking about?" asked Katrina. "You have such aqueer look on your face these days. You don't know what they meant, do you?"

"I certainly don't, " answered Jan. "But we ought to have enoughconfidence in the little girl to think all is as it should be. "

"But I'm getting so anxious--"

"The time to speak, " Jan struck in, "has not come, either for themor me. Glory Goldie herself has probably requested them not to sayanything to us, So we must rest easy, Katrina, indeed we must. "

STARS

When the little girl had been gone nearly eight months, who shouldcome stalking into the barn at Falla one fine day, while Jan stoodthreshing there, but Mad Ingeborg!

Mad Ingeborg was first cousin to Jan. But as she was afraid ofKatrina he seldom saw her. It was to escape meeting Jan's wife thatshe had sought him out at Falla during his work hours. 

Jan was none too pleased to see Ingeborg! She was not exactlyinsane, but flighty--and a terrible chatterer. He went right onwith his work, taking no notice of her. 

"Stop your threshing, Jan!" she said, "so that I can tell you whatI dreamed about you last night. "

"You'd better come some other time, Ingeborg, " Jan suggested. "IfLars Gunnarson hears that I'm resting from my work he'll be sure tocome over to see what's up. "

"I'll be as quick as quick can be. If you remember, I was thebrightest child in our family, which doesn't give me much to bragabout, as the rest of you were a dull lot. "

"You were going to tell me about a dream, " Jan reminded her. 

"In a minute--a minute! You mustn't be afraid. I understand--understand: hard master now at Falla--hard master. But don't beuneasy, for you'll not be scolded on my account. There's no dangerof that when you're with a sensible person like me. "

Jan would have liked to hear what she dreamed about him, forconfident as he was of the ultimate realization of his greatexpectations, he nevertheless sought assurances from all quarters. But now Mad Ingeborg was wandering along her own thought-road andat such times it was not easy to stop her. She went very close toJan, then, bending over him, her eyes shut tight, her head shaking, the words came pouring out of her mouth. 

"Don't be so scared. Do you suppose I'd be standing here talking toyou while you're threshing at Falla if I didn't know the master hadgone up to the forest and the mistress was down at the villageselling butter. 'Always keep them in mind, ' says the catechism. Iknow enough for that and take good care not to come round when theycan see me. "

"Get out of the way, Ingeborg! Otherwise the flail might hit you. "

"Think how you boys used to beat me when we were children!" sherattled on. "Even now I have to take thrashings. But when it cameto catechism examinations, I could beat you all. 'No one can catchIngeborg napping, ' the dean used to say. 'She always knows herlessons. ' And I'm good friends with the little misses at LövdalaManor. I recite the catechism for them both questions and answers--from beginning to end. And what a memory I've got! I know the wholeBible by heart and the hymn book, too, and all the dean's sermons. Shall I recite something for you, or would you rather hear me sing?"

Jan said nothing whatever, but went to threshing again. Ingeborg, undaunted, seated herself on a sheaf of straw and struck up a chantof some twenty stanzas, then she repeated a couple of chapters fromthe Bible, whereupon she got up and went out. Jan thought she hadgone for good, but in a little while she reappeared in the doorwayof the barn. 

"Hold still!" she whispered. "Hold still! Now we'll say nothing butwhat we were going to say. Only be still--still!"

Then up went her forefinger. Now she held her body rigid and hereyes open. "No other thoughts, no other thoughts!" she said. "We'llkeep to the subject. Only hush your pounding!"

She waited till Jan minded her. 

"You came to me last night in a dream--yes, that was it. You cameto me and I says to you like this: 'Are you out for a walk, Jan ofthe Ashdales?' 'Yes, ' says you, 'but now I'm Jan of the Vale ofLongings. ' 'Then, well met, ' says I. 'There's where I have livedall my life. '"

Whereupon she disappeared again, and Jan, startled by her strangewords, did not immediately resume his work, but stood pondering. Ina moment or two she was there again. 

"I remember now what brought me here, " she told him. "I wanted toshow you my stars. "

On her arm was a small covered basket bound with cord, and whileshe tugged and pulled at a knot, to loosen it, she chattered like amagpie. 

"They are real stars, these. When one lives in the Vale of Longingsone isn't satisfied with the things of earth; then one is compelledto go out and look for stars. There is no other choice. Now you, too, will have to go in search of them. "

"No, no, Ingeborg!" returned Jan. "I'll confine my search to whatis to be found on this earth. "

"For goodness sake hush!" cried the woman. "You don't suppose I'msuch a fool as to go ahunting for those which remain in theheavens, do you? I only seek the kind that have fallen. I've gotsome sense, I guess!"

She opened her basket which was filled with a variety of stars shehad evidently picked up at the manors. There were tin stars andglass stars and paper stars--ornaments from Christmas trees andconfectionery. 

"They are real stars fallen from the sky, " she declared. "You arethe only person I've shown them to. I'll let you have a couplewhenever you need them. "

"Thanks, Ingeborg, " said Jan. "When the time comes that I shallhave need of stars--which may be right soon--I don't think I'll askyou for them. "

Then at last Mad Ingeborg left. 

It was some little time, however, before Jan went back to histhreshing. To him this, too, was a finger-pointing. Not that acrack-brained person like Ingeborg could know anything of GloryGoldie's movements; but she was one of the kind who sensed it inthe air when something extraordinary was going to happen. She couldsee and hear things of which wise folk never had an inkling. 

WAITING

Engineer Boraeus of Borg was in the habit of strolling down to thepier mornings to meet the steamer. He had only a short distance togo, through his beautiful pine grove, and there was always some oneon the boat with whom he could exchange a few words to vary themonotony of country life. 

At the end of the grove, where the road began an abrupt descent tothe pier, were some large bare rocks upon which folk who had comefrom a distance used to sit while waiting for the boat. And therewere always many who waited at the Borg pier, as there was neverany certainty as to when the boat would arrive. It seldom put inbefore twelve o'clock, and yet once in a while it reached the pieras early as eleven. Sometimes it did not come until one or two; sothat prompt people, who were down at the landing by ten o'clock, often had to sit there for hours. 

Engineer Boraeus had a good outlook over Lake Löven from hischamber window at Borg. He could see when the steamer rounded thepoint and never appeared at the landing until just in the nick oftime. Therefore he did not have to sit on the rocks and wait, andwould only cast a glance, in passing, at those who were seatedthere. However, one summer, he noticed a meek-looking little manwith a kindly face sitting there waiting day after day. The manalways sat quite still, seemingly indifferent, until the boat hovein sight. Then he would jump to his feet, his face shining withjoyous anticipation, and rush down the incline to the far end ofthe pier, where he would stand as if about to welcome some one. Butnobody ever came for him. And when the boat pulled out he was asalone as before. Then, as he turned to go home, the light ofhappiness gone from his face, he looked old and worn; he seemedhardly able to drag himself up the hill. 

Engineer Boreaus was not acquainted with the man. But one day whenhe again saw him sitting there gazing out upon the lake, he went upand spoke to him. He soon learned that the man's daughter, who hadbeen away for a time, was expected home that day. 

"Are you quite certain she is coming to-day?" said the engineer. "I've seen you sitting here waiting ever day for the past twomonths. In that case she must have sent you wrong instructionsbefore. "

"Oh, no, " replied the man quietly, "indeed she hasn't given me anywrong instructions!"

"Then what in the name of God do you mean?" demanded the engineergruffly, for he was a choleric man. "You've sat here and waited dayafter day without her coming, yet you say she has not given youwrong instructions. "

"No, " answered the meek little man, looking up at the engineer withhis mild, limpid eyes, "she couldn't have, as she has not sent anyinstructions. "

"Hasn't she written to you?"

"No; we've had no letter from her since the first day of lastOctober. "

"Then why do you idle away your mornings down here?" asked theengineer, wonderingly. "Can you afford to leave off working likethis?"

"No, " replied the man, smiling to himself. "I suppose it's wrongin me to do so; but all that will soon be made good. "

"Is it possible that you're such a stupid ass as to hang round herewhen there's no occasion for it?" roared the engineer, furiously. "You ought to be shut up in a madhouse. "

The man said nothing. He sat with his hands clasped round hisknees, quite unperturbed. A smile played about his mouth all thewhile, and every second he seemed more and more confident of hisultimate triumph. 

The engineer shrugged his shoulders and walked away, but before hewas halfway down the hill he repented his harshness, and turnedback. The stern forbidding look which his strong featureshabitually wore was now gone and he put out his hand to the man. 

"I want to shake hands with you, " he said. "Until now I had alwaysthought that I was the only one in this parish who knew what it wasto yearn; but now I see that I have found my master. "

THE EMPRESS

The little girl of Ruffluck had been away fully thirteen months, yet Jan had not betrayed by so much as a word that he had anyknowledge of the great thing that had come to her. He had vowedto himself never to speak of this until Glory Goldie's return. Ifthe little girl did not discover that he knew about her grandeur, her pleasure in overwhelming him would be all the greater. 

But in this world of ours it is the unexpected that happens mostly. There came a day when Jan was forced to unseal his lips and tellwhat he knew. Not on his own account. Indeed not! For he would havebeen quite content to go about in his shabby clothes and let folksthink him nothing but a poor crofter to the end of his days. It wasfor the little girl's own sake that he felt compelled to reveal thegreat secret. 

It happened one day, early in August, when he had gone down to thepier to watch for her. For you see, going down to meet the boatevery day that he might see her come ashore, was a pleasure he hadbeen unable to deny himself. The boat had just put in and he hadseen that Glory Goldie was not on board. He had supposed that shewould be finished with everything now and could leave for home. Butsome new hindrance must have arisen to detain her, as had been thecase all summer. It was not easy for one who had so many demandsupon her time to get away. 

Anyhow it was a great pity she did not come to-day, thought Jan, when there were so many of her old acquaintances at the pier. Therestood both Senator Carl Carlson and August Där Nol. BjörnHindrickson's son-in-law was also on hand, and even AgrippaPrästberg had turned out. 

Agrippa had nursed a grievance against the little girl since theday she fooled him about the spectacles. Jan had to admit tohimself that it would have been a great triumph for him had GloryGoldie stood on the boat that day in all her pomp and splendour, sothat Prästberg could have seen her. However, since she had notcome, there was nothing for him but to go back home. As he wasabout to leave the pier cantankerous old Agrippa barred his way. 

"Well, well!" said Agrippa. "So you're running down here after thatdaughter of yours to-day, too?"

Jan knowing it was best not to bandy words with a man like Agrippa, simply stepped to one side, so as to get by him. 

"I declare I don't wonder at your wanting to meet such a fine ladyas she has turned out to be!" said Agrippa with a leer. 

Just then August Där Nol rushed up and seized Agrippa by the arm, to silence him. But Agrippa was not to be silenced. 

"The whole parish knows of it, " he shouted, "so it's high time herparents were told of her doings! Jan Anderson is a decent fellow, even if he did spoil that girl of his, and I can't bear to see himsit here day after day, week in and week out, waiting for a--"

He called the little girl of Ruffluck such a bad name that Janwould not repeat it even in his thoughts. But now that Agrippa hadflung that ugly word at him in a loud voice, so that every one onthe pier heard what he said, all that Jan had kept locked withinhim for a whole year burst its bonds. He could no longer keep ithidden. The little girl must forgive him for betraying her secret. He said what he had to say without the least show of anger orboastfulness. With a sweep of his hand and a lofty smile, as ifhardly deigning to answer, he said:

"When the Empress comes--"

"The Empress!" grinned Agrippa. "Who might that be?" Just as if hehad not heard about the little girl's elevation. 

Jan of Ruffluck, unperturbed, continued in the same calm, even toneof voice:

"When the Empress Glory of Portugallia stands on the pier, with acrown of gold upon her head, and with seven kings behind herholding up her royal mantle, and seven tame lions crouched at herfeet, and seven and seventy generals, with drawn swords, goingbefore her, then we shall see, Prästberg, whether you dare say toherself what you've just said to me!"

When he had finished speaking he stood still a moment, noting withsatisfaction how terrified they looked, all of them; then, turningon his heel, he walked away, but without hurry or flurry, of course. 

The instant his back was turned there was a terrible commotion onthe pier. At first he paid no attention to it, but presently, onhearing a heavy thud, he had to look back. Then he saw Agrippalying flat on his face and August Där Nol bending over him withclenched fists. 

"You cur!" cried August. "You knew well enough that he couldn'tstand hearing the truth. You can't have any heart in your body!"

This much Jan heard, but as anything in the way of fighting orquarrelling was contrary to his nature, he went on up the hill, without mixing in the fray. 

But strangely enough, when he was out of every one's sight anuncontrollable spell of weeping came over him. He did not know whyhe wept, but probably his tears were of joy at having cleared upthe mystery. He felt now as if his little girl had come back to him. 

THE EMPEROR

The first Sunday in September the worshippers at Svartsjö churchhad a surprise in store for them. 

There was a wide gallery in the church extending clear across thenave. The first row of pews in this gallery had always beenoccupied by the gentry--the gentlemen on the right side and theladies on the left--as far back as can be remembered. All the seatsin the church were free, so that other folk were not debarred fromsitting there, if they so wished; but of course it would never haveoccurred to any poor cotter to ensconce himself in that row ofpews. 

In the old days Jan had thought the occupants of this particularbench a delight to the eye. Even now he was willing to concede thatthe superintendent from Doveness, the lieutenant from Lövdala, andthe engineer from Borg were fine men who made a good appearance. But they were as nothing to the grandeur which folks beheld thatday. For anything like a real emperor had never before been seen inthe gentry's bench. 

But now there sat at the head of this bench just such a greatpersonage, his hands resting on a long silver-mounted stick, hishead crowned with a high, green leather cap, while on his waistcoatglittered two large stars, one like gold, the other like silver. 

When the organ began to play the processional hymn the Emperorlifted up his voice in song. For an emperor is obliged to sing out, loud and clear, when at church, even if he cannot follow the melodyor sing in tune. Folks are glad to hear him in any case. 

The gentlemen at his left now and then turned and stared at him. Who could wonder at that? It was probably the first time they hadhad so exalted a personage among them. 

He had to remove his hat, of course, for that is something whicheven an emperor must do when attending divine service; but he keptit on as long as possible, that all might feast their eyes on it. 

And many of the worshippers who sat in the body of the church hadtheir eyes turned up toward the gallery that Sunday. Their thoughtsseemed to be on him more than on the sermon. They were perhaps alittle surprised that he had become so exalted. But surely theycould understand that one who was father to an empress must himselfbe an emperor. Anything else was impossible. 

When he came out on the pine knoll at the close of the service manypersons went up to him; but before he had time to speak to a soulSexton Blackie stepped up and asked him to come along into thevestry. 

The pastor was seated in the vestry, his back turned toward thedoor, talking with Senator Carl Carlson, when Jan and the sextonentered. He seemed to be distressed about something, for there weretears in his voice. 

"These were two souls entrusted to my keeping whom I have allowedto go to ruin, " he said. 

The senator tried to console him, saying: "You can't beresponsible, Pastor, for the evil that goes on in the large cities. "

But the clergyman would not be consoled. He covered his beautifulyoung face with his hands, and wept. 

"No, " he sobbed, "I suppose I can't. But what have I done to guardthe young girl who was thrown on the world, unprotected? And whathave I done to comfort her old father who had only her to live for?"

"The pastor is practically a newcomer in the parish, " said thesenator, "so that if there is any question of responsibility itfalls more heavily upon the rest of us, who were acquainted withthe circumstances. But who could think it was to end sodisastrously? Young folk have to make their own way in life. We'veall been thrust out in much the same way, yet most of us have faredrather well. "

"O God of mercy!" prayed the pastor, "grant me the wisdom to speakto the unhappy father. Would I might stay his fleeing wits--!"

Sexton Blackie, standing there with Jan, now cleared his throat. The pastor rose at once, went up to Jan, and took him by the hand. 

"My dear Jan!" he said feelingly. The pastor was tall and fair andhandsome. When he came up to you, with his kindly blue eyes beamingbenevolence, and spoke to you in his deep sympathetic voice, it wasnot easy to resist him. In this instance, however, the only thingto do was to set him right at the start, which Jan did of course. 

"Jan is no more, my good Pastor, " he said. "Now we are EmperorJohannes of Portugallia, and he who does not wish to address us byour proper title, him we have nothing to say to. "

With that, Jan gave the pastor a stiff' imperial nod of dismissal, and put on his cap. They looked rather foolish, did the three menwho stood in the vestry, when Jan pushed open the door and walkedout. 

BOOK THREE

THE EMPEROR'S SONG

In the wooded heights above Loby there was still a short stretch ofan old country road where in bygone days all teams had to pass, butwhich was now condemned because it led up and down the worst hillsand rocky slopes instead of having the sense to go round them. Thepart that remained was so steep that no one in driving made use ofit any more though foot-farers climbed it occasionally, as it was agood short cut. 

The road ran as broad as any of the regular crown highways, and wasstill covered with fine yellow gravel. In fact, it was smoother nowthan formerly, being free from wheel tracks, and mud, and dust. Along the edge bloomed roadside flowers and shrubs; dogwood, bittervetch, and buttercups grew there in profusion even to thisday, but the ditches were filled in and a whole row of spruce treeshad sprung up in them. Young evergreens of uniform height, withbranches from the root up, stood pressing against each other asclosely as the foliage of a boxwood hedge; their needles were notdry and hard, but moist and soft, and their tips were all brightwith fresh green shoots. The trees sang and played like hummingbees on a fine summer day, when the sun beams down upon them from aclear sky. 

When Jan of Ruffluck walked home from church the Sunday he hadappeared there for the first time in his royal regalia, he turnedin on the old forest road. It was a warm sunny day and, as he wentup the hill, he heard the music of the spruces so plainly that itastonished him. 

Never had spruce trees sung like that! It struck him that he oughtto find out why they were so loud-voiced just to-day. And being inno special haste to reach home, he dropped down in the middle ofthe smooth gravel road, in the shade of the singing tree. Layinghis stick on the ground, he removed his cap and mopped his brow, then he sat motionless, with hands clasped, and listened. 

