"And I will make thee beds of roses,And then a thousand fragrant posies,A cap of flowers, and a kirtleEmbroidered all with leaves of myrtle."The Complete Angler.
John Hardy had risen early, and had time before breakfast to inspect the surroundings of the little Danish parsonage. The house was low, of two stories, with a large cellarage underneath, in which was stored articles of all kinds that might be injured by the frost of winter. The roof was brown tiles, with a high pitch, so that the snow should slip off easily. The chief entrance was through a little shrubbery surrounded by a white-washed wall leading up to a few steps to the front door. The living rooms were to the left of the inner hall, and the Pastor's study to the right, which was so arranged that access was easy from the front door, or by passing through an inner vestibule to the back of the house. The kitchen was to the rear of the left side, and the outbuildings, whichconsisted of stables for cows, horses, and sheep, were to the back of the main building. The Pastor had two horses, for the farm work of his glebe, and these were used for journeys to the railway station or elsewhere in an old four-wheel conveyance, which could scarcely be termed a carriage or a waggon. In fact, it answered both purposes. The rooms were warmed by iron stoves, in the winter, the fuel used being chiefly wood and turf. The Pastor had a sort of turbary right, which supplied him with the latter. The shrubbery in front of the main building was planted with poplars, lilacs, and laburnum. The grass on the lawn was coarse and rough, and an occasional cow was tethered on it, which did not improve the quality of the herbage.
The income from all sources of Pastor Lindal was small, according to English views, but it was sufficient to enable him to maintain a happy home and to do his duty to his parish with strict economy. The difficulty was the future of his sons and daughter.
After breakfast, in which the trout caught by Hardy the previous evening occupied a conspicuous position, the Pastor said—
"When you return I shall be interested, Herr Hardy, to hear your views of Rosendal. The place is, as I told you, Danish; but I should like to hear how it looks through English spectacles."
"You have told me, Herr Pastor," said Hardy, "that Frøken Helga has an enthusiasm for Rosendal.I fear I shall be interested thereby, as she goes with us."
Hardy looked at Frøken Helga, who looked annoyed; and he saw he had said something which displeased her.
The way to Rosendal was over the sandy road for two English miles, when the entrance gate was reached, leading up an avenue of lime trees that had been pollarded. The storms would certainly have pollarded them in a more irregular manner than the hand of man. The house was a much larger house than Pastor Lindal's parsonage, but after the same fashion. The entrance steps were wider, but the whole arrangement of the mansion was after the same plan. There was the same too near proximity of the stables and cow houses, possibly essential in cold weather, for their being attended to. The view from the front of the house was to a lake of about thirty acres. On each side of the lake were very large beech trees, with juniper bushes underneath; and the effect was, as the Pastor had said, idyllic. A narrow valley was planted with roses, and through it a path led to the lake, hence the name Rosendal. The beech trees were of great age, and the rising ground on each side had protected them from the prevailing winds. The effect on the eye, in comparison with the nakedness of the surrounding country, was forcible, and John Hardy was impressed by the natural and distinctive beauty of the place.
Frøken Helga had scarcely replied to his attempts at conversation on the way to Rosendal. She had run races with her brothers and entered into all their whims and caprices, but to John Hardy she had only replied in monosyllables; but when she saw the effect the beauty of the place had on Hardy, she said—
"Is it not a pretty place?"
"It has its peculiar beauty, Frøken Helga," replied Hardy.
"I would rather live here than any place I know," said Helga. "The peace and calm of the beech woods, and the fret of the wind waves on the shore of the lake, suggest thoughts that are unspeakable to me."
Hardy started. She had spoken in a simple manner, but he felt that she experienced all she uttered. He now understood Pastor Lindal's words that Rosendal was Helga's enthusiasm. Then there was an appreciation of nature and her mysteries that Hardy had thought impossible out of English refinement and its influence.
"Can we go through the house?" said Hardy, as if with a sudden determination. "I wish to see it."
"The Forvalter or bailiff lives in the house, and if he is not at home his wife is, or their servant," replied Helga.
The house had reception-rooms after the older Danish fashion, and were such as could be made comfortable, even to an English tenant. John Hardyasked the bailiff's wife if she could point out the boundary of the property; and this was done from the rising ground behind the house. A visit to the valley of roses was made, and a stroll through the beech woods. Karl and Axel had ran to the shores of the lake, and had hunted along its banks to find wild ducks' eggs, happily without success.
On the way back to Pastor Lindal's parsonage, John Hardy attempted a conversation with Frøken Helga; but it failed utterly. She talked with her brothers and walked with them. Hardy saw he was avoided. He had seen the same conduct in young girls in France, and attributed it to the same reason, and said nothing more.