The air was quite still, therefore it could hardly have been thewind that had set all these little musical instruments into motion. It was almost as if the spruces played for very joy at being soyoung and fresh; at being let stand in peace by the abandonedroadside, with the promise of many years of life ahead of thembefore any human being would come and cut them down. 

But if such was the case, it did not explain why the trees sangwith such gusto just that day; they could rejoice over thoseparticular blessings any pleasant summer day; they did not call forany extra music. 

Jan sat still in the middle of the road, listening with raptattention. It was pleasant hearing the hum of the spruce, though itwas all on one note, with no rests, so that there was neithermelody nor rhythm about it. 

He found it so refreshing and delightful up here on the heights. Nowonder the trees felt happy, he mused. The wonder was they sang andplayed no better than they did. He looked up at their small twigson which every needle was fine and well made, and in its properplace, and drank in the piney odour that came from them. There wasno flower of the meadow, no blossom of the grove so fragrant! Henoted their half-grown cones on which the scales were compactlymassed for the protection of the seed. 

These trees, which seemed to understand so well what to do forthemselves, ought to be able to sing and play so that one couldcomprehend what they meant. Yet they kept harping all the while onthe same strain. He grew drowsy listening to them, and stretchedhimself flat on the smooth, fine gravel to take a little nap. 

But hark! What was this? The instant his head touched the groundand his eyes closed, the trees struck up something new. Ah, nowthere came rhythm and melody!

Then all that other was only a prelude, such as is played at churchbefore the hymn. 

This was what he had felt the whole time, though he had not wantedto say it even in his mind. The trees also knew what had happened. It was on his account they tuned up so loudly the instant heappeared. And now they sang of him--there was no mistaking it now, when they thought him asleep. Perhaps they did not wish him to hearhow much they were making of him. 

And what a song, what a song! He lay all the while with his eyesshut, but could hear the better for that. Not a sound was lost tohim. 

Ah, this was music! It was not just the young trees at the edge ofthe road that made music now, but the whole forest. There wereorgans and drums and trumpets; there were little thrush flutes andbullfinch pipes; there were gurgling brooks and singing water-sprites, tinkling bluebells and thrumming woodpeckers. 

Never had he heard anything so beautiful, nor listened to music injust this way. It rang in his ear; so that he could never forgetit. 

When the song was finished and the forest grew silent, he sprang tohis feet as if startled from a dream. Immediately he began to singthis hymn of the woods so as to fix it forever in his memory. 

 The Empress's father, for his part, Feels so happy in his heart. 

Then came the refrain, which he had not been able to catch word forword, but anyhow he sang it about as it had sounded to him:

 Austria, Portugal, Metz, Japan, Read the newspapers, if you can. Boom, boom, boom, and roll. Boom, boom. 

 No gun be his but a sword of gold; Now a crown for a cap on his head behold! Austria, Portugal, Metz, Japan, Read the newspapers, if you can. Boom, boom, boom, and roll. Boom, boom. 

 Golden apples are his meat, No more of turnips shall he eat. Austria, Portugal, Metz, Japan, Read the newspapers, if you can. Boom, boom, boom, and roll. Boom, boom. 

 Court ladies clothed in bright array Bow as he passes on his way. Austria, Portugal, Metz, Japan, Read the newspapers, if you can. Boom, boom, boom, and roll. Boom, boom. 

 When he the forest proudly treads, All the tree-tops nod their heads. Austria, Portugal, Metz, Japan, Read the newspapers, if you can. Boom, boom, boom, and roll. Boom, boom. 

It was just this "boom, boom" that had sounded best of all to him. With every boom he struck the ground hard with his stick and madehis voice as deep and strong as he could. He sang the song over andover again, till the forest fairly rang with it. 

But then the way in which it had been composed was so out of thecommon! And the fact that this was the first and only time in hislife he had been able to catch and carry a tune was in itself aproof of its merit. 

THE SEVENTEENTH OF AUGUST

The first time Jan of Ruffluck had gone to Lövdala on a seventeenthof August the visit had not passed off as creditably for him as hecould have wished; so he had never repeated it, although he hadbeen told that each year it was becoming more lively and festive atthe Manor. 

But now that the little girl had come up in the world, it wasaltogether different with him. He felt that it would be a greatdisappointment to Lieutenant Liljecrona if so exalted a personageas the Emperor Johannes of Portugallia did not do him the honour ofwishing him happiness on his birthday. 

So he donned his imperial regalia and sallied forth, taking goodcare not to be among the first arrivals. For him who was an emperorit was the correct thing not to put in an appearance until all theguests had made themselves quite at home, and the festivities werewell under way. 

Upon the occasion of his former visit he had not ventured fartherthan the orchard and the gravelled walk in front of the house. Hehad not even gone up to pay his respects to the host. But now hecould not think of behaving so discourteously. 

This time he made straight for the big bower at the left of theporch, where the lieutenant sat with a group of dignitaries fromSvartsjö and elsewhere, grasped him by the hand, and wished himmany happy returns of the day. 

"So you've come out to-day, Jan, " said the lieutenant in a tone ofsurprise. 

To be sure he was not expecting an honour like this, which probablyaccounted for his so far forgetting himself as to address theEmperor by his old name. Jan knew that so genial a man as thelieutenant could have meant no offense by that, therefore hecorrected him in all meekness. 

"We must make allowances for the lieutenant, " he said, "since thisis his birthday; but by rights we should be called Emperor Johannesof Portugallia. "

Jan spoke in the gentlest tone possible, but just the same theother gentlemen all laughed at the lieutenant for having made sucha bad break. Jan had never intended to cause him humiliation on hisbirthday, so he promptly dismissed the matter and turned to theothers. Raising his cap with an imperial flourish, he said:

"Go'-day, go'-day, my worthy Generals and Bishops and Governors. "It was his intention to go around and shake hands with everybody, as one is expected to do at a party. 

Nearest the lieutenant sat a short, stocky man in a white clothjacket, with a gold-trimmed collar, and a sword at his side, who, when Jan stepped up to greet him did not offer his whole hand, butmerely held out two fingers. The man's intentions may have been allright, but of course a potentate like Emperor Johannes ofPortugallia knew he must stand upon his dignity. 

"I think you will have to give me your whole hand, my good Bishopand Governor, " he said very pleasantly, for he did not want todisturb the harmony on this great day. 

Then, mind you, the man turned up his nose!

"I have just heard it was not to your liking that Liljecrona calledyou by name, " he observed, "and I wonder how you can have theaudacity to say _du_ [Note: Du like the French "tu" is used only inaddressing intimates. ] to me!" Then, pointing to three poor littleyellow stars that were attached to his coat, he roared: "Seethese?"

When remarks of this kind were flung at him, the Emperor Johannesthought it high time to lay off his humility. He quickly flippedback his coat, exhibiting a waistcoat covered with large showy"medals" of "silver" and "gold. " He usually kept his coat buttonedover these decorations as they were easily tarnished, and crushable. Besides, he knew that people always felt so ill at ease when in thepresence of exalted personages and he had no desire to add to theirembarrassment by parading his grandeur when there was no occasionfor it. Now, however, it had to be done. 

"Look here, you!" he said. "This is what you ought to show if youwant to brag. Three paltry little stars--pooh! that's nothing!"

Then you had better believe the man showed proper respect! The factthat all who knew about the Empress and the Empire were laughingthemselves sick at the Major General must have had its effect, also. 

"By cracky!" he ejaculated, rising to his feet and bowing. "If itisn't a real monarch that I have before me! Your Majesty even knowshow to respond to a speech. "

"That's easy when you know how to meet people, " retorted the other. After that no gentleman in the party was so glad to be allowed totalk to the ruler of Portugallia as was this very man, who had beenso high and mighty at first that he would not present more than twofingers, when an emperor had offered him his whole hand. 

It need hardly be said that none of the others seated in the bowerrefused to accord the Emperor a fitting greeting. Now that thefirst feeling of surprise and embarrassment had passed and the menwere beginning to perceive that he was not a difficult person toget on with, emperor though he was, they were as eager as was everyone else to hear all about the little girl's rise to royal honoursand her prospective return to her home parish. At last he was on sofriendly a footing with them all that he even consented to sing forthem the song he had learned in the forest. 

This was perhaps too great a condescension on his part, but sincethey were all so glad for every word he uttered he could not denythem the pleasure of hearing him sing, also. 

And when he raised his voice in song imagine the consternation!Then his audience was not confined to the group of elderlygentlemen in the bower, For immediately the old countesses and theold wives of the old generals who had been sitting on the big sofain the drawing room, sipping tea and eating bonbons, and the youngbarons and young Court ladies who had been dancing in the ballroom, all came rushing out to hear him and all eyes were fixed on him, which was quite the proper thing, as he was an emperor. 

The like of that song they had never heard, of course, and as soonas he had sung it through they wanted him to sing it again. Hehesitated a good while--for one must never be too obliging in suchmatters--but they would not be satisfied until he had yielded totheir importunities. And this time, when he came to the refrain, they all joined in, and when he got to the "boom, boom" the youngbarons beat time with their feet and the young Court ladies clappedtheir hands to the measure of the tune. 

But that was a wonderful lay! As he sang it again and again, withso many smartly dressed people chiming in; so many pretty youngladies darting him glances of approval; so many young swainsshouting _bravo_ after every verse, he felt as dizzy as if he hadbeen dancing. It was as if some one had taken him in their arms andlifted him into the air. 

He did not lose his head, though, but knew all the while that hisfeet were still on the earth. Meantime, he had the pleasantsensation of being elevated far above every one. On the one hand, he was being borne up by the honour, on the other by the glory. They bore him away on strong wings and placed him upon an imperialthrone, far, far away amongst the rosy evening clouds. 

There was but one thing wanting. Think, if the great Empress, hislittle Glory Goldie, had only been there, too!

Instantly this thought flashed upon him, a red shimmer passedbefore his eyes. Gazing at it more intently, he saw that itemanated from a young girl in a red frock who had just come outfrom the house, and was then standing on the porch. 

The young girl was tall and graceful and had a wealth of goldyellow hair. From where he stood he could not see her face, but hethought she could be none other than Glory Goldie. Then he knew whyhe had been so blissfully happy that evening; it was just aforetoken of the little girl's nearness. Breaking off in the middleof his song and pushing aside all who stood in his way, he rantoward the house. 

When he reached the steps he was obliged to halt. His heart thumpedso violently it seemed ready to burst. But gradually he recoveredjust enough strength to be able to proceed. Very slowly he mountedstep by step till at last he was on the porch. Then, spreading outhis arms, he whispered:

"Glory Goldie!"

Instantly the young girl turned round. It was not Glory Goldie! Astrange woman stood there, staring at him in astonishment. 

Not a word could he utter, but tears sprang to his eyes; he couldnot hold them back. Now he faced about and staggered down thesteps. Turning his back upon all the merriment and splendour, hewent on up the driveway. 

The people kept calling for him. They wanted him to come back andsing to them again. But he heard them not. As fast as he could gohe hurried toward the woods, where he could be alone with his grief. 

KATRINA AND JAN

Jan of Ruffluck had never had so many things to think about andponder over as now, that he had become an emperor. 

In the first place he had to be very guarded, since greatness hadbeen thrust upon him, so as not to let pride get the upper hand. Hemust bear in mind continually that we humans were all made from thesame material and had sprung from the same First Parents; that wewere all of us weak and sinful and at bottom one person was nobetter than another. 

All his life long he had observed, to his dismay, how people triedto lord it over one another, and of course he had no desire to dolikewise. He found, however, that it was not an easy matter for onewho had become exalted to maintain a proper humility. His greatestconcern was that he might perhaps say or do something that wouldcause his old friends, who were still obliged to pursue theirhumble callings, to feel themselves slighted and forgotten. Therefore he deemed it best when attending such functions asdinners and parties--which duty demanded of him--never to mentionin the hearing of these people the great distinction that had cometo him. He could not blame them for envying him. Indeed not! Justthe same he felt it was wisest not to make them draw comparisons. 

And of course he could not ask men like Börje and the seine-makerto address him as Emperor. Such old friends could call him Jan, asthey had always done; for they could never bring themselves to dootherwise. 

But the one whom he had to consider before all others and be mostguarded with was the old wife, who sat at home in the hut. It wouldhave been a great consolation to him, and a joy as well, ifgreatness had come to her also. But it had not. She was the same asof yore. Anything else was hardly to be expected. Glory Goldie musthave known it would be quite impossible to make an empress ofKatrina. One could not imagine the old woman pinning a goldencoronet on her hair when going to church; she would have stayed athome rather than show her face framed in anything but the usualblack silk headshawl. 

Katrina had declared out and out she did not want to hear aboutGlory Goldie being an empress. On the whole it was perhaps best tohumour her in this. 

But one can understand it must have been hard for him who spent hismornings at the pier, surrounded by admiring throngs of people, whoat every turn addressed him as "Emperor, " to drop his royal air themoment he set foot in his own house. It cannot be denied that hefound it a bit irksome having to fetch wood and water for Katrinaand then to be spoken to as if he had gone backward in life insteadof forward. 

If Katrina had only stopped at that he would not have minded it, but she even complained because he would not go out to work now, asin former days. When she came with such things he always turned adeaf ear. As if he did not know that the Empress of Portugalliawould soon send him so much money that he need never again put onhis working clothes! He felt it would be an insult to _her_ to givein to Katrina on this point. 

One afternoon, toward the end of August, as Jan was sitting uponthe flat stone in front of the hut, smoking his pipe, he glimpsedsome bright frocks in the woods close by, and heard the ring ofyouthful voices. 

Katrina had just gone down to the birch grove to cut twigs for abroom: but before leaving she had said to Jan that hereafter theymust arrange their matters so that she could go down to Falla anddig ditches; he might stay at home and do the cooking and mending, since he was too fine now to work for others. He had not said aword in retort, but all the same it was mighty unpleasant having tolisten to such talk; therefore he was very glad that he could turnhis thoughts to something else. Instantly he ran inside for hisimperial cap and stick, and was out again and down at the gate justas the young girls came along. 

There were no less than five of them in the party, the three youngmisses from Lövdala and two strangers, who were evidently guests atthe Manor. 

"Go'-day, my dear Court ladies, " said Jan as he swung the gate wideopen and went out toward them. "Go'-day, my dear Court ladies, " herepeated, at the same time making such a big sweep with his capthat it almost touched the ground. 

The girls stood stockstill. They looked a bit shy at first, but hesoon helped them over their momentary embarrassment. 

Then it was "good-day" and "our kind Emperor. " It was plain theywere really glad to see him again. These little misses were notlike Katrina and the rest of the Ashdales folk. They were not atall averse to hearing about the Empress and immediately asked himif Her Highness was well and if she was not expected home soon. 

They also asked if they might be allowed to step into the hut, tosee how it looked inside. That he could well afford to let them do, for Katrina always kept the house so clean and tidy that they couldreceive callers there at any time. 

When the young misses from the Manor came into the house they wereno doubt surprised that the great Empress had grown up in a littleplace like that. It may have done very well in the old days, whenshe was used to it, they said, but how would it be now should shecome back? Would she reside here, with her parents, or return toPortugallia?

Jan had thought the selfsame things himself, and he understood ofcourse that Glory Goldie could not settle down in the Ashdales whenshe had a whole kingdom to rule over. 

"The chances are that the Empress will return to Portugallia, " hereplied. 

"Then you will accompany her, I suppose?" said one of the littlemisses. 

Jan would rather the young lady had not questioned him regardingthat matter. Nor did he give her any reply at first, but she waspersistent. 

"Possibly you don't know as yet how it will be?" she said. 

Oh, yes, he knew all about it, only he was not quite sure howpeople would regard his decision. Perhaps they might think it wasnot the correct thing for an emperor to do. "I shall remain athome, " he told her. "It would never do for me to leave Katrina. "

"So Katrina is not going to Portugallia?"

"No, " he answered. "You couldn't get Katrina away from the hut, andI shall stay right here with her. You see when one has promised tolove and cherish till death--"

"Yes, I understand that one can't break that vow. " This was said bythe young girl who seemed most eager to know about everything. "Doyou hear that, all of you?" she added. "Jan won't leave his wifethough all the glories of Portugallia are tempting him. "

And think of it! The girls were very glad of this. They patted himon the back and told him he did right. That was a favourable sign, they said, for it showed that all was not over yet with good oldJan Anderson of Ruffluck Croft. 

He could not make out just what they meant by that; but probablythey were happy to think the parish was not going to lose him. 

They bade him good-bye now, saying they were going over to Dovenessto a garden party. 

They had barely gone when Katrina walked in. She must have beenstanding outside the door listening. But how long she had stoodthere or how much she had heard, Jan did not know. Anyway, shelooked more amiable and serene than she had appeared in a longwhile. 

"You're an old simpleton, " she told him. "I wonder what other womenwould say if they had a husband like you? But still it's a comfortto know that you don't want to go away from me. "

BJÖRN HINDRICKSON'S FUNERAL

Jan Anderson of Ruffluck was not invited to the funeral of BjörnHindrickson of Loby. 

But he understood, of course, that the family of the departed hadnot been quite certain that he would care to claim kinship withthem now that he had risen to such glory and honour; possibly theyfeared it might upset their arrangements if so exalted a personageas Johannes of Portugallia were to attend the funeral. 

The immediate relatives of the late Björn Hindrickson naturallywished to ride in the first carriage, where by rights place shouldhave been made for him who was an emperor. They knew, to be sure, that he was not over particular about the things which seem tocount for so much with most folks. It would never have occurred tohim to stand in the way of those who like to sit in the place ofhonour at special functions. Therefore, rather than cause any illfeeling, he remained away from the house of mourning during theearly forenoon, before the funeral procession had started, and wentdirect to the church. Not until the bells had begun tolling and thelong procession had broken up on church ground did he take hisplace among his relatives. 

When they saw Jan there they all looked a little astonished; butnow he was so accustomed to seeing folks surprised at hiscondescension that he took it as a matter of course. No doubt theywould have liked to place him at the head of the line, but then itwas too late to do so, as they were already moving toward thechurchyard. 

After the burial service, when he accompanied the funeral party tothe church and seated himself on the mourners' bench, they appearedto be slightly embarrassed. However, there was no time to commentupon his having placed himself among them instead of occupying hisusual high seat, in the gentry's gallery--as the opening hymn hadjust begun. 