The Pastor, when his pipe had been, as usual, filled by Helga after dinner, and at the first vigorous puffs, addressed Hardy.
"Let me hear about Rosendal, Herr Hardy. I can listen, but when Helga has filled my pipe, can make any allowance then, for anybody's prejudices, even an Englishman's."
"Rosendal is a place with an accidental, peculiar beauty," said Hardy. "The configuration of the land is adapted to form a shelter to the beech trees, while the little lake is just in the right place to produce a pretty effect. The landscape is, as you say, a Jutland landscape; the grass in the meadows is coarse, and the arable land sandy."
"You speak like a photograph, Herr Hardy," saidPastor Lindal. "But did you not like the house and grounds?"
"The house is Danish, of a past fashion," replied Hardy, "and there is no difference in plan from your parsonage. The stables and outhouses are too near the house, and so is the kitchen garden; it may be convenient, but it is not to our English taste. The grounds are not made the best of; but this is a subject in which the climate must be consulted. The specimen trees we use for the purpose would, many of them, grow dwarfed, or not at all."
"I have heard much of the English taste in this respect," said the Pastor. "I should like to see an English residence, in contrast to our dear Rosendal."
"That you can judge of by some photographs of Hardy Place, my residence in England," said Hardy. "I will fetch them."
He shortly after appeared with a set of four photographs, and a strong reading-glass.
"There," said Hardy, "is the front of Hardy Place. You will observe the arrangement of the lawn, and you will see the fineness of the turf, which you will see nowhere else than in England. The conservatory is to the right of the front entrance, to be sheltered from the east wind; the house faces south. You will see by these other photographs different views of the house and its surroundings. The stables and gardens, for vegetables and fruit, are at some distance; while the home farm, equivalent to your Bondegaard, is anEnglish mile distant. This gives greater privacy; while at Rosendal, the stables and house and farm are practically under one roof."
"Herr Hardy would say, father, that we Danes want the refinement of the English," said Frøken Helga, who did not like the correct criticism of a place she loved so well.
"When I asked you the name of the owner of Rosendal," said Hardy, looking at her, "the answer I received from you might have led my thoughts in that direction, Frøken Helga."
"I gave no answer!" retorted Helga.
"Just so," said Hardy, smiling.
Helga understood him.
The Pastor and his two boys had been looking at the photographs with much interest. "It is a Slot [a palace], and there is good taste throughout. And do you live there, Herr Hardy?"
"Yes," replied Hardy, "except when I take a foreign tour. My mother resides there. My father died when I was young. But would not Frøken Helga like to see the photographs?"
Helga did not look up from the knitting, which was her constant employment every spare moment; so Hardy addressed himself to her father, as if he had not put the question.
"Before I came here," said Hardy, "I read in theBerlinske Tidendean advertisement for the sale of Rosendal, which to-day appears to be the same place.
"Yes," said Pastor Lindal. "It is the property of a Baron Krag; he will sell it if he can obtain about double its value. He has the argument on his side, that it is an exceptional place, and should sell at an exceptional price; hitherto he has not found a buyer on these terms. The property is small in extent."
About a week after this conversation, John Hardy received the following letter from Copenhagen:—
"I was honoured by your letter of the 10th of this month, and, in pursuance of your wishes, called at the Bank and enquired of you, and presented your letter, requesting them to give me information about you. They replied that they had heard from your London bankers that you had a considerable sum at your disposition in their hands, and that your yearly income was considerable, and that any services I rendered you would be promptly paid for. I accordingly send particulars of Rosendal, which I have already procured for other clients; and I send sketch of the estate. The price is much in excess of its value, 300,000 kroner (18 kroner is equal to £1 sterling). The price that has been bid is 200,000 kroner, and possibly an advance may be obtained on that. I wish to point out to you that 200,000 kroner is beyond the value of Rosendal in an economical sense, and the same money in the Danish funds would yield twice the income.
"The cows, horses, and sheep, agricultural implements, all go to the purchaser. The land is managed by a bailiff, and the sources of income are chiefly fromthe sale of butter, barley, and produce. There is a small tile works; and a certain quantity of turf can be sold yearly. The income is therefore uncertain.
"I think it also my duty to lay clearly before you, that if you wish to introduce any alteration in our Danish system of farming, that it would not be successful. There would be a passive antagonism with the people, who, if you let them be steered by a good bailiff, would give you no trouble. In the direction of any improvement, however, new agricultural implements from England of the simpler kind would be well received and adopted. The Danish cattle also are suitable to the country, and the introduction of English high class-breeds might not answer.
"If you did not reside at Rosendal, the bailiff's accounts could be checked either by me or any other person you thought proper, and the place visited twice yearly, to report the condition and the state of the property.
"I will ascertain the exact sum that will be accepted, if you desire it; but it will take time—negotiations for large properties are often much protracted in Denmark.
"I wait, therefore, the honour of your reply, and respectfully greet you.
"Obediently,"Axel Steindal,"Prokuratør."
"Many a oneOwes to his country his religion,And in another, would as strongly growHad but his mother or his nurse taught him so."The Complete Angler.
The church at Vandstrup lay on rising ground from the river. It was white-washed, covered with red tiles, and surrounded by a white-washed wall enclosing God's acre, in which so many slept the last long sleep. There were a few poplars planted close to the church-yard wall, and a few weather-beaten ash trees, with a single dwarfed weeping willow over a grave. On Sunday, John Hardy watched with interest the church-going people collecting by the church gate. The men in dark Wadmel jackets with bright buttons, and the women with red ribands bound on their caps and knitted sleeves. The women left their wooden shoes in the dry ditch by the roadside, and put on leather shoes, and waited for the Pastor's arrival. Accuracy of time was not expected, and only when the Pastor appeared did the men throng into the church on oneside and the women on the other. The interior of the church was simple to a degree. John Hardy with Karl and Axel sat on the men's side, and Frøken Helga and Kirstin on the other. The service was similar to that of the English Protestant service, although relics of what would be now called Romanism remained. There were candles on the altar, and the Pastor chanted some portion of the service. John Hardy longed for the sermon. The thorough honest feeling exhibited by the Pastor's character in his home, with his evident refinement and education, had excited his curiosity as to what the sermon would be.
The text of the sermon was from the fifth chapter of St. Matthew, part of ver. 42: "Give to him that asketh thee!"
"When a man comes and asks anything of you, what should you give? The best thing is sympathy and love; material gifts he may want, but these kindliness will dictate, and kindliness is the real gold of life. If no power exists to give what is necessary to assist your neighbour in a material sense, yet to your ability give; and if you give at all, give kindly. Those of you who want not material things, yet may want kind sympathy when God smiteth with sorrow. Recollect, then, that that is the time for kindliness to be proved that is golden."
This was the epitome of the sermon, and John Hardy could not hear a sound in the church, so intently was it listened to.
"I could understand your sermon, Herr Pastor," said Hardy; "it was preached in such simple Danish, and I liked it. But what interested me was the earnestness with which you were listened to: every word was heard by every one of your congregation, and I could see felt."
"It was not always so," said Pastor Lindal. "I have won the sympathy and friendship of the children of my parish by years of work amongst them. The character of the Jutland people is suspicious—there is a strange mixture of shrewdness and stolidity; they are slow to appreciate, but when once their sympathy is won, they are fast friends. It is impossible for a sermon to have any effect without you have won their friendship on other days than Sundays."
John Hardy said nothing, but he thought that the application was true to other lands than Denmark, particularly England.
The Pastor had to perform another service at an Annex Kirke (a subsidiary church), and left after a short meal to do so. Frøken Helga went to her room, and Karl and Axel implored Hardy to go fishing; but he refused. "It is not right to do so," he said; "we have to keep the Sunday, and fishing is not keeping the Sunday."
"But everybody does here, and more than, other days," said Karl.
"That may be," said Hardy; "but I cannot do what I do not think is right."
Kirstin was present and heard this conversation, and it met her evident approval. She told the boys that the Englishman must not be teased on a Sunday, that he might wish to read his Bible, and that he must not be disturbed. The boys left the room in bad humour.
"Kirstin," said Hardy, "my being here will, I dare say, give you more trouble, and I wish to recognize it. I am an Englishman accustomed to many servants, and may be careless of what trouble I give. You must not judge me by what is the custom in Denmark. Here is forty kroner; will you kindly give what you think fit to others in the house, and keep the rest yourself?"
"No," said Kirstin, "I will have no money. Herr Pastor says you will pay for your stay here by teaching, and it rests with him; also it is too much."
Hardy had to pocket his money again with a dissatisfied look, but Kirstin understood him; and his face, on which nature had written "gentleman," and which she had closely observed since Hardy's arrival, appealed to her.
"I have seen the gentleman," said Kirstin, "look at Frøken Helga, and I will tell the gentleman something that may serve him. Frøken Helga can never marry. Her duty is to her father and her brothers, and she knows and feels that."
John Hardy was not in love with Frøken Helga; but yet this simple Jutland peasant had divined whatmight occur, and had forewarned him. The explanation of Helga's conduct towards him was clear. He saw that she daily visited the people in the parish, and told the Pastor what was necessary to tell him, and that her usefulness in the parsonage and in every corner of it was a want that she filled. Kirstin understood all this, and saw that it could not be interrupted without a breach of duty.
John Hardy went to his room, and did not come out of it until they were all assembled that Sunday evening in the little dining-room.