At the close of the service, when the conveyances belonging to thefuneral party drove up onto the knoll, Jan went out and climbedinto the hearse, where he sat down upon the dais on which thecoffin rested on the drive to the churchyard. As the big wagonwould now be going back empty, he knew that here he would not betaking up some other person's place. The daughter and son-in-law ofthe late Björn Hindrickson walked back and forth at the side of thehearse and looked at him. They regretted no doubt that they couldnot ask him to ride in one of the first carriages. Nor did he wishto incommode any one. He was what he was in any case. 

During the drive to Loby he could not help thinking of the timewhen he and Glory Goldie had called upon their rich relatives. Thistime, however, it was all so different! Who was great and respectednow? and who was conferring an honour upon his kinsfolk by seekingthem out?

As the carriages drew up in turn before the house of mourning, theoccupants stepped out and were conducted into the large waiting-roomon the ground floor where they removed their wraps. Two neighboursof the Hindricksons, who acted as host and hostess, then invitedthe more prominent persons among the guests to step upstairs, wheredinner was served. 

It was a difficult task having to single out those who were to sitat the first table. For at so large a funeral gathering it wasimpossible to make room for all the guests at one sitting. Thetable had to be cleared and set three or four times. 

Some people would have regarded it as an inexcusable oversight hadthey not been asked to sit at the first table. As for him who hadrisen to the exalted station of Emperor, he could be exceedinglyobliging in many ways, but to be allowed to sit at the first tablewas a right which he must not forgo; otherwise folks might think hedid not know it was his prerogative to come before all others. Itdid not matter so much his not being among the very first to berequested to step upstairs. It was self-evident that he should dinewith the pastor and the gentry; so he felt no uneasiness on thatscore. 

He sat all by himself on a corner bench, quite silent. Here nobodycame up to chat with him about the Empress, and he seemed a bitdejected. When he left home Katrina had begged him not to come tothis funeral, because the folks at this farm were of too good stockto cringe to either kings or emperors. It looked now as if she wereright about it. For old peasants who have lived on the same farmfrom time immemorial consider themselves the superiors of thetitled aristocracy. 

It was a slow proceeding bringing together those who were to be atthe first table. The host and hostess moved about a long whileseeking the highest worthies, but somehow they failed to come up tohim. 

Not far from the Emperor sat a couple of old spinsters, chatting, who had not the least expectation of being called up then. Theywere speaking of Linnart, son of the late Björn Hindrickson, sayingit was well that he had come home in time for a reconciliation withhis father. 

Not that there had been any actual enmity between father and son, but it happened that some thirty years earlier, when the son wastwo and twenty and wanted to marry, he had asked the old man to lethim take over the management of the farm, so that he could be hisown master. This Björn had flatly refused to do. He wanted the sonto stay at home and go on working under him and then to take overthe property when the old man was no more. "No, " was the son'sanswer. "I'll not stay at home and be your servant even though youare my father. I prefer to go out in the world and make a home formyself, for I must be as good a man as you are, or the feeling ofcomradeship between us will soon end. " "That can end at any time, if you choose to go your own ways, " Björn Hindrickson told him. Then the son had gone up into the wilderness northeast of DoveLake, and had settled in the wildest and least populated region, where he broke ground for a farm of his own. His land lay in Broparish, and he was never again seen in Svartsjö. Not in thirtyyears had his parents laid eyes on him. But a week ago, when oldBjörn was nearing the end, he had come home. 

This was good news to Jan of Ruffluck. The Sunday before, whenKatrina got back from church and told him that Björn was dying, heimmediately asked whether the son had been sent for. But it seemshe had not. Katrina had heard that Björn's wife had begged andimplored the old man to let her send for their son and that hewould not hear of it. He wanted to die in peace, he said. 

But Jan was not satisfied to let the matter rest there. The thoughtof Linnart away out in the wilds, knowing nothing of his father'sgrave condition had caused him to disregard old Björn's wishes andgo tell the son himself. He had heard nothing as to the outcomeuntil now, and he was so interested in what the two old spinsterswere saying, that he quite forgot to think about either the firstor the second table. 

When the son returned he and the father were as nice as could be toeach other. The old man laughed at the son's attire. "So you'vecome in your working clothes, " he said. "I suppose I should havedressed up, since it's Sunday, " Linnart replied. "But we've had somuch rain up our way this summer and I had thought of hauling insome oats to-day. " "Did you manage to get in any?" the old manasked him. "I got one wagon loaded, but that I left standing in thefield when word came that you were sick. I hurried away at once, without stopping to change my clothes. " "Who told you about it?"the father inquired. "Some man I've never seen before, " replied theson. "It didn't occur to me to ask him who he was. He looked like alittle old beggarman. " "You must find that man and thank him fromme, " old Björn then said. "Him you must honour wherever you meethim. He has meant well by us. " The father and son were so happyover their reconciliation that it was as if death had brought themjoy instead of grief. 

Jan winced when he heard that Linnart Hindrickson had called him abeggar. But he understood of course that it was simply because hehad not worn his imperial cap or carried his stick when he went upto the forest. This brought him back to his present dilemma. Surelyhe had waited long enough! He should have been called by this time. This would never do!

He rose at once, resolutely crossed the room into the hallway, climbed the stairs, and opened the door to the big dining-hall. Hesaw at a glance that the dinner was already on; every place at thelarge horseshoe table was occupied and the first course had beenserved. Then it was not meant that he should be among the elect, for there sat the pastor, the sexton, the lieutenant from Lövdalaand his lady--there sat every one who should be there, excepthimself. 

One of the young girls who passed around the food rushed over toJan the instant he appeared in the doorway. "What are you doinghere, Jan?" she said in a low voice. "Go down with you!"

"But my good hostess!" Jan protested, "Emperor Johannes ofPortugallia should be present at the first sitting. "

"Oh, shut up, Jan!" said the girl. "This is not the proper time tocome with your nonsense. Go down, and you'll get something to eatwhen your turn comes. "

It so happened that Jan entertained a greater regard for thisparticular household than for any other in the parish; therefore itwould have been very gratifying to him to be received here in amanner befitting his station. A strange feeling of despondency cameover him as he stood down by the door, cap in hand; he felt thatall his imperial grandeur was falling from him. Then, in the middleof this sore predicament, he heard Linnart Hindrickson exclaim:

"Why, there stands the fellow who came to me last Sunday and toldme that father was sick!"

"What are you saying?" questioned the mother. "But are you certainas to that?"

"Of course I am. It can't be any one but he. I've seen him beforeto-day, but I didn't recognize him in that queer get-up. However Isee now that he's the man. "

"If he is our man, he mustn't be allowed to stand down by the door, like a beggar, " said the old housewife. "In that case, we must makeroom for him at the table. Him we owe both honour and thanks, forit was he who sent comfort to Björn in his last hours, while to mehe has brought the only consolation that can lighten my sorrow inthe loss of a husband like mine. "

And room was made, too, though the table seemed to be crowdedenough already. 

Jan was placed at the centre of the horseshoe, directly oppositethe pastor. He could not have wished for anything better. At firsthe seemed a little dazed. He could not comprehend why they shouldmake such fuss over him just because he had run a few miles intothe woods with a message for Linnart Hindrickson, Suddenly heunderstood, and all became clear to him: it was the Emperor theywished to honour; they had gone about it in this way so that no oneshould feel slighted or put out. It couldn't be explained in anyother way. For he had always been kind and good-natured and helpful, yet never before had he been honoured or fêted in the least degreefor that. 

THE DYING HEART

Engineer Boraeus on his daily stroll to the pier could not fail tonotice the crowds that always gathered nowadays around the littleold man from Ruffluck Croft. Jan did not have to sit all by himselfany more and while away the long, dreary hours in silent musings, as he had done during the summer. Instead, all who waited for theboat went up to him to hear him tell what would happen on thehomecoming of the Empress, more especially when she stepped ashorehere, at the Borg landing. Every time Engineer Boraeus went by heheard about the crown of gold the Empress would wear on her hairand the gold flowers that would spring into bloom on tree and bushthe instant she set foot on land. 

One day, late in October, about three months after Jan of Ruffluckhad first proclaimed the tidings of Glory Goldie's rise to royalhonours, the engineer saw an uncommonly large gathering of peoplearound the little old man. He intended to pass by with a curtgreeting, as usual, but changed his mind and stopped to see whatwas going on. 

At first glance he found nothing out of the ordinary, Jan wasseated upon one of the waiting stones, as usual, looking verysolemn and important. Beside him sat a tall, thin woman, who wastalking so fast and excitedly that the words fairly spurted out ofher mouth; she shook her head and snapped her eyes, her bodybending forward all the while so that by the time she had finishedspeaking her face was on a level with the ground. 

Engineer Boraeus immediately recognized the woman as Mad Ingeborg. At first he could not make out what she was saying, so he turned toa man in the crowd and asked him what all this was about. 

"She's begging him to arrange for her to accompany the Empress toPortgallia, when Her Royal Highness returns thither, " the manexplained. "She has been talking to him about this for a good whilenow, but he won't make her any promises. "

Then the engineer had no difficulty in following the colloquy. Butwhat he heard did not please him, and, as he listened, the wrinklebetween his eyebrows deepened and reddened. 

Here sat the only person in the world, save Jan himself, whobelieved in the wonders of Portugallia, yet she was denied thepleasure of a trip there. The poor old soul knew that in thatkingdom there was no poverty and no hunger, neither were there anyrude people who made fun of unfortunates, nor any children whopursued lone, helpless wanderers and cast stones at them. In thatland reigned only peace, and all years were good years. So thithershe longed to be taken--away from the anguish and misery of herwretched existence. She wept and pleaded, employing every argumentshe could think of, but "No, " and again "No" was the only answershe got. 

And he who turned a deaf ear to her prayers was one who hadsorrowed and yearned for a whole year. A few months ago, when hisheart was still athrob with life, perhaps he would not have said noto her pleadings; but now at a time when everything seemed to beprospering with him, his heart had become hardened. Even theoutward appearance of the man showed that a great change had takenplace within. He had acquired plump cheeks, a double chin, and aheavy black moustache. His eyes bulged from their sockets, andthere was a cold fixed stare about them. His nose, too, looked moreprominent than of yore and had taken on a more patrician mold. Hishair seemed to be entirely gone; not one hair stuck out from underthe leather cap. 

The engineer had kept an eye on the man from the day of their firsttalk in the summer. It was no longer an intense yearning that madeJan haunt the pier. Now he hardly glanced toward the boat. He cameonly to meet people who humoured his mania, who called him"Emperor" just for the sport of hearing him sing and narrate hiswild fancies. 

But why be annoyed at that? thought the engineer. The man was alunatic of course. But perhaps the madness need never have becomeso firmly fixed as it was then. If some one had ruthlessly yankedJan of Ruffluck down off his imperial throne in the beginningpossibly he could have been saved. 

The engineer flashed the man a challenging glance. Jan lookedcondescendingly regretful, but remained adamant as before. 

In that fine land of Portugallia there were only princes andgenerals, to be sure--only richly dressed people. Mad Ingeborg inher old cotton headshawl and her knit jacket would naturally be outof place there. But Heavenly Father! the engineer actually thought--

Engineer Boraeus looked just then as if he would have liked togive Jan a needed lesson, but he only shrugged his shoulders. Heknew he was not the right person for that, and would simply makebad worse. Quietly withdrawing from the crowd, he walked down tothe end of the pier just as the boat hove into view from behind thenearest point. 

DEPOSED

Long before his marriage to Anna Ericsdotter of Falla, LarsGunnarson happened one day to be present at an auction sale. 

The parties who held the auction were poor folk who probably had notempting wares to offer the bargain seekers, for the bidding hadbeen slow, and the sales poor. They had a right to expect betterresults, with Jöns of Kisterud as auctioneer. Jöns was such acapital funmaker that people used to attend all auctions at whichhe officiated just for the pleasure of listening to him. Althoughhe got off all his usual quips and jokes, he could not seem toinfuse any life into the bidders on this occasion. At last, notknowing what else he could do, he put down his hammer saying he wastoo hoarse to do any more crying. 

"The senator will have to get some one else to offer the wares, " hetold Carl Carlson of Stovik, who stood sponsor for the auction. "I've shouted myself hoarse at these stone images standing aroundme, and will have to go home and keep my mouth shut for a fewweeks, till I can get back my voice. "

It was a serious matter for the senator to be left without a crier, when most of the lots were still unsold; so he tried to persuadeJöns to continue. But it was plain that Jöns could not afford tohurt his professional standing by holding a poor auction, andtherefore he became so hoarse all at once that he could not evenspeak in a whisper. He only wheezed. 

"Perhaps there is some one here who will cry out the wares for amoment, while Jöns is resting?" said the senator, looking out overthe crowd without much hope of finding a helper. 

Then Lars Gunnarson pushed his way forward and said he was willingto try. Carl Carslon only laughed at Lars, who at that time lookedlike a mere stripling, and told him he did not want a small boy whohad not even been confirmed. Whereupon Lars promptly informed CarlCarlson that he had not only been confirmed but had also performedmilitary service. He begged so eagerly to be allowed to wield thehammer that the senator finally gave way to him. 

"We may as well let you try your hand at it for a while, " he said. "I dare say it can't go any worse than it has gone so far. "

Lars promptly stepped into Jöns's place. He took up an old buttertub to offer it--hesitated and just stood there looking at it, turning the tub up and down, tapping on its bottom and sides. Apparently surprised not to find any flaws in it, he presentlyoffered the lot in a reluctant tone of voice, as if distressed athaving to sell so valuable an article. For his part, he wouldrather that no bids be made, he said. It would be lucky for theowner if no one discovered what a precious butter tub this was, forthen he could keep it. 

And now, when bid followed bid, everybody noticed how disappointedLars looked. It was all very well so long as the bids were so lowas to be beneath his notice; but when they began to mount higherand higher, his face became distorted from chagrin. He seemed to bemaking a great sacrifice when he finally decided to knock down thesour old butter tub. 

After that he turned his attention to the water buckets, the cowls, and washtubs. Lars Gunnarson seemed somewhat less reluctant when itcame to disposing of the older ones, which he sold without indulgingin overmuch sighing; but the newer lots he did not want to offer atall. "They are far too good to give away, " he remarked to theowner. "They've been used so little that you could easily sell themfor new at the fair. "

The auction hunters had no notion as to why they kept shouting moreand more eagerly. Lars Gunnarson showed much distress for everyfresh bid; it could never have been to please him they werebidding. Somehow they had come to regard the things he offered asof real worth. It suddenly occurred to them that one thing oranother was needed at home and here were veritable bargains, whichthey were not buying now just for the fun of it, as had been thecase when Jöns of Kisterud did the auctioning. 

After this master stroke Lars Gunnarson was in great demand at allauctions. There was never any merriment at the sales after he hadbegun to wield the hammer; but he had the faculty of making folkslong to get possession of a lot of old junk and inducing a coupleof bigwigs to bid against each other on things they had no earthlyuse for, simply to show that money was no object to them. And hemanaged to dispose of everything at all auctions at which heserved. 

Once only did it seem to go badly for Lars, and that was at SvenÖsterby's, at Bergvik. There was a fine big house, with all itsfurnishings up for sale. Many people had assembled, and though latein the autumn the weather was so mild that the auction could beheld out of doors; yet the sales were almost negligible. Lars couldnot make the people take any interest in the wares, or get them tobid. It looked as though it would go no better for him than it hadgone for Jöns of Kisterud the day Lars had to take up the hammer tohelp him out. 

Lars Gunnarson, however, had no desire to turn his work over toanother. He tried instead to find out what it was that seemed to bedistracting the attention of the people and keeping them frommaking purchases. Nor was he long getting at the cause of it. 

Lars had mounted a table, that every one might see what he had tooffer, and from this point of vantage he soon discovered that thenewly created emperor, who lived in the little but close to Fallaand had been a day labourer all his life, moved about in the crowd. Lars saw him bowing and smiling to right and left, and lettingpeople examine his stars and his stick, and, at every turn, he hada long line of youngsters at his heels. Nor were older folks abovebandying words with him. No wonder the auction went badly, with agrand monarch like him there to draw every one's attention tohimself!

At first Lars went right on with his auctioneering, but he kept aneye on Jan of Ruffluck until the later had made his way to thefront. There was no fear of Johannes of Portugallia remaining inthe background! He shook hands with everybody and spoke a fewpleasant words to each and all, at the same time pushing aheaduntil he had reached the very centre of the ring. 

But the moment Jan was there Lars Gunnarsom jumped down from thetable, rushed up to him, snatched his imperial cap and stick andwas back in his place before Jan had time to think of offeringresistance. 

Then Jan cried out and tried to climb up onto the table to get backthe stolen heirlooms, but immediately Lars raised the stick to himand forced him back. At that there was a murmur of disapproval fromthe crowd, which, however, had no effect upon Lars. 

"I see that you are surprised at my action, " he shouted in his loudauctioneering voice, which could be heard all over the yard. "Butthis cap and this stick belong to us Falla folk. They werebequeathed to my father-in-law, Eric Ersa, by the old master ofFalla, he who ran the farm before Eric took it over. These thingshave always been treasured in the family, and I can't toleratehaving a lunatic parade around in them. "

Jan had suddenly recovered his composure and while Lars wasspeaking, he stood with his arms crossed on his chest a look inhis face of sublime indifference to Lars's talk. As soon as Larssubsided, Jan, with a gesture of command, turned to the crowd, andsaid very quietly:

"Now, my good Courtiers, you must see that I get back my property. "

Not a solitary person made a move to help him, but there were somewho laughed. Now they had all gone over to Lars's side. There wasjust one individual who seemed to feel sorry for Jan. A woman criedout to the auctioneer:

"Ah, Lars, let him keep his royal trumpery! The cap and stick areof no use to you. "

"I'll give him one of my own caps, when I get home, " returned Lars. "But I'll be hanged if I let him go about any longer with theseheirlooms, making of them a target for jests!"