The Pastor was tired, but very conversational; and when his great porcelain pipe had been filled as usual by Helga with Kanaster, he said, "I was struck by your evident interest in our service; but I was pleased to hear that you refused to go fishing with Karl and Axel, because the sabbath should be kept. Now, we have not that view, although it is the best view; and I say frankly that if you had taken the boys fishing, I should have not objected; but you said you felt it was not right, and I honour the thought. There is with us in Denmark a strong feeling against the Established Church, and a political question arose some years ago which will well illustrate it. On the 7th of January, 1868, a bill was brought before our Lower House of Parliament as to military service, and the question was raised whether theological candidates should be eligible for military service. The issue was raised in the Lower House of Representativesand fought there. It then passed into the Higher House of Representatives, and was fought there. The strife was long and intensely bitter, the greater part of the population of Denmark becoming partisans for or partisans against the clerical party. After the fight in the Higher House, it was again referred to the Lower, and refought there, and so again to the Higher House, with two interludes of appeals to the country. The clerical party described the position of the clergy in a florid style. They declaimed that poets and painters had represented the life of a Danish priest as a beautiful idyl, each scene in relative harmony with surrounding nature, whose heart is not touched as wandering in the path-fields he hears the bells of the country church ringing in the morning of the sabbath. How lovely is the little white church, with its red roof and quaint gables, amidst its woods and meadows! The little parsonage standing in its own garden, with a little belt of trees close to the church, while around it flock the little country houses, as a hen gathers her chickens. Nothing is more exquisite than the perfect affection and peace that exists between the country clergyman and his congregation. He is the teacher of the young, the comforter of the old, in each house a welcome guest, and the estimation in which his holy calling is held invests him with respect. In spiritual need or worldly care every one of his congregation hasten to their minister. He is the curer of souls, adviser, father, friend. Thehomes of his flock are his own, and it is his pride to confer happiness and promote contentment."
"That is a bright picture," said Hardy.
"Yes," said Pastor Lindal; "but the opposite party drew another, which attracted many partisans. They said his reverence has a good time of it. He has a house which is better than a Danish farmer's, and a farm which is just as good. He has horses, cows, pigs, sheep, and poultry. He has, moreover, tithes and dues of many kinds; and besides these, it is necessary to stick a dollar in his fist whenever one must make use of him. Whilst the Danish farmer has to sweat behind his plough, the clergyman sits at his ease smoking his pipe in his study, and has nothing more to do than to preach on a Sunday, and to hear the children read once a week. Everything that is congenial to the taste of the Danish farmer, the clergyman turns up his nose at. He abuses the leaders of the people, and only reads conservative newspapers, and on election days he votes against all his parish. The farmer maintains and pays him, but his conviction is that he is better than any farmer. What, therefore, can be more stiff-necked of him than to refuse to serve his country with his own, reverend person? Off with his black coat and clap on a red, and let the corporal teach him. He is a learned fellow, but, doubtless, stupid at drill."
"That last," said Hardy, "is a reference to Holberg's play of 'Erasmus Montanus.'"
"Yes," said Pastor Lindal; "and it amused the country. But they got hold of another idea, and tore it to shreds: they said if the flock goes to war, the shepherd should not be absent. The result, however, was that theological candidates are liable to military service, and it makes a difference of possibly twenty men yearly. It, however, proves one thing, and that is, the Lower House had got hold of the clerical gown, and were determined, with bull-dog tenacity, to rend it."
"A similar question in England," said Hardy, "would have produced the same result."
"That I can well believe," said the Pastor; "but with you a congregation can be sold to the highest bidder, and is. There is no thought in England of adjusting the payment for church work to the work done, and so long as this exists it is a dangerous feature."
"Without doubt," said Hardy.
Before going to bed, Hardy said to Frøken Helga, "Good night," as he had done on previous nights, without more than a bow; but to his surprise she held out her hand, and said—
"Thank you, Herr Hardy; I have rarely seen my father so interested to talk with any one, and it is kind of you to interest him."
"It is the contrary, Frøken Helga; he interests me," said Hardy.
"Hunting trains up the younger nobility to the use of manly exercises in their riper age."—The Complete Angler.
To John Hardy the days passed pleasantly at the little Danish parsonage. He taught the boys English a short time daily, and their bright faces and strong desire to learn made Hardy interested in their progress. If they were inclined to be inattentive, which was rare, the hint that he should not take them with him fishing secured earnest and immediate attention. The Pastor saw that the boys made progress in learning English with Hardy, and he himself taught them several hours daily, or, if he were absent, he set them work to do, and his daughter Helga sat in the room until the Pastor returned.
Hardy accompanied him in his visits to his Sognebørn (literally, parish children), and he gradually became acquainted with the Danish farmers, and was known in the parish as Præsten's Englænder, or the parson's Englishman. He was amused by the habits of many of the men, in treating him as if he was aharmless idiot, to be humoured and always answered in the affirmative. Stories were told him of how in some parts of the river there were trout et Par Alen long (about four feet), but to amuse the idiot for the moment.
The peculiarity of knickerbockers received much consideration, and it was a frequent question if Hardy adopted that dress for a sickness in his legs. Hardy's knowledge of farming and the management of cattle, particularly horses, was an unfailing source of conversation. There are many good horses bred in Jutland for sale in England, Germany, and Sweden. The original breed appeared to Hardy to be either Hungarian or Polish. These horses are well adapted for light carriage work; and many a horse foaled on a Jutland farm has been in a London carriage, to the considerable profit of the importer.
The evenings at the parsonage passed in conversation with the Pastor, who held a sort of tobacco parliament. Hardy was a good listener, and was anxious to perfect himself in the Danish language. Frøken Helga knitted and listened. The boys learned lessons or played games. The Pastor liked to hear his daughter sing; but it would be doing that worthy man strong injustice to say he liked the piano, which was very old and worse than worthless. It was to Hardy's ear torture to hear it in contrast with Frøken Helga's clear voice. At last he could stand it no longer, and the matter came to a crisis.
"Herr Pastor," said Hardy, "when at the exhibition of Copenhagen, of your national industry, I was much struck by the tone of a piano by a Copenhagen maker, and I have ordered one, and I shall be much indebted to you if you will allow it to be sent here until I return to England."
"There will be much extra expense attached to that plan," replied the Pastor, "and, besides, it might get injured here."
"Those considerations I am fully prepared for," said Hardy; "but if I may take the leaf from my mouth, as you Danes say, or speak plainly, your piano is worn out, and is spoiling Frøken Helga's ear and taste for music. Her voice is excellent, and rings as clearly as a silver bell; but then the jingle of the piano is like the toothache."
"We are all accustomed to it," said the Pastor; "but I only hear Helga's voice."
So the piano appeared, and a man to tune it, and Frøken Helga played it. The tone was good, and the Pastor listened to the old Danish songs he had heard so many times with delight.
One evening Helga had to make a visit to a sick woman, and the Pastor puffed away at his teacup of a pipe, with longer puffs than usual. Hardy saw there was something in the way, and at last it struck him that he missed his daughter's song. He had once told Hardy that her voice was like her mother's.
Hardy sat down to the piano, and played andsang an English ballad, and then another. He then sang a plaintive German song, with a manly pathos and taste, that showed the well-bred gentleman he was.
The Pastor applauded loudly, and Hardy turned round, and, lo! there was Frøken Helga, with a look on her face that Hardy never forgot, so intense was her surprise.
"Helga," said her father, "go and thank Herr Hardy for his singing to me instead of you; he saw I missed you, my child, and he sang to divert me."
"A thousand thanks!" said Helga, using a common Danish expression. "I never heard so beautiful a song! But why did you not tell us that you could play and sing before?"
"Because I preferred Frøken Helga's voice to that of Præsten's Englænder," said Hardy.
Nothing would induce Frøken Helga to sing that evening; her father almost commanded her, but she would not. At last she said, "I cannot, father; Herr Hardy sings too well."
This speech was not forgotten for a long time, and Karl and Axel teased their sister with perpetual questions as to whether they or she was not doing something or other too well. If Karl caught no trout, he explained to his sister that he was afraid of fishing too well. If Axel had dirty hands, his explanation was that he was afraid of washing them too well.
John Hardy had visited the Gudenaa withinwalking distance, or boating distance, and he wished to make longer expeditions from the parsonage. He inspected several of the farms near, and at last arranged with farmer Niels Jacobsen to rent stabling for three horses. He then wrote the following letter, addressed to a groom at Hardy Place:—
"Robert Garth,
"I want you to bring Buffalo to me in Denmark. The horse is to be taken to Harwich, and thence on board the steamer for Esbjerg. The steamers are fitted up with stables for horses, and there will be no difficulty. When you come to Esbjerg, take train to Horsens, where I will meet you. A telegram must be sent me to Vandstrup Præstegaard, to say when you will arrive at Horsens. Bring two hunting saddles and bridles, and some of the snaffle bits that I like.
"Show this letter to the steward, and he will let you have what money he thinks is necessary for your journey.
"Yours truly,
"John Hardy."
In little more than a week, Buffalo and Robert Garth were in Niels Jacobsen's stables.
Buffalo was a good English-bred horse, a good jumper, with a chest like a wall, and hind-quarters up to weight. Niels Jacobsen and his neighbours had collected and criticized.