This was followed by loud laughs from the crowd, Jan was sodumfounded that all he could do was to stand still and look at thepeople. He glanced from one to another, unable to get over hisamazement. Dear, dear! Was there no one among all those who hadhonoured and applauded him who would help him now, in his hour ofneed? The people stood there, unmoved. He saw then that he meantnothing to them and that they would not lift a finger for him. Hebecame so frightened that all his imperial greatness fell from him, and he was like a little child that is ready to cry because itsplaythings have been taken away. 

Lars Gunnarson turned to the huge pile of wares stacked beside him, prepared to go on with the auction. Then Jan attempted to dosomething himself. Wailing and protesting, he went up to the tablewhere Lars stood, quickly bent down and tried to overturn it. ButLars was too alert for him; with a swing of the imperial stick, hedealt Jan a blow across his back that sent him reeling. 

"No you don't!" cried he. "I'll keep these articles for thepresent. You've wasted enough time already on this emperornonsense. Now you'd better go straight home and take to yourdigging again. "

Jan did not appear to be specially anxious to obey; whereupon Larsagain raised the stick, and nothing more was needed to make EmperorJohannes of Portugallia turn and flee. 

No one made a move to follow him or offered him a word of sympathy. No one called to him to come back. Indeed folks only laughed whenthey saw how pitilessly and unceremoniously he had been stripped ofall his grandeur. 

But this did not suit Lars, either. He wanted to have it as solemnat his auctions as at a church service. 

"I think it's better to talk sense to Jan than to laugh at him, " hesaid, reprovingly. "There are many who encourage him in hisfoolishness and who even call him Emperor. But that is hardly theright way to treat him. It would be far better to make himunderstand who and what he is, even though he doesn't like it. Ihave been his employer for some little time, therefore it is mybounden duty to see that he goes back to his work; otherwise he'llsoon be a charge on the parish. "

After that Lars held a good auction, with close and high bids. Thesatisfaction which he now felt was not lessened when on hishomecoming the next day, he learned that Jan of Ruffluck had againput on his working clothes, and gone back to his digging. 

"We must never remind him of his madness, " Lars Gunnarson warnedhis people, "then perhaps his reason will be spared to him. Anyhow, he has never had more than he needs. "

THE CATECHETICAL MEETING

Lars Gunnarson was decidedly pleased with himself for having takenthe cap and stick away from Jan; it looked as if he had at the sametime relieved the peasant of his mania. 

A fortnight after the auction at Bergvik a catechetical meeting washeld at Falla. People had gathered there from the whole districtround about Dove Lake, the Ruffluck folk being among them. Therewas nothing in Jan's manner or bearing now that would lead one tothink he was not in his right mind. 

All the benches and chairs in the house had been moved into thelarge room on the ground floor and arranged in close rows, andthere sat every one who was to be catechized, including Jan; forto-day he had not pushed his way up to a better seat than he wasentitled to. Lars kept his eyes on Jan. He had to admit to himselfthat the man's insanity had apparently been checked. Jan behavednow like any rational being; he was very quiet and all who greetedhim received only a stiff nod in response, which may have been dueto a desire on his part not to disturb the spirit of the meeting. 

The regular meeting was preceded by a roll call, and when thepastor called out "Jan Anderson of Ruffluck Croft, " the latteranswered "here" without the slightest hesitation--as if EmperorJohannes of Portugallia had never existed. 

The clergyman sat at a table at the far end of the room, with thebig church registry in front of him. Beside him sat Lars Gunnarson, enlightening him as to who had moved away from the district withinthe year, and who had married. 

Jan having answered all questions correctly and promptly, thepastor turned to Lars and put a query to him in a low tone of voice. 

"It was not as serious as it appeared, " said Lars. "I took it outof him. He works at Falla every day now, as he has always done. "

Lars had not thought to lower his voice, as had the pastor. Everyone knew of whom he was speaking and many glanced anxiously at Jan, who sat there as calm as though he had not heard a word. 

Later, when the catechizing was well on, the pastor happened to aska trembling youth whose knowledge of the Scriptures was to betested, to repeat the Fourth Commandment. 

It was not wholly by chance the pastor had chosen this commandmentas his text for that evening. When seated thus in a comfortable oldfarmhouse, with its olden-time furniture, and much else thatplainly bespoke a state of prosperity, he always felt moved toimpress upon his hearers how well those prosper who hold togetherfrom generation to generation, who let their elders govern as longas they are able to do so, and who honour and cherish themthroughout the remaining years of their lives. 

He had just begun to unfold the rich promises which God has made tothose who honour father and mother, when Jan of Ruffluck arose. 

"There is some one standing outside the door who is afraid to comein, " said Jan. 

"Go see what the matter is, Börje, " said the pastor. "You'renearest the door. "

Börje rose at once, opened the door, and glanced up and down theentry. 

"There's nobody out there, " he replied. "Jan must have heardwrongly. "

After this interruption the pastor proceeded to explain to hislisteners that this commandment was not so much of a command as itwas good counsel, which should be strictly followed if one wishedto succeed in life. He was himself only a youth, but this much hehad already observed: lack of respect toward parents anddisobedience were at the bottom of many of life's misfortunes. 

While the pastor was speaking Jan time and again turned his headtoward the door and he motioned to Katrina, who was sitting on thelast bench and could more easily get to the door than he could, togo open it. 

Katrina kept her seat as long as she dared; but being a bit fearfulof crossing Jan these days, she finally obeyed him. When she hadgot the door open, she, like Börje, saw no one in the entry. Sheshook her head at Jan and went back to her seat. 

The pastor had not allowed himself to be disconcerted by Katrina'smovements. To the great joy of all the young people, he had almostceased putting questions and was voicing some of the beautifulthoughts that kept coming into his mind. 

"Think how wisely and well things are ordered for the dear oldpeople whom we have with us in our homes!" he said. "Is it not ablessing that we may be a stay and comfort to those who cared forus when we were helpless, to make life easy for those who perhapshave suffered hunger themselves that we might be fed? It is anhonour for a young couple to have at the fireside an old fatheror mother, happy and content--"

When the pastor said that a smothered sob was heard from a cornerof the room. Lars Gunnarson, who had been sitting with headdevoutly bowed, arose at once. Crossing the floor on tiptoes, so asnot to disturb the meeting, he went over to his mother-in-law, placed his arm around her, and led her up to the table. Seating herin his own chair, he stationed himself behind it and looked down ather with an air of solicitude; then he beckoned to his wife to comeand stand beside him. Every one understood of course that Larswanted them to think that in this home all was as the pastor hadsaid it should be. 

The minister looked pleased as he glanced up at the old mother andher children. The only thing that affected him a littleunpleasantly was that the old woman wept all the while. He hadnever before succeeded in calling forth such deep emotion in any ofhis parishioners. 

"It is not difficult to keep the Fourth Commandment when we areyoung and still under the rule of our parents, " the pastorcontinued; "but the real test comes later, when we are grown andthink ourselves quite as wise--"

Here the pastor was again interrupted. Jan had just risen and goneto the door himself. He seemed to have better luck than had Börjeor Katrina: for he was heard to say "Go'-day" to somebody out inthe entry. 

Now every one turned to see who it was that had been standingoutside all the evening, afraid to come in. They could hear Janurging and imploring. Evidently the person wished to be excused, for presently Jan pulled the door to and stepped back into theroom, alone. He did not return to his seat, but threaded his way upto the table. 

"Well, Jan, " said the pastor, somewhat impatient, "may we hear nowwho it is that has been disturbing us the whole evening?"

"It was the old master of Falla who stood out there, " Jan replied, not in the least astonished or excited over what he had to impart. "He wouldn't come in, but he bade me tell Lars from him to bewarethe first Sunday after Midsummer Day. "

At first not many understood what lay back of Jan's words. Thosewho sat in the last rows had not heard distinctly, but theyinferred from the startled look on the pastor's face that Jan musthave said something dreadful. They all sprang up and began to crowdnearer the table, asking to right and left who on earth he couldhave been talking to. 

"But Jan!" said the pastor in a firm tone, "do you know what youare saying?"

"I do indeed, " returned Jan with an emphatic nod. "As soon as hehad given me the message for his son-in-law he went away. 'Tellhim, ' he said, 'that I wish him no ill for letting me lie in thesnow in my agony and not coming to my aid in time; but the FourthCommandment is a strict one. Tell him from me he'd better repentand confess. He will have until the Sunday after Midsummer to do itin. '"

Jan spoke so rationally and delivered his strange message with suchsincerity that both the pastor and the others firmly believed atfirst that Eric of Falla had actually stood outside the door of hisold home and talked with Jan. And naturally they all turned theireyes toward Lars Gunnarson to see what effect Jan's words had hadon him. 

Lars only laughed. "I thought Jan sane, " he said, "or I shouldn'thave let him come to the meeting. The pastor will have to pardonthe interruption. It is the madness breaking out again. "

"Why of course!" said the pastor, relieved. For he had been on thepoint of believing he had come upon something supernatural. It waswell, he thought, that this was only the fancy of a lunatic. 

"You see, Pastor, " Lars went on explaining, "Jan has no great lovefor me, and it's plain now he hasn't the wit to conceal it. I mustconfess that in a sense I'm to blame for his daughter having to goaway to earn money. It's this he holds against me. "

The parson, a little surprised at Lars's eager tone, gave him asearching glance. Lars did not meet that gaze, but looked away. Perceiving his mistake, he tried to look the parson in the face. Somehow he couldn't--so turned away, with an oath. 

"Lars Gunnarson!" exclaimed the pastor in astonishment. "What hascome over you?"

Lars immediately pulled himself together. 

"Can't I be rid of this lunatic?" he said, as though Jan were theone he had sworn at. "Here stand the pastor and all my neighboursregarding me as a murderer only because a madman happens to hold agrudge against me! I tell you he wants to get back at me on accountof his daughter. How could I know that she would leave home and gowrong simply because I wanted what was due me. Is there no one herewho will take charge of Jan, " he asked, "so that the rest of us mayenjoy the service in peace?"

The pastor sat stroking his forehead. Lars's remarks troubled him;but he could not reprimand him when he had no positive proof thatthe man had committed a wrong. He looked around for the old mistressof Falla; but she had slipped away. Then he glanced out over thegathering, and from that quarter he got no help. He was confidentthat all in the room knew whether or not Lars was guilty, yet, whenhe turned to them, their faces looked quite blank. Meantime Katrinahad come forward and taken Jan by the arm, and the two of them werethen moving toward the door. Anyhow, the pastor had no desire toquestion a crazy man. 

"I think this will do for to-night, " he said quietly. "We willbring the meeting to a close. " He made a short prayer, which wasfollowed by a hymn. Whereupon the people went their ways. 

The pastor was the last to leave. While Lars was seeing him to thegate he spoke quite voluntarily of that which had just taken place. 

"Did you mark, Pastor, it was the Sunday after Midsummer Day I wasto be on my guard?" he said. "That just shows it was the girl Janhad in mind. It was the Sunday after Midsummer of last year that Iwas over at Jan's place to have an understanding with him about thehut. "

All these explanations only distressed the pastor the more. Of asudden he put his hand on Lars's shoulder and tried to read hisface. 

"I'm not your judge, Lars Gunnarson, " he said in warm, reassuringtones, "but if you have something on your conscience, you can cometo me. I shall look for you every day. Only don't put it off toolong!"

AN OLD TROLL

The second winter of the little girl's absence from home was anextremely severe one. By the middle of January it had grown sounbearably cold that snow had to be banked around all the littlehuts in the Ashdales as a protection against the elements, andevery night the cows had to be covered with straw, to keep themfrom freezing to death. 

It was so cold that the bread froze; the cheese froze, and even thebutter turned to ice. The fire itself seemed unable to hold itswarmth. It mattered not how many logs one laid in the fireplace, the heat spread no farther than to the edge of the hearth. 

One day, when the winter was at its worst, Jan decided that insteadof going out to his work he would stay at home and help Katrinakeep the fire alive. Neither he nor the wife ventured outside thehut that day, and the longer they remained indoors the more theyfelt the cold. At five o'clock in the afternoon, when it began togrow dark, Katrina said they might as well "turn in"; it was nogood their sitting up any longer, torturing themselves. 

During the afternoon Jan had gone over to the window, time andagain, and peered out through a little corner of a pane that hadremained clear, though the rest of the glass was thickly crustedwith frost flowers. And now he went back there again. 

"You can go to bed, Katrina dear, " he said as he stood looking out, "but I've got to stay up a while longer. "

"Well I never!" ejaculated Katrina. "Why should you stay up? Whycan't you go to bed as well as I?"

But Jan did not reply to her questions. "It's strange I haven'tseen Agrippa Prästberg pass by yet, " he said. 

"Is it him you're waiting for!" snapped Katrina. "He hasn't been soextra nice to you that you need feel called upon to sit up andfreeze on his account!"

Jan put up his hand with a sweep of authority--this being the onlymannerism acquired during his emperorship which had not beendropped. There was no fear of Prästberg coming to them, he toldher. He had heard that the old man had been invited to a drinkingbout at a fisherman's but here in the Ashdales, but so far he hadnot seen him go by. 

"I suppose he has had the good sense to stay at home, " said Katrina. 

It grew colder and colder. The corners of the house creaked as ifthe freezing wind were knocking to be let in. All the bushes andtrees were covered with such thick coats of snow and rim frost theylooked quite shapeless. But bushes and trees, like humans, had toclothe themselves as well as they could, in order to be protectedagainst the cold. 

In a little while Katrina observed: "I see by the clock it's onlyhalf after five, but all the same I'll put on the porridge pot andprepare the evening meal. After supper, you can sit up and wait forPrästberg or go to bed, whichever you like. "

All this time Jan had stood at the window. "It can't be that hehas come this way without my seeing him?" he said. 

"Who cares whether a brute like him comes or doesn't come!"returned Katrina sharply, for she was tired of hearing about thatold tramp. 

Jan heaved a deep sigh. Katrina was more right than she herselfknew. He did not care a bit whether or not old "Grippie" hadpassed. His saying that he was expected was merely an excuse forstanding at the window. 

No word or token had he received from the great Empress, the littlegirl of Ruffluck, since the day Lars wrested from him his majestyand glory. He felt that such a thing could never have happenedwithout her sanction, and inferred from this that he had donesomething to incur her displeasure; but what he could not imagine!He had brooded over this all through the long winter evenings;through the long dark mornings, when threshing in the barn atFalla; through the short days, when carting wood from the bigforest. 

Everything had passed off so happily and well for him for threewhole months, so of course he could not think she had beendissatisfied with his emperorship. He had then known a time such ashe had never dreamed could come to a poor man like himself. Butsurely Glory Goldie was not offended at him for that!

No. He had done or said something which was displeasing to her, that was why he was being punished. But could it be that she was soslow to forget as never to forgive him? If she would only tell himwhat she was angry about! He would do anything he could to pacifyher. She must see for herself how he had put on his working clothesand gone out as a day labourer as soon as she let him know thatsuch was her wish. 

He could not speak of this matter to either Katrina or theseine-maker. He would be patient and wait for some positive signfrom Glory Goldie. Many times he had felt it to be so near that hehad only to put out his hand and take it. That very day, shut in ashe was, he had the feeling that there was a message from her on theway. This was why he stood peering out through the little clearcorner of the window. He knew, also, that unless it came very soonhe could not go on living. 

It was so dark now that he could hardly see as far as the gate, andhis hopes for that day were at an end. He had no objection toretiring at once, he said presently. Katrina dished out theporridge, the evening meal was hurridly eaten, and by a quarterafter six they were abed. 

They dropped off to sleep, too; but their slumbers were of shortduration. The hands of the big Dalecarlian clock had barely gotround to six-thirty when Jan sprang out of bed; he quicklyfreshened the fire, which was almost burned out, then proceeded todress himself. 

Jan tried to be as quiet as possible, but for all that Katrina wasawakened; raising herself in bed she asked if it was alreadymorning. 

No, indeed it wasn't, but the little girl had called to Jan in adream, and commanded him to go up to the forest. 

Now it was Katrina's turn to sigh! It must be the madness comeback, thought she. She had been expecting it every day for somelittle time, for Jan had been so depressed and restless of late. 

She made no attempt to persuade him to stay at home, but got up, instead, and put on her clothes. 

"Wait a minute!" she said, when Jan was at the door. "If you'regoing out into the woods to-night, then I want to go with you. "

She feared Jan would raise objections, but he didn't; he remainedat the door till she was ready. Though apparently anxious to beoff, he seemed more controlled and rational than he had been allday. 

And what a night to venture out into! The cold came against themlike a rain of piercing and cutting glass-splinters. Their skinssmarted and they felt as if their noses were being torn from theirfaces; their fingertips ached and their toes were as if they hadbeen cut off; they hardly knew they had any toes. 

Jan uttered no word of complaint, neither did Katrina; they justtramped on and on. Jan turned in on the winter-road across theheights, the one they had traversed with Glory Goldie one Christmasmorning when she was so little she had to be carried. 

There was a clear sky and in the west gleamed a pale crescent moon, so that the night was far from pitch dark. Still it was difficultto keep to the road because everything was so white with snow; timeafter time they wandered too close to the edge and sank deep into adrift. Nevertheless, they managed to make their way clear to thehuge stone that had once been hurled by a giant at Svartsjö church. Jan had already got past it when Katrina, who was a little waybehind him, gave a shriek. 

"Jan!" she cried out. And Jan had not heard her sound so frightenedsince the day Lars threatened to take their home away from them. "Can't you see there's some one sitting here?"

Jan turned and went back to Katrina. And now the two of them camenear taking to their heels; for, sure enough, propped against thestone and almost covered with rim frost sat a giant troll, with abristly beard and a beak-like nose!

The troll, or whatever it was, sat quite motionless. It had becomeso paralyzed from the cold that it had not been able to get back toits cave, or wherever else it kept itself nowadays. 

"Think that there really are such creatures after all!" said Katrina. "I should never have believed it, for all I've heard so much aboutthem. "

Jan was the first to recover his senses and to see what it was theyhad come upon. 

"It's no troll, Katrina, " he said. "It's Agrippa Prästberg. "

"Sakes alive!" gasped Katrina. "You don't tell me! From the look ofhim he could easily be mistaken for a troll. "

"He has just fallen asleep here, " observed Jan. "He can't be dead, surely!"

They shouted the old man's name and shook him; but he never stirred. 