"Gild bevars! sikken en Hest!" ["God preserve us, what a horse!"] said Niels, sucking away at his pipe, with a chorus echoing the same words from his neighbours. There was no doubt of their approval, and Buffalo had a succession of visitors and admirers for days.
Hardy had communicated to Pastor Lindal that he intended to have one of his horses and a groom from England, and had great difficulty in preventing the Pastor turning out his own small stable to make room for Buffalo; but this Hardy would not allow. Robert Garth lodged at Jacobsen's, and Hardy, with that thoughtfulness he always had for those about him, arranged for his man's meals and sleeping quarters as nearly as possible to an English groom's notions.
"Well, Bob," said Hardy, "you will shake down after a bit; but what I want you to do is, to help me to pick out a pair of light carriage horses from here. I have seen a lot, and you will have plenty to choose from. They will suit my mother, and I wish to take them over as a present to her."
"I have seen some of them Danish horses," said Robert Garth, "and not half bad horses either; but it is the infernal lingo. They keep smoking them big wood pipes, and when they don't smoke they chews, and then they spits."
"Where did you see any Danish horses?" asked Hardy.
"At Sir Charles'; he had a pair, hardly up to fifteen hands, but very pretty steppers, with a thinish mane, a trifle small below the knee," said Garth.
"That's the very thing," said Hardy.
As soon as it was known that the priest's Englishman wanted to buy two Jutland horses, plenty offered; and Karl and Axel were intensely interested in the trial of the horses, which went on in a rough piece of land close to the parsonage.
When the horses were brought up, Hardy mounted one, and Robert Garth criticized. Hardy put the horse through its paces, and if his judgment was not favourable, it was declined; but if doubtful. Garth rode it, and Hardy looked on. A couple of horses were thus selected, and both had Robert Garth's unqualified approval.
"They are both as handsome as paint, and as sound as bells," said Garth.
"Are you a horse-dealer?" asked Pastor Lindal, of Hardy, one evening.
"No, certainly not," replied Hardy.
"You have shown every qualification for it," said the Pastor.
"Possibly," said Hardy. "I see I have done this also too well. I only wanted the horses for my mother's carriage. She likes an open light carriage, and it is difficult to procure really good horses in England of a suitable size. The horses I have bought will suit her exactly, if we have good luck with them; that is, that they turn out well, and we have noaccident with them. I shall buy a light four-wheel carriage at Horsens, and my groom will drive them, and we shall then see if it be necessary to discard either or both, before they are taken to England."
"But why did you send for a horse from England?" said Pastor Lindal, to whom a horse was a horse and a cow was a cow.
"I fear because I like a good horse," replied Hardy. "Your Jutland horses are not adapted to the saddle, except for lady's hacks, or light carriage work; my English horse would jump the ditches that abound in your Danish fields, and would, for instance, jump your garden wall."
"That I am sure no horse can," said the Pastor, decidedly.
"Does he mean, father," said Frøken Helga, "that his horse can jump our garden wall?"
"Yes," said Hardy; "it is scarcely five feet. But will you promise, Frøken Helga, that if my horse does jump the wall, that you will not say that the horse does it too well? It is not me, but the horse that jumps the wall."
Helga looked annoyed at the reference made to her saying that he sang and played too well for any one to follow after him, but she said nothing.
Karl and Axel had listened. They too thought it impossible; but they believed in Hardy.
"Well, Karl," said Hardy, "don't you believe in me and the English horse?"
"No," said Karl. "A horse cannot jump the garden wall by himself, much more with a man on his back; no horse could do it. But I believe you can do anything."
"Well, Herr Pastor," said Hardy, "I have no one who believes in me or my horse. Frøken Helga regards me with suspicion; and no one in Jutland appears to believe more than they see."
"Yes; but it is impossible," said Pastor Lindal.
The next day after breakfast, Buffalo and one of the Danish horses were taken to the parsonage by Robert Garth. Buffalo had an English saddle on, and looked fully recovered from his journey to Denmark, and fit for anything. The Pastor, his daughter, and his two boys came out to see the English horse. Frøken Helga had not seen it before, and it struck her as being the handsomest horse she had ever seen; and she observed the respect the English groom showed Hardy.
"What do you think of the oats, Bob?" said Hardy.
"First-rate," said Garth, touching his hat; "they have picked Buffalo up wonderful, and he is fit to go anywhere."
Hardy mounted his horse. His mother had sent over his hunting breeches, and when mounted, the Pastor was struck with the manly figure of the quiet-mannered Englishman.
"The horse will not take even such a jump as yourgarden wall," said Hardy, "in cold blood. I will give him a gallop down the field below, and then bring him up and jump the wall. You will see the grand spread of his stride as he gallops."