"Run back for the sled, Katrina, " said Jan, "so we can draw himhome. I'll stay here and rub him with snow till he wakes up. "

"Just so you don't freeze to death yourself!"

"My dear Katrina, " laughed Jan, "I haven't felt as warm as I feelnow in many a day. I'm so happy about the little girl! Wasn't itdear of her to send us out here to save the life of him who hasgone around spreading so many lies about her?"

A week or two later, as Jan was returning from his work oneevening, he met Agrippa Prästberg. 

"I'm right and fit again, " Agrippa told him. "But I know wellenough that if you and Katrina had not come to the rescue therewouldn't have been much left of Johan Utter Agrippa Prästberg bynow. So I've wondered what I could do for you in return. "

"Oh, don't give that a thought my good Agrippa Prästberg!" saidJan, with that upward imperial sweep of the hand. 

"Hush now, while I tell you!" spoke Prästberg. "When I said I'dthought of doing you a return service, it wasn't just emptychatter. I meant it. And now it has already been done. The otherday I ran across the travelling salesman who gave that lass ofyours the red dress. "

"Who?" cried Jan, so excited he could hardly get his breath. 

"That blackguard who gave the girl the red dress and who afterwardsent her to the devil in Stockholm. First I gave him, on youraccount, all the thrashing he could take, and then I told him thatthe next time he showed his face around here he'd get just as big adose of the same kind of medicine. "

Jan would not believe he had heard aright. "But what did he say?"he questioned eagerly. "Didn't you ask him about Glory Goldie? Hadhe no greetings from her?"

"What could he say? He took his punishment and held his tongue. NowI've done you a decent turn, Jan Anderson, and we're even. JohanUtter Agrippa Prästberg wants no unpaid scores. "

With that he strode on, leaving Jan in the middle of the road, lamenting loudly. The little girl had wanted to send him a message!That merchant had come with greetings from her, but not a thing hadhe learned because the man had been driven away. 

Jan stood wringing his hands. He did not weep, but he ached allover worse than if he were ill. He felt certain in his own mindthat Glory Goldie had wanted Prästberg to take a message from herbrought by the merchant and convey it to her father. But it waswith Prästberg as with the trolls--whether they wanted to help orhinder they only wrought mischief. 

THE SUNDAY AFTER MIDSUMMER

The first Sunday after Midsummer Day there was a grand party at theseine-maker's to which every one in the Ashdales had been invited. The old man and his daughter-in-law were in the habit ofentertaining the whole countryside on this day of each year. 

Folks wondered, of course, how two people who were so pitiably poorcould afford to give a big feast, but to all who knew the whys andwherefores it seemed perfectly natural. 

As a matter of fact, when the seine-maker was a rich man he gavehis two sons a farmstead each. The elder son wasted his substancein much the same way as Ol' Bengtsa himself had done, and diedpoor. The younger son, who was the more steady and reliable, kepthis portion and even increased it, so that now he was quite well-to-do. But what he owned at the present time was as nothing to what hemight have had if his father had not recklessly made away with bothmoney and lands, to no purpose whatever. If such wealth had onlycome into the hands of the son in his younger days, there is notelling to what he might have attained. He could have been owner ofall the woodlands in the Lovsjö district, had a shop at Broby, anda steamer plying Lake Löven; he might even have been master of theironworks at Ekeby. Naturally he found it difficult to excuse thefather's careless business methods, but he kept his thoughts tohimself. 

When the crash came for Ol' Bengtsa, a good many persons, Bengtsaamong them, expected the son to come to his aid by the sacrifice ofhis own property. But what good would that have done? It would onlyhave gone to the creditors. It was with the idea in mind that thefather should have something to fall back upon when all hispossessions were gone, that the son had held on to his own. 

It was not the fault of the younger son that Ol' Bengtsa had takenup his abode with the widow of the elder son, for he had begged thefather more than a hundred times to come and live with him. Thefather's refusal to accept this offer seemed almost like an act ofinjustice; for because of it the son got the name of being mean andhard-hearted among those who knew the old man was badly off. Still, there was no ill-feeling between the two. 

The son, accompanied by his wife and children, always drove down tothe Ashdales over the steep and perilous mountain road once everysummer, just to spend a day with his father. 

If people had only known how badly he and his wife felt every timethey saw the wretched hovel, the ramshackle outhouse, the stonypotato patch, and the sister-in-law's ragged children, they wouldhave understood how his heart went out to his father. The worst ofall was that the father persisted in giving a big party in theirhonour. Every time they bade the old man good-bye they begged himnot to invite all the neighbours in when they came again the nextyear; but he was obdurate; he would not forego his yearly feast, though he could ill afford the expense. Seeing how aged and brokenhe looked, one would hardly have thought there was so much of theold happy-go-lucky Ol' Bengtsa of Lusterby still left in him, butthe desire to do things on a grand scale still clung to him. It hadcaused him misfortune from which he could never recover. 

The son had learned inadvertently that the old man and thesister-in-law scrimped the whole year just to be able to give agrand spread on the day he was at home. And then it was nothing buteat, eat the whole time! He and his family were hardly out of thewagon before they were served with coffee and all kinds of temptingappetizers. And later came the dinner to all the neighbours with afish course, a meat course, and game, and rice-cakes, and fruit-moldwith whipped cream, and quantities of wines and spirits. It wasenough to make one weep! He and his wife did nothing to encouragethis foolishness. On the contrary, they brought with them only suchplain fare as they were accustomed to have every day; but for allthat they could not escape the feasting. Sometimes they felt thatrather than let the old man ruin himself on their account theymight better remain away altogether. Yet they feared to do so, lesttheir good intentions should be misinterpreted. 

And what a strange company they were thrown in with at theseParties--old blacksmiths and fishermen and backwoodsmen! If suchgood, substantial folk as the Falla family had not been in thehabit of coming, too, there would have been no one there with whomthey could have exchanged a word. 

Ol' Bengtsa's son had liked the late Eric of Falla best, but healso entertained in a high regard for Lars Gunnarson, the presentmaster of Falla. Lars Gunnarson came of rather obscure people, buthe was a man who had the good sense to marry well, and who woulddoubtless forge ahead and gain for himself both wealth andposition. When the old man told his son that Lars Gunnarson was notlikely to come to the party this year, the latter was very muchdisappointed. 

"But it's no fault of mine, " Ol' Bengsta declared. "Lars isn'texactly my kind, but all the same, on your account, I went down toFalla yesterday and invited him. "

"Maybe he's weary of these parties, " said the son. 

"Oh, no, " returned Ol' Bengtsa. "I'm sure he'd be only too glad tocome, but there's something that's keeping him away. " He did notexplain further just then, but while they were having their coffee, he went back to the subject. "You mustn't feel so badly becauseLars isn't coming this evening, " he said. "I don't believe you'dcare for his company any more. "

"You don't mean that he has taken to drink?"

"That wasn't such a bad guess! He took to it suddenly in thespring, and since Midsummer Day he hasn't drawn a sober breath. "

During these visits the father and son immediately they hadfinished their coffee always went fishing. The old man usually keptvery still on these occasions, so as not to scare the fish away, but this year was the exception. He spoke to the son time andagain. His words came with difficulty, as always, still thereseemed to be more life in him now than ordinarily. Evidently therewas something special he wanted to say, or rather something hewished to draw from his son. He was like one who stands outside anempty house shouting and calling, in the hope that somebody willcome and open the door to him. 

He harked back to Lars Gunnarson several times, relating in partwhat had occurred at the catechetical meeting, and he even draggedin all the gossip that had been circulated about Lars in theAshdales since Eric's death. 

The son granted that Lars might not be altogether blameless; if hehad now begun drinking it was a bad sign. 

"I'm curious to see how he'll get through this day, " said Ol'Bengtsa. 

Just then the son felt a nibble, and did not have to answer. Therewas nothing in this whole story that had any bearing upon thecommon interests of himself and his father, yet he could not butfeel there was some hidden intent back of the old man's words. 

"I hope he'll drive over to the parsonage this evening, " pursuedOl' Bengtsa. "There is forgiveness of sins for him who will seekit. "

A long silence ensued. The son was too busy baiting his hook tothink of replying. Besides, this was not anything which called fora response. Presently there came from the old man such a heavy sighthat he had to look over toward him. 

"Father! Can't you see you've got a nibble? I believe you areletting the perch jerk the rod away from you. "

The old man quickly pulled up his line and released the fish fromthe hook. His fingers seemed to be all thumbs and the perch slippedfrom his hands back into the water. 

"It isn't meant that I shall catch any fish to-day, however much Imay want to. "

Yes, there was certainly something he wished the son to say--toConfess--but surely he did not expect him to liken himself to onewho was suspected of having caused the death of his father-in-law?

Ol' Bengtsa did not bait his hook again. He stood upon a stone, with his hands folded--his half-dead eyes fixed on the smooth water. 

"Yes--there is pardon for all, " he said musingly, "for all who lettheir old parents lie waiting and freezing in icy chilliness--pardon even to this day. But afterward it will be too late!"

Surely this could never have been said for the son's benefit. Thefather was no doubt thinking aloud, as is the habit of old people. 

Anyhow, the son thought he would try to make the old man talk aboutsomething else. So he said:

"How is the man who went crazy last year getting on?"

"Oh, you mean Jan of Ruffluck! Well, he has been in his right mindsince last fall. He'll not be at the party, either. He's only apoor crofter like myself; so him you'll not miss, of course. "

This was true enough. However, the son was so glad of an excuse tospeak of some one other than Lars Gunnarson, that he asked withgenuine concern what was wrong with Jan of Ruffluck. 

"Oh, he's just sick from pining for a daughter who went away abouttwo years ago, and who never writes to him. "

"The girl who went wrong?"

"So you knew about it, eh? But it isn't because of that he'sgrieving himself to death. It is the awful hardness and lack oflove that he can't bear up under. "

This forced colloquy was becoming intolerable. It made the son feelall the more uncomfortable. 

"I'm going over to the stone farthest out, " he said. "I see a lotof fish splashing round it. "

By that move he was out of earshot of his father, and there was nofurther conversation between them for the remainder of theforenoon. But go where he would, he felt that the dim, lustrelesseyes of the old man were following him. And this time he wasactually glad when the guests arrived. 

The dinner was served out of doors. When Ol' Bengtsa had taken hisplace at the board he tried to cast off all worry and anxiety. Whenacting as host at a party, so much of the Ol' Bengtsa of bygonedays came to the fore it was easy to guess what manner of man hehad once been. 

No one from Falla was present. But it was plain that Lars Gunnarsonwas in every one's thoughts; which was not surprising since thiswas the day he had been warned to look out for. Now of course Ol'Bengtsa's son had to listen to further talk about the catecheticalmeeting at Falla, and he heard more about the pastor's extraordinarydissertation on the duties of children toward their parents thanhe cared to hear. However, he said nothing; but Ol' Bengtsa musthave noticed that he was beginning to be bored, for he turned tohim with the remark:

"What do you say to all this, Nils? I suppose you're sitting therethinking to yourself it's very strange Our Lord hasn't written acommandment for parents on how they shall treat their children?"

This was wholly unexpected. The son could feel the blood mountingto his face. It was as if he had done something dreadful, and beencaught at it. 

"But my dear father!" he protested, "I've never said or thought--"

"True, " the old man struck in, turning now to his guests. "I knowyou will hardly believe what I tell you, but it's a fact that thisson of mine has never spoken an unkind word to me; neither has hiswife. "

These remarks were not addressed to any one in particular, nor didany one feel disposed to respond to them. 

"They have been put to some pretty hard tests, " Ol' Bengtsa wenton. "It was a large property they were deprived of. They could havebeen landed proprietors by this time if I had only done the rightthing. Yet they have never uttered a word of complaint and everysummer they pay me a visit, just to show they are not angry withme. "

The old man's face looked so dead now, and his voice sounded sohollow! The son could not tell whether he was trying to come outwith something or whether he talked merely for talk's sake. 

"Now it's altogether different with Lisa, " said Ol' Bengtsa, pointing at the daughter-in-law with whom he lived. "She scolds meevery day for not holding on to my property. "

The daughter-in-law, not in the least perturbed, retorted with agood-natured laugh: "And you scold me because I can't find time topatch all the holes in the boys' clothes. "

"That's true, " the old man admitted. "You see, we're not shy; wesay right out what we think and tell each other everything. WhatI've got is hers, and what she's got is mine; so I'm beginning tothink it is she who is my real child. "

Again the son felt embarrassed, and troubled as well. 

There was something the old man wanted to force from him--somethingof a personal nature; but surely he could not expect it to beforthcoming here, before all this company?

It was a great relief to the son of Ol' Bengtsa when on looking uphe saw Lars Gunnarson and his wife standing at the gate. Not healone, but every one was glad to see them. Now it was as if alltheir gloomy misgivings had suddenly been dispelled. 

Lars and his wife made profuse apologies for being so late. Larshad been suffering from a bad headache and had feared he would notbe able to come at all; but it had abated somewhat so he decided tocome to the party, thinking he would forget about his aches andpains if he got out among people. 

He looked a bit hollow-eyed, but he was as jolly and sociable as hehad been the year before. He had barely got down the first mouthfulof food when he and the son of Ol' Bengtsa fell to talking of thelumber business, of big profits and interest on loans. 

The poor rustics round about them, aghast at the mere mention ofthese large figures, were afraid to open their mouths. Ol' Bengtsawas the only one who wanted to have his say in the matter. 

"Since you're talking of money, " he said, "I wonder, Nils, if youremember that note for 17, 000 rix-dollars I got from the oldironmaster at Doveness? It was mislaid, if you recollect, andcouldn't be found at the time when I was in such hard straits. Justthe same, I wrote to the ironmaster requesting immediate payment;but received the reply that he was dying. Later on, after hisdeath, the administrators of the estate declared they could find norecord of my claim. I was informed that it wasn't possible for themto pay me unless I produced the note. We searched high and low forit, both I and my sons, but we couldn't find it. "

"You don't mean to tell me that you've come across it at last!" theson exclaimed. 

"It was the strangest thing imaginable!" the old man went on. "Janof Ruffluck came over here one morning and told me he knew for acertainty that the note was in the secret drawer of my cedar chest. He had seen me take it out in a dream, he said. "

"But you must have looked there?"

"Yes, I did search through the secret drawer on the left-hand side. But Jan said it was in the drawer on the right, and then, when Ilooked more carefully, I found a secret drawer that I'd never knownabout; and in that lay the note. "

"You probably put it there some time when you were in your cups. "

"Very likely I did. "

The son laid down his knife and fork for a moment, then took themup again. Something in the old man's tone made him a bit wary. "Maybe it's just a hoax, " he thought to himself. Aloud he said, "itwas outlawed, of course?"

"Oh, yes, " replied the old man, "it would doubtless have been soregarded by any other debtor. But I rowed across to Doveness oneday and took the note to the new ironmaster, who admitted at oncethat it was good. 'It's as clear as day that I must pay my father'sdebt, Ol' Bengtsa, ' he said. 'But you'll have to give me a fewweeks' grace. It is a large sum to pay out all at once. '"

"That was spoken like a man of honour!" said the son, bringing hishand down heavily on the table. A sense of gladness stole in uponhim in spite of his suspicions. To think that it was something sosplendid the old man had been holding back from him the whole day!

"I told the ironmaster that he needn't pay me just then; that if hewould only give me a new note the money could remain in hissafekeeping. "

"That was well, " said the son approvingly. There was a strong, gladring in his voice, that betrayed an eagerness he would rather nothave shown, for he knew of old that one could never be quite sureof Ol' Bengtsa--in the very next breath he might say it was just ayarn. 

"You don't believe me, " observed the old man. "Would you like tosee the note? Run in and get it, Lisa!"

Almost immediately the son had the note before his eyes. First heglanced at the signature, and recognized the firm, legible hand ofthe ironmaster. Then he looked at the figures, and found themcorrect. He nodded to his wife, who sat opposite him, that it wasall right, at the same time passing the note to her, knowing howinterested she would be to see it. 

The wife examined the note carefully. "What does this mean?" sheasked--"'Payable to Lisa Persdotter of Lusterby'--is Lisa to havethe money?"

"Yes, " the old man answered. "She gets this money because she hasbeen a good daughter to me. "

"But this is unfair--"

"No, it is not unfair, " drawled the old man in a tired voice. "Ihave squared myself and owe nobody anything. I might have had oneother creditor, " he added turning to this son, "but after lookinginto matters, I find that I haven't. "

"You mean me, I suppose, " said the son. "But you don't seem tothink I--" All that the son had wanted to say to the father wasleft unsaid, as he was interrupted by a piercing shriek from theopposite side of the table. 

Lars Gunnarson had just seized a bottle of brandy and put it tohis mouth. His wife, screaming from terror, was trying to take itfrom him. He held her back until he had emptied half the contents, whereupon he set the bottle down and turned to his wife, his faceflushed, his eyes staring wildly, his hands clenched. 

"Didn't you hear it was Jan who found the note?" he said in ahoarse voice. "All his dreams come true! Can't you comprehend thatthe man has the gift of second sight? You'll see that somethingdreadful will happen to me this day, as he has predicted. "

"Why he has only cautioned you to be on your guard, " said the wife. 

"You begged and teased me to come here so that I should forget whatday it was, and now I get this reminder!"

Again Lars raised the brandy bottle to his lips. This time, however, the wife cast herself upon him with prayers and tears. Replacing the bottle on the table, he said with a laugh: "Keep it!Keep it for all of me!" With that he rose and kicked the chair outof his way. "Good-bye to you, Ol' Bengtsa, " he said to the host. "Ihope you will pardon my leaving, but to-day I must go to a placewhere I can drink in peace. "

He rushed toward the gate, his wife following. When he was passingout into the road, he pushed her back. "Why can't you let me be!"he cried fiercely. "I've had my warning, and I go to meet my doom!"

SUMMERNIGHT

All day, while the party was going on at the seine-maker's, Jan ofRuffluck kept to his hut. But at evening he went out and sat downup on the flat stone in front of the house, as was his wont. He wasnot ill exactly, but he felt weak and tired. The hut had become sooverheated during the long, hot sunny day that he thought it wouldbe nice to get a breath of fresh air. He found, however, that itwas not much cooler outside, but he sat still all the same, mostlybecause there was so much out here that was beautiful to the eye. 

It had been an excessively hot and dry month of June and forestfires, which always rage every rainless summer, had already gotgoing. This he could tell by the pretty bluish-white smoke banksthat rose above the hills at the other side of the lake. Presently, away off to southward, a shimmery white curly cloud head appeared, while in the west, over against Great Peak, huge smoke-blendedclouds rolled up and up. It seemed to him as if the whole worldwere afire. 

No flames could be seen from where he sat, but there was nomistaking that fire had broken out and could hold sway indefinitely. He only hoped it would confine itself to the forest trees, and notsweep down upon huts and farmsteads. 

He could scarcely breathe. It was as if such quantities of air hadbeen consumed that there was very little of it left. At shortintervals he sensed an odour, as of something burning, that stuckin his nostrils. That odour did not come from any cook stove in theAshdales! It was a salutation from the great stake of pine needles, and moss, and brushwood that sizzled and burned many miles away. 

A little while ago the sun had gone down, red as fire, leaving inits wake enough colour to tint the whole sky, which was now rosehued not only across that corner of it where the sun had just beenseen, but over its entire expanse. At the same time the waters ofDove Lake had become as dark as mirror glass in the shadow of thetowering hills. In this black-looking water ran streaks of redblood and molten gold. 

It was the sort of night that makes one feel that the earth is notworthy a glance; that only the heavens and the waters that mirrorthem are worth seeing. 

As Jan sat gazing out at the beauties of the light summer night hesuddenly began to wonder. Could it be that he saw aright? But itactually looked as if the firmament were sinking. Anyway, to hisvision it was much nearer to the earth than usual. 

Could it be possible that something had gone wrong? Surely his eyeswere not deceiving him! The great pink dome of sky was certainlymoving down toward the earth, and all the while it was becominghotter and more oppressive. He already felt the terrible heat thatseemed to come from the red-hot dome that was sinking toward him. 

To be sure Jan had heard a good deal of talk about the comingdestruction of the world and had often pictured it as beingeffected by means of thunder-storms and earthquakes that would hurlthe mountains into the seas and drive the waters of the lakes andrivers over plains and valleys, so that all life would becomeextinct. But he never imagined the end should come in this way: bythe earth's burial under the vault of heaven with its inhabitantsall dying from heat and suffocation! This, it seemed to him, wasthe worst of all. 

He put down his pipe, though it was only half-smoked, but remainedquietly seated in the one spot. For what else could he do? This wasnot something which he could ward off--something he could run awayfrom. One could not take up arms and defend one's self against it, nor find safety by creeping into cellars or caves. Even if one hadthe power to empty all the oceans and lakes, their waters would notsuffice to quench the fires of the firmament. If one could uprootthe mountains and prop them, beam-like, against the sky, they couldnot hold up this heavy dome if it was meant that it should sink. 

Singularly enough no one but himself seemed to be aware of what washappening. 

Ah, look! What was that that went shooting up above the crest ofthe hill over yonder? A lot of black specks suddenly appeared inamong the pale smoke clouds. These specks whirled round each otherwith such rapidity that to Jan's eyes they looked like a successionof streaks moving in much the same way as when bees swarm. 

They were birds of course. The strange part of it was that they hadrisen in the night and soared into the clouds. 

They probably knew more than the human kind, thought Jan, for theyhad sensed that something was about to happen. 

Instead of the air becoming cooler, as on other nights, it grewwarmer and warmer. Anything else was hardly to be expected, withthe fiery dome coming nearer and nearer. Jan thought it had alreadysunk to the brow of Great Peak. 

But if the end of the world was so close at hand and there was nohope of his getting any word from Glory Goldie, much less of hisseeing her, before all was over, then he would pray for but asingle grace--that it might be made clear to him what he had doneto offend her, so that he could repent of it before the end ofeverything pertaining to the earth life. What had he done that shecould not forgive nor forget? Why had the crown and sceptre beentaken away from him?

As he put these queries to himself his glance fell upon a bit ofgilt paper that lay glittering on the ground in front of him. Buthis mind was not on such things now. This must have been one of thepaper stars he had borrowed of Mad Ingeborg. But he had not givena thought to this empty show since last autumn. 

It kept getting hotter and hotter, and it was becoming more andmore difficult to breathe. "The end is nearing, " thought Jan. "Maybe it's just as well it wasn't too long coming. "

A great sense of lassitude came over him. Unable to sit up anylonger, he slipped down off the stone and stretched himself out onthe ground. He felt it was hardly fair to Katrina not to let herknow what was taking place. But Katrina had gone to the seine-maker'sparty and was not back yet. If he only had the strength to draghimself thither! He would have liked to say a word of farewell toOl' Bengtsa, too. He was very glad when he presently saw Katrinacoming down the lane, accompanied by the seine-maker. He wanted tocall out to them to hurry, but not a sound could he get past hislips. Shortly afterward the two of them stood bending over him. 

Katrina immediately ran for water and made him drink some; and thenhe got back just enough strength to tell them that the Lastjudgment was at hand. 

"How you talk!" said Katrina. "The Last Judgment indeed! Why, you've got fever, man, and you're out of your head. "

Then Jan turned to the seine-maker. "Can't you see either that thefirmament is sinking and sinking?"

The latter did not give him any reply, but turned instead toKatrina, saying:

"This is pretty serious. I think we'll have to try the remedy wetalked of on the way. I may as well go down to Falla at once. "

"But Lars will never consent to it. "

"Why you know that Lars has gone down to the tavern. I'm sure theold mistress of Falla will have the courage--"

Jan cut him short. He could not bear to hear them speak ofcommonplace matters when such momentous things were in the air. 

"Stop talking, " he said. "Don't you hear the last trump? Don't youhear the rumbling up in the mountains?"

They paused a moment and listened, just to please Jan. And thenthey, too, heard a strange noise. 

"There's a wagon rattling along in the woods, " said Katrina. "Whaton earth can that mean?"

As the rumbling noise grew more and more distinct, theirastonishment increased. 

"And it's Sunday, too!" observed Katrina. "Now if this were aweekday you could understand it; but who can it be that's outdriving in the woods on a Sunday night?"

She listened again. Then she heard the scraping of wheels againststones and the clatter of hoofs along the steep forest road. 

"Do you hear?" asked Jan. "Do you hear?"

"Yes, I hear, " said Katrina. "But no matter who comes I've got toget the bed ready for you at once. It's that I have to think of. "

"And I'm going down to Falla, " said the seine-maker. "That's moreimportant than anything else. Good-bye for the present. "

The old man hurried away while Katrina went in to prepare the bed;she was hardly inside the door when the rattling noise, which sheand the seine-maker believed was caused by a common wagon, soundedas if it were almost upon them. To Jan it was the rumble of heavywar chariots, at whose approach the whole earth trembled. He calledin a loud voice to Katrina, who came out immediately. 

"Dear heart, don't be so scared!" she said reassuringly. "I can seethe horse now. It's the old bay from Falla. Sit up and you'll seeit, too. " Slipping her hand under Jan's neck she raised him to asitting posture. Through the elder bushes at the edge of the road ahorse could be seen running wildly in the direction of Ruffluck. "Don't you see it's only Lars Gunnarson driving home? He must havedrunk himself full at the tavern, for he doesn't seem to know whichway he's going. "

When Katrina said that a horse and wagon dashed by their gate. Bothshe and Jan noticed that the wagon was empty and the horsedriverless. 

All at once she let out a shriek: "Lord deliver us! Did you seehim, Jan? He's being dragged alongside the wagon!" Without waitingfor a reply she rushed across the yard into the road, where thehorse had just bolted past. 

Jan let her go without a word. He was glad to be alone again. Hehad not yet found an answer to his query as to why the Empress wasangry at him. 

The bit of gilt paper now lay directly under his eyes. It glistenedso that he had to look at it again and again. Meanwhile histhoughts went back to Mad Ingeborg--to the time when he had comeupon her at the Borg landing. It struck him instantly that here wasthe answer he had been seeking. Now he knew what it was the littlegirl had been displeased about all this while. He had been unkindto Mad Ingeborg; he should never have refused to let her go alongto Portugallia. 

How could he ever have imagined anything so mean of the greatEmpress as that she would not want to have Mad Ingeborg with her!It was that kind that she liked best to help. No wonder she wasangry! He ought to have known that the poor and unfortunate werealways welcome in her kingdom. 

There was very little that could be done in this matter if noto-morrow dawned, mused Jan. But what if there should be one? Ah, then he would go and talk with Mad Ingeborg first thing. 

He closed his eyes and folded his hands. Anyway, it was a blissfulrelief to him that this anxiety had been stilled. Now it would notbe nearly so hard to die. He had no idea as to how much time hadelapsed before he again heard Katrina's voice close to him. 

"Jan, dear, how do you feel now? You're not going to die and leaveme, are you?"

Katrina sounded so doleful that he had to look up at her. Then hesaw in her hand the imperial stick and the green leather cap. 

"I asked the folks down at Falla to let me take these to you, " sheexplained. "I told them that come what might it was better for youto have them again than to have you lose all interest in life. "

"The dear little girl, the great Empress, isn't she wonderful!" Jansaid to himself. No sooner had he come to a realization of his sinand promised to atone for it, than she again granted him her graceand her favour. 

He had such a marvellous feeling of lightness, as if a great weighthad been lifted from him. The firmament had raised itself and letin air, at the same time drawing away the excessive heat. He wasable to sit up now and fumble for the imperial regalia. 

"Now you can have them for good and all, " said Katrina. "There'llbe no one to come and take them away from you, for Lars Gunnarsonis dead. "

THE EMPEROR'S CONSORT

Katrina of Ruffluck Croft came into the kitchen at Lövdala Manorwith some spun wool. Lady Liljecrona herself received the yarn, weighed it, paid for it, and commended the old woman for herexcellent work. 

"It's fortunate for you, Katrina, that you are such a good worker, "said Lady Liljecrona. "I dare say you have to earn the living forboth yourself and the husband nowadays. "

Katrina drew herself up a bit and two pink spots came into herface, just over the sharp cheekbones. 

"Jan does his best, " she retorted, "but he has never had thestrength of a common labourer. "

"At any rate, he doesn't seem to be working now, " said LadyLiljecrona. "I have heard that he only runs about from place toplace, showing his stars and singing. "

Lady Liljecrona was a serious-minded and dutiful woman who likedindustrious and capable folk like Katrina of Ruffluck. She hadsympathy for her and wanted to show it. But Katrina continued tostand up for her husband. 

"He is old and has had much sorrow these last years. He has need ofa little freedom, after a lifetime of hard toil. "

"It's well you can take your misfortune so calmly, " observed LadyLiljecrona somewhat sharply. "But I really think that you, withyour good sense, should try to take out of Jan the ridiculousnonsense that has got into his head. You see, if this is allowed togo on it will end in his being shut up in a madhouse. "

Now Katrina squared her shoulders and looked highly indignant. 

"Jan is not crazy, " she said. "But Our Lord has placed a shadebefore his eyes so he'll not have to see what he couldn't bearseeing. And for that one can only feel thankful. "

Lady Liljecrona did not wish to appear contentious. She thought itonly right and proper for a wife to stand by her husband. 

"Then, Katrina, everything is all right as it is, " she saidpleasantly. "And don't forget that here you will find work enoughto keep you going the year around. "

And then Lady Liljecrona saw the stern, set old face in front ofher soften and relax: all that had been bound in and held back gaveway--grief and solicitude and love came breaking through, and theeyes overflowed. 

"My only happiness is to work for him, " said the old woman. "He hasbecome so wonderful with the years that he's something more thanjust human. But for that I suppose they'll come and take him awayfrom me. "

BOOK FOUR

THE WELCOME GREETING

She had come! The little girl had come! It is hard to find words todescribe so great an event. 

She did not arrive till late in the autumn, when the passengerboats that ply Lake Löven had discontinued their trips for theseason and navigation was kept up by only two small freightsteamers. But on either of these she had not cared to travel--orperhaps she had not even known about them. She had come by wagonfrom the railway station to the Ashdales. 

So after all Jan of Ruffluck did not have the pleasure of welcominghis daughter at the Borg pier, where for fifteen years he hadawaited her coming. Yes, it was all of fifteen years that she hadbeen away. For seventeen years she had been the light and life ofhis home, and for almost as long a time had he missed her. 

It happened that Jan did not even have the good fortune to be athome to welcome Glory Goldie when she came. He had just steppedover to Falla to chat a while with the old mistress, who had nowmoved out of the big farmhouse and was living in an attic room inone of the cottages on the estate. She was one of many lonely oldpeople on whom the Emperor of Portugallia peeped in occasionally, to speak a word of cheer so as to keep them in good spirits. 

It was only Katrina who stood at the door and received the littlegirl on her homecoming. She had been sitting at the spinning wheelall day and had just stopped to rest for a moment, when she heardthe rattle of a team down the road. It so seldom happened that anyone drove through the Ashdales that she stepped to the door tolisten. Then she discovered that it was not a common cart that wascoming, but a spring wagon. All at once her hands began to tremble. They had a way of doing that now whenever she became frightened orperturbed. Otherwise, she was well and strong despite her two andseventy years. She was only fearful lest this trembling of thehands should increase so that she would no longer be able to earnthe bread for herself and Jan, as she had done thus far. 

By this time Katrina had practically abandoned all hope of everseeing the daughter again, and that day she had not even been inher thought. But instantly she heard the rumble of wagon wheels sheknew for a certainty who was coming. She went over to the chest ofdrawers to take out a fresh apron, but her hands shook so hard thatshe could not insert the key into the keyhole. Now it wasimpossible for her to better her attire, therefore she had to gomeet her daughter just as she was. 

The little girl did not come in any golden chariot, she was noteven seated in the wagon, but came afoot. The road to the Ashdaleswas as rocky then as at the time when Eric of Falla and his wifehad driven her to the parsonage, to have her christened, and nowshe and the driver tramped on either side of the wagon steadying acouple of large trunks that stood on end behind the seat, toprevent them being jolted into the ditch. She arrived with no morepomp and state than this, and more was perhaps not called foreither. 

Katrina had just got the outer door open when the wagon stopped infront of the gate. She should have gone and opened the gate, ofcourse, but she did not do so. She felt all at once such a sinkingat the heart that she was unable to take a step. 

She knew it was Glory Goldie who had come, although the person whonow pushed the gate open looked like a grand lady. On her head wasa large hat trimmed with plumes and flowers and she wore a smartcoat and skirt of fine cloth; but all the same it was the littlegirl of Ruffluck Croft!

Glory Goldie, hurrying into the yard in advance of the team, rushedup to her mother with outstretched hand. But Katrina shut her eyesand stood still. So many bitter thoughts arose in her at thatmoment! She felt that she could never forgive the daughter forbeing alive and coming back so sound of wind and limb, afterletting her parents wait in vain for her all these years. Shealmost wished the daughter had never bothered to come home. 

Katrina must have looked as if ready to drop, for Glory Goldiequickly threw her arms around her and almost carried her into thehouse. 

"Mother dear, you mustn't be so frightened! Don't you know me?"

Katrina opened her eyes and regarded the daughter scrutinizingly. She was a sensible person, was Katrina, and of course she did notexpect that one whom she had not seen in fifteen years should lookexactly as she had looked when leaving home. Nevertheless, she washorrified at what she beheld. 

The person standing before her appeared much older than her years;for she was only two and thirty. But it was not because GloryGoldie had turned gray at the temples and her forehead was coveredwith a mass of wrinkles that Katrina was shocked, but because shehad grown ugly. She had acquired an unnatural leaden hue and therewas something heavy and gross about her mouth. The whites of hereyes had become gray and bloodshot, and the skin under her eyeshung in sacks. 

Katrina had sunk down on a chair. She sat with her hands tightlyclasped round her knees to keep them from shaking. She was thinkingof the radiant young girl of seventeen in the red dress; for thushad she lived in Katrina's memory up to the present moment. Shewondered whether she could ever be happy over Glory Goldie'sreturn. 

"You should have written, " she said. "You should at least have sentus a greeting, so that we could have known you were still in theland of the living. "

"Yes, I know, " said the daughter. Her voice, at least, had notfailed her; it sounded as confident and cheery as of old. "I wentwrong in the beginning--but perhaps you've heard about it?"

"Yes; that much we know, " sighed Katrina. 

"That was why I stopped writing, " said Glory Goldie, with a littlelaugh. There was something strong and sturdy about the girl then, as formerly. She was not one of those who torture themselves withremorse and self-condemnation. "Don't think any more of that, mother, " she added, as Katrina did not speak. "I've been doing realwell lately. For a time I kept a restaurant and now, I'll have youknow, I'm head stewardess on a steamer that runs between Malmö andLübeck, and this fall I have fitted up a home for myself at Malmö. Sometimes I felt that I ought to write to you, but finding itrather hard to start in again, I decided to put it off until I wasprepared to take you and father to live with me. Then, after I'dgot everything fixed fine for you, I thought it would be ever somuch nicer to come for you myself than to write. "

"And you haven't heard anything about us?" asked Katrina. All thatGlory Goldie had told her mother should have gladdened her, butinstead it only made her feel the more depressed. 

"No, " replied the daughter, then added, as if in self-justification:"I knew, of course, that you'd find help if things got too bad. " Atthe same time she noticed how Katrina's hands shook for all theywere being held tightly clasped. She understood then that the oldfolks were worse off than she had supposed, and tried to explainher conduct. "I didn't care to send home small sums, as others do, but wanted to save until I had enough money to provide a good homefor you. "

"We haven't needed money, " said Katrina. "It would have been enoughfor us if you had only written. "

Glory Goldie tried to rouse her mother from her slough of despond, as she had often done in the old days. So she said: "Mother, youdon't want to spoil this moment for me, do you? Why, I'm back withyou again! Come, now, and we'll take in my boxes and unpack them. I've brought provisions along. We'll have a fine dinner all readyby the time father comes home. " She went out to help the drivertake the luggage down from the wagon, but Katrina did not followher. 