Hardy rode like an English country gentleman accustomed to the saddle, and the great wide strides taken by Buffalo even the Pastor observed with astonishment. Suddenly Hardy turned and came at the garden wall, with Buffalo well in hand, who rose to the jump and cleared it easily, and out through a break in the shrubbery over the wall at the other side.
Hardy rode quietly in through the entrance gate and dismounted. It was clear, by the demeanour of the English groom, that he saw nothing unusual in what had passed; but it was very different with the Danish family. The boys cheered, but Frøken Helga had disappeared.
"If you were not accustomed to do this," said the Pastor, "I should consider it was not right to risk so good a horse and your own limbs. A fall must be dangerous to you and your horse."
"Yes; a fall would be, and is," said Hardy. "I have broken my arm and a collar-bone by falls when hunting."
"Now, Herr Pastor," added Hardy, "you will see the difference between my English horse and one of the best horses we could buy here."
"He can't jump a yard, master," said Garth; "it is no use trying him."
Hardy mounted the Danish horse, and the difference was apparent in pace and action.
"Bob," said Hardy, "they are no use for saddle horses, except for ladies; but they will do well for what we bought them."
"Right you are, master!" said Garth, as Hardy remounted Buffalo, and went for a ride.
"Next, note that the eel seldom stirs in the day, but then hides himself; and therefore is usually caught by night, with one of those baits of which I have spoken."—The Complete Angler.
The two Danish horses were driven by Garth, and, in his hands, soon grew accustomed to harness and the light carriage John Hardy had purchased at Horsens. Longer expeditions were made to fish the smaller Danish streams, and, to the great gratification of Karl and Axel, to Silkeborg. The lakes at Silkeborg, with their idyllic picturesqueness, interested Hardy, while the pike and the perch fishing yielded good sport. Hardy was skilful in spinning a heavy minnow deep in the water, casting it from a boat, and thus attracting the heaviest perch. A paternoster also in his hands caught a quantity of perch. Pike were caught by casting a dead roach, with a rod with upright rings, and Hardy threw his bait with a length and certainty that the Danish fishermen were not accustomed to. The bait would fall into a little spot of water amongst the reeds. A jerk and pull made the dead fish appearlike a wounded live one; when out would rush HerrEsox luciusfrom his lair, and, after expostulating in the usual manner, would come into the boat with the sullen look of how-I-should-like-to-bite-the-calf-of-your-leg, peculiar to Herr Esox's genus.
The Danish fishermen at Silkeborg began to entertain the notion that John Hardy, if his stay was prolonged, would depopulate the lakes of both pike and perch; and they hugged the idea with affection that at least he could not catch eels, with which the lakes abound.
"Can you catch eels, Herr Hardy?" said Karl. "The fishermen say you may be able to catch pike and perch, but you do not know how to catch eels with a line in the lakes."
"Yes," replied Hardy, "if you and Axel will undertake to take them off the hooks when caught; it is not an agreeable bit of work."
"Yes, that will we," said Karl and Axel at once.
They had then no idea of the difficulty of getting off the slime of an eel from their clothes, and what very pointed personal remarks would be made by Kirstin, when they returned to Vandstrup Præstegaard.
The preparations for catching eels with lines was of immense interest to the boys. Hardy had several stakes made with sharpened ends. The stakes were driven into a shallow part of the lake, and a line attached to each, of about thirty yards' length. The line was a cotton one, with copper wire twisted in it;and to each line, at the distance of every six feet, was attached a strong gimp hook, baited with a dead minnow. The lines were laid down at dusk, with a weight at the end of about half a pound. A boat was chartered, and the lines visited at intervals the half part of the night. By drawing the line, it was easy to detect if an eel was on the line. The result was the constant employment of Karl and Axel in taking eels off the lines; and the next day their clothes were white and shiny, with slime from the eels.
"You are so good to us, Herr Hardy," said Karl, "I wish you would live always with us."
"We do not live only to catch fish," said Hardy; "each of us has his duty and work to do; but there is no reason why we should not enjoy the beautiful world God has given us, when we do our duty first. My duty I know; yours you have yet to learn."
These simple words had a strong impression on the two lads, and were never forgotten; and when Karl and Axel returned to their father's house, they told him what Hardy had said, and he never forgot it either.
"I think," said the Pastor to his daughter, "that Herr Hardy is as good as he is kind."
One little circumstance that now occurred it is necessary to mention. Hardy had been some time at the parsonage, and he therefore offered to pay what he had agreed to pay for his board and lodging.
The Pastor refused to accept payment, "Youhave come here, and whilst here have repaid us again and again by your kind ways and manners. My two boys have grown in a few weeks to be gentle and considerate in their conduct. They were rough and wild before. You have taught them English, and their progress has astonished me. I have taught them daily, but you have succeeded in teaching more in a few weeks than I have years. I cannot repay this. I can only say I will receive no money of yours."