Glory Goldie had not asked how her father was getting on. Shesupposed, of course, that he was still working at Falla. Katrinaknew she would have to tell the daughter of the father's condition, but kept putting it off. Anyway, the little girl had brought afreshening breeze into the hut and the mother felt loath to put asudden end to her delight at being home again. 

While Glory Goldie was helping unload the wagon, half a dozenchildren came to the gate and looked in; they did not speak; theyonly pointed at her and laughed--then ran away. But in a moment ortwo they came back. This time they had with them a little faded andshrivelled old man, who strutted along, his head thrown back andhis feet striking the ground with the measured tread of a soldieron parade. 

"What a curious looking figure!" Glory Goldie remarked to thedriver as the old man and the youngsters crowded in through thegate. She had not the faintest suspicion as to who the man was, butshe could not help noticing a person who was so fantasticallyarrayed. On his head was a green leather cap, topped with a bushyfeather; round his neck he wore a chain of gilt paper stars andcrosses that hung far down on his chest. It looked as though he hadon a gold necklace. 

The youngsters, unable to hold in any longer, shouted "Empress, Empress!" at the top of their voices. The old man strode on as ifthe laughing and shrieking children were his guard of honour. 

When they were almost at the door of the hut Glory Goldie gave awild shriek, and fled into the house. 

"Who is that man?" she asked her mother in a frightened voice. "Isit father? Has he gone mad?"

"Yes, " said Katrina, the tears coming into her eyes. 

"Is it because of me?"

"Our Lord let it happen out of compassion. He saw that his burdenwas too heavy for him. "

There was no time to explain further, for now Jan stood in thedoorway, and behind him was the gang of youngsters, who wanted tosee how this meeting, which they had so often heard him picture, would be in reality. 

The Emperor of Portugallia did not go straight up to his daughterbut stopped just inside the door and delivered his speech ofwelcome. 

"Welcome, welcome, O queen of the Sun! O rich and beautiful GloryGoldie!"

The words were delivered with that stilted loftiness whichdignitaries are wont to assume on great occasions. All the same, there were tears of joy in Jan's eyes and he had hard work to keephis voice steady. 

After the well-learned greeting had been recited the Emperor rappedthree times on the floor with his imperial stick for silence andattention, whereupon he began to sing in a thin, squeaky voice. 

Glory Goldie had drawn close to Katrina. It was as if she wished tohide herself, to crawl out of sight behind her mother. Up to thisshe had kept silence, but when Jan started to sing she cried out interror and tried to stop him. Then Katrina gripped her tightly bythe arm. 

"Leave him alone!" she said. "He has been comforted by the hope ofsinging this song to you ever since you first became lost to us. "

Then Glory Goldie held her peace and let Jan continue:

 "The Empress's father, for his part, Feels so happy in his heart. Austria, Portugal, Metz, Japan, Read the newspapers, if you can. Boom, boom, boom, and roll. Boom, boom. "

But Glory Goldie could stand no more. Rushing forward she quicklyhustled the youngsters out of the house, and banged the door onthem. Then turning round upon her father she stamped her foot athim. Now she was angry in earnest. 

"For heaven's sake, shut up!" she cried. "Do you want to make alaughing-stock of me by calling me an empress?"

Jan looked a little hurt, but he was over it in a twinkling. Shewas the Great Empress, to be sure. All that she did was right; allthat she said was to him as honey and balsam. In the supremehappiness of the moment he had quite forgotten to look for thecrown of gold and the field marshals in golden armour. If shewished to appear poor and humble when she came, that was her ownaffair. It was joy enough for him that she had come back. 

THE FLIGHT

One morning, just a week from the day of Glory Goldie's homecoming, she and her mother stood at the Borg pier, ready to depart for goodand all. Old Katrina was wearing a bonnet for the first time in herlife, and a fine cloth coat. She was going to Malmö with herdaughter to become a fine city dame. Never more would she have totoil for her bread. She was to sit on a sofa the whole day, withher hands folded, and be free from worry and care for the remainderof her life. 

But despite all the promised ease and comfort, Katrina had neverfelt so wretchedly unhappy as then, when standing thereon the pier. Glory Goldie, seeing that her mother looked troubled, asked her if she was afraid of the water, and tried to assure herthere was no danger, although it was so windy that one could hardlykeep one's footing on the pier. Glory Goldie was accustomed toseafaring and knew what she was talking about. 

"These are no waves, " she said to her mother. "I see of course thatthere are a few little whitecaps on the water, but I wouldn't beafraid to row across the lake in our old punt. "

Glory Goldie, who did not seem to mind the gale, remained on thepier. But Katrina, to keep from being blown to pieces, went intothe freight shed and crept into a dark corner behind a couple ofpacking cases. There she intended to remain until the boat arrived, as she had no desire to meet any of the parish folk before leaving. At the same time she knew in her heart that what she was doing wasnot right, since she was ashamed to be seen by people. She had oneconsolation at least; she was not going away with Glory Goldiebecause of any desire for ease and comfort, but only because herhands were failing her. What else could she do when her fingerswere becoming so useless that she could not spin any more?

Then who should come into the shed but Sexton Blackie!

Katrina prayed God he would not see her and come up and ask herwhere she was going. For how would she ever be able to tell him shewas leaving husband and home and everything!

She had tried to bring about some arrangement whereby Jan and shecould stay on at the croft. If the daughter had only been willingto send them a little money--say about ten rix-dollars a month--they could have managed fairly well. But Glory would not hear ofthis; she had declared that not a penny would she give them unlessKatrina went along with her. 

Katrina knew of course it was not from meanness that Glory Goldiehad said no to this. The girl had been to the trouble of fitting upa home for her parents and had looked forward to a time when shecould prove to them how much she thought of them, and how hard shehad worked for them, and now she wanted to have with her oneparent, at least, to compensate her for all her bother. Jan hadbeen uppermost in her thought when she was preparing the home, forshe had been especially fond of her father in the old days. Now, however, she felt it would be impossible to have him with her. 

Herein lay the whole difficulty: Glory Goldie had taken a violentdislike to her father. She could not abide him now. Never had hebeen allowed to talk with her of Portugallia or of her riches andpower; why, she could hardly bear the sight of him decked out inhis royal trumpery. All the same Jan was as pleased with her asever he had been, and always wanted to be near her, though she onlyran away from him. Katrina was sure that it was to escape seeingher crazy father that the girl had not remained at home longer thana week. 

Presently Glory Goldie, too, came into the freight shed. She wasnot afraid of Sexton Blackie. Not she! She went right up to him andbegan to chat. She told him in the very first breath that she wasreturning to her own home and was taking her mother back with her. 

Then Sexton Blackie naturally wanted to know how the father feltabout this, and Glory Goldie informed him as calmly as though shewere speaking of a stranger that she had arranged for her father toboard with Lisa, the daughter-in-law of Ol' Bengtsa. Lisa had builther a fine new house after the old man's death, and she had a spareroom that Jan could occupy. 

Sexton Blackie had a countenance that revealed no more of histhought than he wanted to reveal. And now, as he listened to GloryGoldie, his face was quite impassive. Just the same Katrina knewwhat he, who was like a father to the whole parish, was thinking. "Why should an old man who has a wife and daughter living beobliged to live with strangers? Lisa is a good woman, but she cannever have the patience with Jan that his own folks had. "That was what he thought. And he was right about it, too!

Katrina suddenly looked down at her hands. After all, perhaps shewas deceiving herself in laying the blame on them. The real reasonfor her desertion of Jan was this: the daughter had the strongerwill and she seemed unable to oppose her. 

All this time Glory Goldie stood talking to the sexton. Now she wastelling him of their being compelled to steal away from home sothat Jan should not know of their leaving. 

This had been the most dreadful part of it to Katrina. Glory Goldiehad sent Jan on an errand to the store away up in Bro parish and assoon as he was gone they had packed up their belongings and left. Katrina had felt like a criminal in sneaking away from the house inthat way, but Glory Goldie had insisted it was the only thing todo. For had Jan known of where they were going he would have casthimself in front of the wagon, to be trampled and run over. Andnow, on his return, Lisa would be at the house to receive him andof course she would try her best to console him; but still it hurtto think of how hard he would take it when he learned that hisdaughter had left him. 

Sexton Blackie had listened quietly to Glory Goldie, withoutputting in a word. Katrina had begun to wonder whether he waspleased with what he had learned, when he suddenly took the girl'shand in his and said with great gravity:

"Inasmuch as I am your old teacher, Glory Goldie, I shall speakplainly to you. You want to run away from a duty, but that does notsay that you will succeed. I have seen others try to do the samething, but it has invariably resulted in their undoing. "

When Katrina heard this she rose and drew a breath of relief. Thosewere the very words she herself had been wanting to say to herdaughter. 

Glory Goldie answered in all meekness that she did not know whatelse she could have done. She certainly could not take an insaneman along to a strange city, nor could she remain in Svartsjö, andJan had himself to thank for that. When she went past a house theyoungsters came running out shouting "Empress, Empress" at her, andlast Sunday at church the people in their eager curiosity to seeher had crowded round her and all but knocked her down. 

"I understand that such things are very trying, " said the sexton. "But between you and your father there has been an uncommonly closebond of sympathy, and you musn't think it can be so easilysevered. "

Then the sexton and Glory Goldie went outside. Katrina followedimmediately. She had altered her mind now and wanted to talk to thesexton, but stopped a moment to glance up toward the hill. She hadthe feeling that Jan would soon be there. 

"Are you afraid father will come?" asked Glory Goldie, leaving thesexton and going over to her mother. 

"Afraid!" cried Katrina. "I only hope to God he gets here beforeI'm gone!" Then, summoning all her courage, she went on: "I feelthat I have done something wicked for which I shall suffer as longas I live. "

"You think that only because you've had to live in gloom and miseryso many years, " said Glory Goldie. "You'll feel differently oncewe're away from here. Anyhow, it isn't likely that father will comewhen he doesn't even know we've left the house. "

"Don't be too sure of that!" returned Katrina. "Jan has a way ofknowing all that is necessary for him to know. It has been likethat with him since the day you left us, and this power of sensingthings has increased with the years. When the poor man lost hisreason Our Lord gave him a new light to be guided by. "

Then Katrina gave Glory Goldie a brief account of the fate of LarsGunnarson and of other happenings of more recent date, to prove toher that Jan was clairvoyant, as folks call it. Glory Goldielistened with marked attention. Before Katrina had tried to tellher of Jan's kindness toward many poor old people, but to that shehad not cared to listen. This, on the contrary, seemed to impressthe girl so much that Katrina began to hope the daughter's opinionof Jan would change and that she, too, would turn back. 

But Katrina was not allowed to cling to this hope long! In a momentGlory Goldie cried out in a jubilant voice:

"Here's the boat, mother! So after all it has turned out well forus, and now we'll soon be off. "

When Katrina saw the boat at the pier her old eyes filled up. Shehad intended to ask Sexton Blackie to say a good word for Jan andherself to Glory Goldie, but now there was no time. She saw no wayof escaping the journey. 

The boat was evidently late, for she seemed to be in a great hurryto get away again. There was not even time to put out thegangplank. A couple of hapless passengers who had to come ashorehere were almost thrown onto the pier by the sailors. Glory Goldieseized her mother by the arm and dragged her over to the boat, where a man lifted her on board. The old woman wept and wanted toturn back, but no pity was shown her. 

The instant Katrina was on deck Glory Goldie put her arm aroundher, to steady her. 

"Come, let's go over to the other side of the boat, " she said. 

But it was too late. Old Katrina had just caught sight of a manrunning down the hill toward the pier. And she knew who it was, too!

"It's Jan!" she cried. "Oh, what will he do now!"

Jan did not stop until he reached the very edge of the pier; butthere he stood--a frail and pathetic figure. He saw Glory Goldie onthe outgoing boat and greater anguish and despair than weredepicted on his face could hardly be imagined. But the sight of himwas all Katrina needed to give her the strength to defy herdaughter. 

"You can go if you want to, " she said. "But I shall get off at thenext landing and go home again. "

"Do as you like, mother, " sighed Glory Goldie wearily, perceivingthat here was something which she could not combat. And perhapsshe, too, may have felt that their treatment of the father wasoutrageous. 

No time was granted them for amends. Jan did not want to lose hiswhole life's happiness a second time, so with a bound he leapedfrom the pier into the lake. 

Perhaps he intended to swim out to the boat. Or maybe he just feltthat he could not endure living any longer. 

Loud shrieks went up from the pier. Instantly a boat was sent out, and the little freight steamer lay by and put out her skiff. 

But Jan sank at once and never rose to the surface. The imperialstick and the green leather cap lay floating on the waves, but theEmperor himself had disappeared so quietly, so beyond all tracing, that if these souvenirs of him had not remained on top of thewater, one would hardly have believed him gone. 

HELD!

It seemed extraordinary to many that Glory Goldie of Ruffluckshould have to stand at the Borg pier day after day, watching forone who never came. 

Glory Goldie did not stand there waiting on fine light summer dayseither! She was on the pier in bleak and stormy November and indark and cold December. Nor did she have any sweet and solacingdreams about travellers from a far country who would step ashorehere in pomp and state. She had eyes and thoughts only for a boatthat was being rowed back and forth on the lake, just beyond thepier, dragging for the body of a drowned man. 

In the beginning she had thought that the one for whom she waitedwould be found immediately the dragging was begun. But such was notthe case. Day after day a couple of patient old fishermen workedwith grappling hooks and dragnets, without finding a trace of thebody. 

There were said to be two deep holes at the bottom of the lake, close to the Borg pier, and some folks thought Jan had gone downinto one of them. Others maintained there was a strong under-towhere at the point which ran farther in, toward Big Church Inlet, and that he had been carried over there. Then Glory Goldie had thedraglines lengthened, so that they would reach down to the lowestdepths of the lake, and she ordered every foot of Big Church Inletdragged; yet she did not succeed in bringing her father back intothe light of day. 

On the morning following the tragic end of her father Glory Goldieordered a coffin made. When it was ready she had it brought down tothe pier, that she might lay the dead man in it the moment he wasfound. Night and day it had to stand out there. She would not evenhave it put into the freight shed. The guard locked the shedwhenever he left the pier, and the coffin had to be at hand alwaysso that Jan would not be compelled to wait for it. 

The old Emperor used to have kind friends around him at the pier, to enliven his long waiting hours. But Glory Goldie nearly alwaystramped there alone. She spoke to no one, and folks were glad toleave her in peace, for they felt that there was something uncannyabout her which had been the cause of her father's death. 

In December navigation closed. Then Glory Goldie had the pier allto herself. No one disturbed her. The fishermen who were conductingthe search on the lake wanted to quit now. But that put GloryGoldie in despair. She felt that her only hope of salvation lay inthe finding of her father. She told the men they must go on withthe search while the lake was still unfrozen, that they must searchfor him down by Nygard Point; by Storvik Point--they must searchthe length and breadth of all Lake Löven. 

For each day that passed Glory Goldie became more desperatelydetermined to find the body. She had taken lodgings in a cotter'sbut at Borg. In the beginning she remained indoors at least somemoments during the day, but after a time her mind became prey tosuch intense fear that she could scarcely eat or sleep. Now shepaced the pier all the while--not only during the short hours ofdaylight but all through the long, dark evenings, until bedtime. 

The first two days after Jan's death Katrina had stayed on thepier with Glory Goldie, and watched for his return. Then she wentback to Ruffluck. It was not from any feeling of indifference thatshe stopped coming to the pier, it was simply that she could notstand being with her daughter and hearing her speak of Jan. ForGlory Goldie did not disguise her real sentiments. Katrina knew itwas not from any sense of pity or remorse that Glory Goldie was sodetermined her father's body should rest in consecrated soil, butshe was afraid, unreasonably afraid while the one for whose deathshe was responsible still lay unburied at the bottom of the lake. She felt that if she could only get her father interred inchurchyard mould he would not be such a menace to her. But so longas he remained where he was she must live in constant terror ofhim and of the punishment he would mete out to her. 

Glory Goldie stood on the Borg pier looking down at the lake, whichwas now gray and turgid. Her gaze did not penetrate beneath thesurface of the water, yet she seemed to see the whole wide expanseof lake bottom underneath. 

Down there sat he, the Emperor of Portugallia, his hands claspedround his knees, his eyes fixed on the gray-green water--inconstant expectation that she would come to him. His imperialregalia had been discarded, for the stick and cap had never gonedown into the depths with him, and the paper stars had of coursebeen dissolved by the water. He sat there now in his old threadbarecoat with two empty hands. But there was no longer anythingpretentious or ludicrous about him; now he was only powerful andawe-inspiring. 

It was not without reason he had called himself an emperor. Sogreat had been his power in life that the enemy whose evil deeds hehated had been overthrown, while his friends had received help andprotection. This power he still possessed. It had not gone from himeven in death. 

Only two persons had ever wronged him. One of them had already methis doom. The other one was herself--his daughter who had firstdriven him out of his mind and had afterward caused his death. Herhe bided down there in the deep. His love for her was over. Now heawaited her not to render her praise and homage, but to drag herdown into the realms of death, as punishment for her heartlesstreatment of him. 

Glory Goldie had a weird temptation: she wanted to remove the heavycoffin lid and slide the coffin into the lake, as a boat, and thento get inside and push away from shore, and afterward stretchherself out on the bed of sawdust at the bottom of the coffin. 

She wondered whether she would sink instantly or whether she woulddrift a while, until the lashing waves filled her bark and drew itunder. She also thought that she might not sink at all but would becarried out to sea only to be cast ashore at one of the elm-edgedpoints. She felt strangely tempted to put herself to the test. Shewould lie perfectly still the whole time, she said to herself, anduse neither hand nor foot to propel the coffin. She would putherself wholly at the mercy of her judge; he might draw her down orlet her escape as he willed. 

If she were thus to seek his indulgence perhaps his great lovewould again speak to her; perhaps he would then take pity on herand grant her grace. But her fear was too great. She no longerdared trust in his love, and therefore she was afraid to put theblack coffin out on the lake. 

An old friend and schoolmate of Glory Goldie sought her out at thistime. It was August Där Nol of Prästerud, who was still livingunder the parental roof. 

August Där Nol was a quiet and sensible man whom it did her good totalk with. He advised her to go away and take up her oldoccupation. It was not well for her to haunt the desolate pier, watching for the return of a dead man, he said. Glory Goldieanswered that she would not dare leave until her father had beenlaid in consecrated ground. But August would not hear of this. Thefirst time he talked with her nothing was decided, but when he cameagain she promised to follow his advice. They parted with theunderstanding that he was to come for her the following day andtake her to the railway station in his own carriage. 

Had he done so possibly all would have gone smoothly. But he wasprevented from coming himself and sent a hired man with the team. All the same Glory Goldie got into the carriage and drove off. Onthe way to the station she talked with the driver about her fatherand encouraged him to relate stories of her father's clairvoyance, the ones Katrina had told her on the pier and still others. 

When she had listened a while she begged the driver to turn back. She had become so alarmed that she was afraid to go any farther. Hewas too powerful, was the old Emperor of Portugallia! She knew howthe dead that have not been buried in churchyard mould haunt andpursue their enemies. Her father would have to be brought up out ofthe water and laid in his coffin. God's Holy Word must be read overhim, else she would never know a moment's peace. 

JAN'S LAST WORDS

Along toward Christmas time Glory Goldie received word that hermother lay at the point of death. Then at last she tore herselfaway from the pier. 

She went home on foot, this being the best way to get to theAshdales--taking the old familiar road across Loby, then on throughthe big forest and over Snipa Ridge. When going past the oldHindrickson homestead she saw a big, broad-shouldered man, with astrong, grave-looking visage, standing at the roadside mending apicket fence. The man gave her a stiff nod as she went by. He stoodstill for a moment, looking after her, then hastened to overtakeher. 

"This must be Glory Goldie of Ruffluck, " he said as he came up withher. "I'd like to have a word with you. I'm Linnart, son of BjörnHindrickson, " he added, seeing that she did not know who he was. 

"I'm terribly pressed for time now, " Glory Goldie told him. "Soperhaps you'd better wait till another day. I've just learned thatmy mother is dying. "

Linnart Hindrickson then asked if he might walk with her part ofthe way. He said that he had thought of going down to the pier tosee her and now he did not want to miss this good opportunity ofspeaking with her, as it was very necessary that she should hearwhat he had to say. 

Glory Goldie made no further objections. She perceived, however, that the man had some difficulty in stating his business andconcluded it was something of an unpleasant nature. He hemmed andhawed a while, as if trying to find the right words; presently hesaid, with apparent effort:

"I don't believe you know, Glory Goldie, that I was the last personwho talked with your father--the Emperor, as we used to call him. "

"No, I did not know of this, " answered the girl, at the same timequickening her steps. She was thinking to herself that thisconversation was something she would rather have escaped. 

"One day last autumn, " Linnart continued, "while I was out in theyard hitching up a horse to drive over to the village shop, I sawthe Emperor come running down the road; he seemed in a great hurry, but when he espied me he stopped and asked if I had seen theEmpress drive by. I couldn't deny that I had. Then he burst outcrying. He had been on his way to Broby, he said, but such astrange feeling of uneasiness had suddenly come over him that hehad to turn back, and when he reached home he found the hutdeserted. Katrina was also gone. He felt certain his wife anddaughter were leaving by the boat and he didn't know how he shouldever be able to get down to the Borg pier before they were gone. "

Glory Goldie stood stock still. "You let him ride with you, ofcourse?" she said. 

"Oh, yes, " replied Linn art. "Jan once did me a good turn and Iwanted to repay it. Perhaps I did wrong in giving him a lift?"

"No, indeed!" said Glory Goldie. "It was I who did wrong inattempting to leave him. "

"He wept like a child the whole time he sat in the wagon. I didn'tknow what to do to comfort him, but at last I said, 'Don't cry likethat, Jan! We'll surely overtake her. Besides, these little freightsteamers that run in the autumn are never on time. ' No sooner had Isaid that than he laid his hand on my arm and asked me if I thoughtthey would be harsh and cruel toward the Empress--those who hadcarried her off. "

"Those who had carried me off!" repeated Glory Goldie inastonishment. 

"I was as much astonished at that as you are, " Linnart declared, "and I asked him what he meant. Well, he meant those who had lainin wait for the Empress while she was at home--all the enemies ofwhom Glory Goldie had been so afraid that she had not dared to puton her gold crown or so much as mention Portugallia, and who hadfinally overpowered her and carried her into captivity. "

"So that was it!"

"Yes, just that. You understand of course that your father did notweep because he had been deserted and left alone, but because hethought you were in peril. " It had been a little hard for Linnartto come out with the last few words; they wanted to stick in histhroat. Perhaps he was thinking of old Björn Hindrickson andhimself, for there was that in his own life which had taught himthe true worth of a love that never fails you. 

But Glory Goldie did not yet understand. She had thought of herfather only with aversion and dread since her return and mutteredsomething about his being a madman. 

Linnart heard what she said, and it hurt him. "I'm not so sure thatJan was mad!" he retorted. "I told him that I hadn't seen anygaolers around Glory Goldie. 'My good Linnart, ' he then said, 'didn't you notice how closely they guarded her when she drove by?They were Pride and Hardness, Lust and Vice, all the enemies shehas to battle against back there in her Empire. '"

Glory Goldie stopped a moment and turned toward Linnart. "Well?"was all she said. 

"I replied that these enemies I, too, had seen, " returned LinnartHindrickson curtly. 

The girl gave a short laugh. 

"But instantly I regretted having said that, " pursued the man. "Forthen Jan cried out in despair: 'Oh, pray to God, my dear Linnart, that I may be able to save the little girl from all evil! Itdoesn't matter what becomes of me, just so she is helped. '"

Glory Goldie did not speak, but walked on hurriedly. Something hadbegun to pull and tear at her heart strings--something she wastrying to force back. She knew that if that which lay hidden withinshould burst its bonds and come to the surface, she would breakdown completely. 

"And those were Jan's last words, " said Linnart. "It wasn't longafter that before he proved that he meant what he said. Don't thinkfor a moment that Jan jumped into the lake to get away from his ownsorrow; it was only to rescue Glory Goldie from her enemies that heplunged in after the boat. "

Glory Goldie tramped on, faster and faster. Her father's great lovefrom first to last now stood revealed to her. But she could notbear the thought of it and wanted to put it behind her. 

"We keep pretty well posted in this parish as to one another'sdoings, " Linnart continued. "There was much ill feeling againstyou at first, after the Emperor was drowned. I for my partconsidered you unworthy to receive his farewell message. But we allfeel differently now; we like your staying down at the pier towatch for him. "

Then Glory Goldie stopped short. Her cheeks burned and her eyesflashed with indignation. "I stay down there only because I'mafraid of him, " she said. 

"You have never wanted to appear better than you are. We know that. But we understand perhaps better than you yourself do what liesback of this waiting. We have also had parents and we haven'talways treated them right, either. "

Glory Goldie was so furious that she wanted to say somethingdreadful to make Linnart hush, but somehow she couldn't. All shecould do was to run away from him. 

Linnart Hindrickson made no attempt to follow her further. He hadsaid what he wanted to say and he was not displeased with thatmorning's work. 

THE PASSING OF KATRINA

Katrina lay on the bed in the little but at Ruffluck Croft, thepallor of death on her face, her eyes closed. It looked as if theend had already come. But the instant Glory Goldie reached herbedside and stood patting her hand, she opened her eyes and beganto speak. 

"Jan wants me with him, " she said, with great effort. "He doesn'thold it against me that I deserted him. "

Glory Goldie started. Now she knew why her mother was dying; shewho had been faithful a lifetime was grieving herself to death forhaving failed Jan at the last. 

"Why should you have to fret your heart out over that, when I wasthe one who forced you to leave him?" said Glory Goldie. 

"Just the same the memory of it has been so painful, " repliedKatrina. "But now all is well again between Jan and me. " Then sheclosed her eyes and lay very still, and into her thin, wan facecame a faint light of happiness. Soon she began to speak again, for there were things which had to be said; she could not findpeace until they were said. 

"Don't be so angry with Jan for running after you! He meant onlywell by you. Things have never been right with you since you and hefirst parted, and he knew it, too, nor with him either. You bothwent wrong, each in your own way. "

Glory Goldie had felt that her mother would say something of thissort, and had steeled herself beforehand. But her mother's wordsmoved her more than she realized, and she tried to say somethingcomforting. "I shall think of father as he was in the old days. Youremember what good friends we always were at that time. "

Katrina seemed to be satisfied with the response, for she settledback to rest once more. Apparently she had not intended to sayanything further. Then, all at once, she looked up at her daughterand gave her a smile that bespoke rare tenderness and affection. 

"I'm so glad, Glory Goldie, that you have grown beautiful again, "she said. 

For that smile and those words all Glory Goldie's self-control gaveway; she fell upon her knees beside the low bedstead, and wept. Itwas the first time since her homecoming that she had shed realtears. 

"Mother, I don't know how you can feel toward me as you do!" criedthe girl. "It's all my fault that you are dying, and I'm to blamefor father's death, too. "

Katrina, smiling all the while, moved her hands in a little caress. 

"You are so good, mother, " said Glory Goldie through her sobs. "Youare so good to me!"

Katrina gripped hard her daughter's hand and raised herself in bed, to give her final testimony. 

"All, that is good in me I have learned from Jan, " she declaredAfter which she sank back on her pillow and said nothing more thatwas clear or sensible. The death struggle had begun, and the nextmorning she passed away. 

But all through the final agony Glory Goldie lay weeping on thefloor beside her mother's bed; she wept away her anguish; herfever-dreams; her burden of guilt. There was no end to her tears. 

THE BURIAL OF THE EMPEROR

It was on the Sunday before Christmas they were to bury Katrina ofRuffluck. Usually on that particular Sabbath the church attendanceis very poor, as most people like to put off their church-goinguntil the great Holy Day services. 

When the few mourners from the Ashdales drove into the pine grovebetween the church and the town hall, they were astonished. Forsuch crowds of people as were assembled there that Sunday wererarely seen even when the Dean of Bro came to Svartsjö once a year, to preach, or at a church election. 

It went without saying that it was not for the purpose of followingold Katrina to her grave that every one to a man turned out. Something else must have brought them there. Possibly some greatpersonage was expected at the church, or maybe some clergyman otherthan the regular pastor was going to preach, thought the Ashdalesfolk, who lived in such an out-of-the-way corner that much couldhappen in the parish without their ever hearing of it. 

The mourners drove up to the cleared space behind the town hall, where they stepped down from the wagons. Here, as in the grove, they found throngs of people, but otherwise they saw nothing out ofthe ordinary. Their astonishment increased, but they felt loath toquestion any one as to what was going on; for persons who drive ina funeral procession are expected to keep to themselves and not toenter into conversation with those who have no part in the mourning. 

The coffin was removed from the hearse and placed upon two blacktrestles which had been set up just outside the town hall, wherethe body and those who had come with it were to remain until thebells began to toll and the pastor and the sexton were ready to gowith them to the churchyard. 

It was a stormy day. Rain came down in lashing showers and beatagainst the coffin. One thing was certain: it could never be saidthat fine weather had brought all these people out. 

But that day nobody seemed to mind the rain and wind. People stoodquietly and patiently under the open sky without seeking theshelter of either the church or the town hall. 

The six pall-bearers and others who had gathered around Katrinanoticed that there were two trestles there besides those on whichher coffin rested. Then there was to be another burial that day. This they had not known of before. Yet no funeral procession couldbe seen approaching. It was already so late that it should havebeen at the church by that time. 

When it was about ten minutes of ten o'clock and time to be movingtoward the churchyard, the Ashdales folk noticed that every onewithdrew in the direction of the Där Nol home, which was only twominutes' walk from the church. They saw then what they had notobserved before, that the path leading from the town hall to thehouse of Där Nol was strewn with spruce twigs and that a sprucetree had been placed at either side of the gate. Then it was fromthere a body was to be taken. They wondered why nothing had beensaid about a death in a family of such prominence. Besides, therewere no sheets put up at the windows, as there should be in a houseof mourning. 

Then, in a moment, the front doors opened and a funeral partyemerged. First came August Där Nol, carrying a crêped mace. Behindhim walked the six pall-bearers with the casket. And now all thepeople who had been standing outside the church fell into linebehind this funeral party. Then it was in order to do honour to_this_ person they had come. 

The coffin was carried down to the town hall and placed beside theone already there. August Där Nol arranged the trestles so that thetwo coffins would rest side by side. The second coffin was not sonew and shiny as Katrina's. It looked as if it had been washed bymany rains, and had seen rough handling, for it was both scratchedand broken at the edges. 

All the folk from the Ashdales suddenly caught their breath. Forthen they knew it was not a Där Nol that lay in this coffin! Andthey also knew that it was not for the sake of some stranger ofexalted rank that so many people had come out to church. Instantlyevery one looked at Glory Goldie, to see whether she understood. Itwas plain she did. 

Glory Goldie, pale and heart-broken, had been standing all thewhile by her mother's coffin, and as she recognized the one thathad been brought from the Där Nol home she was beside herself withjoy as one becomes when gaining something for which one has longbeen striving. However, she immediately controlled her emotion. Then, smiling wistfully, she lightly stroked the lid of Katrina'scoffin. 

"Now it has turned out as well for you as ever you could havewished, " she seemed to be saying to her dead mother. 

August Där Nol then stepped up to Glory Goldie and took her by thehand. "No doubt this arrangement is satisfactory to you, " he said. "We found him only last Friday. I thought it would be easier foryou this way. "

Glory Goldie stammered a few words, but her lips quavered so thatshe could hardly be understood. "Thanks. It's all right. I know hehas come to mother, and not to me. "

"He has come to you both, be assured of that, Glory Goldie!" saidAugust Där Nol. 

The old mistress of Falla, who was now well on toward eighty andbowed down by the weight of many sorrows, had come to the funeralout of regard for Katrina, who for many years had been her faithfulservant and friend. She had brought with her the imperial cap andstick, which had been returned to her after Jan's death. Sheintended to place them in the grave with Katrina, thinking the oldwoman would like to have with her some reminder of Jan. 

Presently Glory Goldie turned to the old mistress of Falla andasked her for the imperial regalia, and then she stood the longstick up against Jan's coffin and set the cap on top of the stick. Every one understood that she was sorry now that she had not wantedJan to deck himself out in these emblems of royalty and was tryingto make what slight amends she could. There is so little that onecan do for the dead!

Instantly the stick was placed there the bells in the church towerbegan ringing and the pastor, the sexton, and the verger came outfrom the vestry and took their places at the head of the funeralprocession. 

The rain came in showers that day, but it happened, luckily, thatthere was a let-up while the people formed into line--menfolkfirst, then womenfolk--to follow the two old peasants to theirgrave. Those who lined up looked a little surprised at their beingthere, for they did not feel any grief, nor did they careespecially to honour either of the dead. It was simply this: whenthe news was spread throughout the parish that Jan of Ruffluck hadcome back just in time to be buried with Katrina they had all feltthat there was something singularly touching and miraculous aboutthis, which made them want to come and see the old couple reunitedin death. And of course no one dreamed that the same thought wouldoccur to so many others. They felt that this was almost too much ofa demonstration for a couple of poor and lowly cotters. Peopleglanced at one another rather shamefacedly; but now that they werethere, there was nothing to do but go along to the churchyard. Then, as it occurred to them that this was just what the Emperor ofPortugallia would have liked, they smiled to themselves. 

Two mace-bearers (for there was also one from the Ashdales) walkedin front of the coffins, and the whole parish marched in thefuneral procession. It could not have been better had the Emperorhimself arranged for it. And they were not altogether certain thatthe whole thing was not his doing. He had become so wonderful afterhis death, had the old Emperor. He must have had a purpose inletting his daughter wait for him; a purpose in rising up out ofthe deep at just the right time--as sure as fate!

When they had all come up to the wide grave and the coffins hadbeen lowered into it, the sexton sang "My every step leads to thegrave. "

Sexton Blackie was now an old man. His singing reminded GloryGoldie of that of another old man, to whom she had not wanted tolisten. And the recollection of this brought with it bitteranguish; she pressed her hands to her heart and closed her eyes, soas not to betray her sufferings. 

And while she stood thus she saw before her her father as he hadbeen in her childhood, when he and she were such good friends andcomrades. She recognized his face as she had seen it one Sundaymorning after a blizzard, when the road was knee-deep with snow andhe had to carry her to church. She saw him again as he appeared theSunday she went to church in the red dress. No one had ever lookedkinder or happier than Jan did then. But after that day there hadbeen no more happiness for him, and she had never been quitecontented either. 

She strove to hold this face before her eyes. It did her good. There rose up in her such a strong wave of tenderness as she lookedat it! That face only wished her well. It was not something to befeared. This was just the old kind-hearted Jan of Ruffluck. Hewould never sit in judgment upon her; he would not bring misfortuneand suffering upon his only child. 

Glory Goldie had found peace. She had come into a world of love nowthat she could see her father as he was. She wondered how she couldever have imagined that he hated her; he, who only wanted toforgive! Wherever she was or wherever she went he would be there toprotect her; he had no thought or wish but that. 

Again she felt the great tenderness well up in her heart like amighty wave-filling her whole being. Then she knew that all waswell again between her father and her; that he and she were one, asin the old days. Now that she loved him, there was nothing to beatoned. 

Glory Goldie awoke as from a dream. While she had stood lookinginto her father's kindly face the pastor had performed the burialservice. Now he was addressing a few remarks to the people; hethanked them, one and all, for coming to this funeral. It was nogreat or distinguished man that had just been laid to rest, hesaid, but he was perhaps one who had borne the richest and warmestheart in these regions. 

When the pastor said this the people again glanced at one another. And now every one looked pleased and satisfied. The parson wasright: it was because of Jan's great heart they had come to thefuneral. 

Then the pastor spoke a few words to Glory Goldie. He said that shehad received greater love from her parents than had any one he knewof, and that such love could only turn to blessing. 

At this everybody looked over at Glory Goldie, and they allmarvelled at what they saw. The pastor's saying had already cometrue. For there, at the grave of her parents, stood Glory GoldieSunnycastle, who had been named by the Sun itself, shining like onetransfigured! She was as beautiful now as on that Sunday when shecame to church in the red dress, if not more beautiful.