"But I am well able to pay the moderate sum you stated that was your wish I should pay, and I will pay it with pleasure."
"That may be," said the Pastor, "but the principle is the same. I could not honestly take anything from you."
"Then I must leave," said Hardy; "I could not remain here at your charge. I see I put you to more expenditure than is usual with you, and I could not continue to do so."
"You are, of course, at liberty to leave when you wish," said the Pastor; "but if you will give way in this, I shall feel I have at least recognized in the only way in my power what you have done for me and mine."
There was no doubt of the sincerity of the Pastor's meaning. His open face was as clear to read as print.
Frøken Helga was present at this interview, and Hardy looked at her in the hope of finding in herexpression as to what he should do. She was knitting as usual. He thought there was a feeling that she wished the matter should drop, so Hardy said—
"Well, Herr Pastor, all I can say is that the money is at your disposition, and if you refuse to take it when I go away I shall pay it to the Fattigkasse (poor box); and I must insist I have done nothing more than any Englishman would do."
"Good, very good!" said the Pastor. "Let us shake hands, and there is an end of it."
As Hardy took the Pastor's hand, he thought Frøken Helga's face bore an expression of approval, but her retiring manner made it impossible to discover what her thoughts really were.
A few days after, at breakfast, the Pastor said to Hardy, "There is an invitation for you to go to Gods-eier (landowner) Jensen's. They are going to celebrate their silver wedding. They have also invited me and my daughter Helga. Jensen breeds horses, and his reason for asking you is probably because he has heard of your English horse. Niels Jacobsen has talked with him about it. He saw him at a market some days ago. You can, of course, decline; and, at any rate, you can do as you wish. We shall go because they are friends of ours, and it would be a want of respect not to go on such an occasion as a silver wedding. There will be several persons there, and there will be a dinner at about three, and a dance after, in which the younger people will join."
"Thank you," said Hardy; "I should like to see more of Danish society, and I should wish to go for that reason."
John Hardy did not say that he had a strong wish to see Frøken Helga in society. He had seen her only at home, perpetually knitting and occupied in the management of the affairs of the parsonage. He observed, when she expressed a wish, that neither the wayward boys nor the strong-minded Kirstin had the least thought of acting in opposition to it, and he felt an interest in the opportunity of seeing her in society, and observing whether there would be the same unbending nature.
The invitation was therefore accepted.
The distance was about five English miles, and Garth drove the pair of Danish horses in the neat livery of Hardy Place; and the Pastor and his daughter sat together, while Hardy sat beside Garth. He did this because he thought that Frøken Helga would rather dispense with his society.
"They will do eight miles," said Garth, "but I do not believe they will do more; they go what you may call pretty, but there is not much stay in them, and if you drive them out of their pace, they are cut down at once."
"Yes, Bob," said Hardy; "but they will suit my mother, and they are just what she wants and would like."
"Yes," said Bob Garth, "there is that; but theystarves them so much when they are young, and that does not make sinew or bone."
Notwithstanding Garth's predictions, the Jensen's mansion was reached in half an hour from Vandstrup Præstegaard, and Garth drove up with a flourish that impressed Herr Jensen, who was on the door steps.
"Are these the horses the Englishman bought a few days ago, Herr Pastor Lindal?" asked Herr Jensen.
"Yes," said Pastor Lindal. "But how are you, and how is Fru Lindal and your family?"
"They are all right, thank you, Herr Pastor," replied Herr Jensen. "But I never saw horses so managed! Why, they could be sold in Hamburgh for a lot of money. They are fit for any carriage anywhere."
If Fru Jensen had not appeared on the scene, it is possible that her husband's interest in the horses might have been prolonged indefinitely; but she conducted Frøken Helga Lindal into the house, introduced herself to John Hardy, and told the Pastor to tell the English groom where to put up his horses and where to wait until he should be required to return to Vandstrup Præstegaard.
Herr Jensen looked at the Englishman with interest, as he stood before him in his evening dress, broad-shouldered with fine limbs, his clothes fitting well, and looking like a wedge from his broad chest down to his feet.
They went into an assembly-room, where many guests were gathered. There were several landowners of the district with their families, and John Hardy's simple manners and unmistakable stamp of gentleman made a favourable impression. He was introduced to a Frøken Jaeger, and was told he would have to take her in to dinner. Hardy bowed.
"How old are you?" said Frøken Jaeger.
"Twenty-eight," replied Hardy.
"What is your profession?" inquired Frøken Jaeger.
"Landowner," replied Hardy. And Hardy was subjected to a cross-examination that elicited from him that his father was dead years ago, that his mother lived at Hardy Place, that he was a magistrate for the English county where he resided, and was also an officer in the yeomanry cavalry.
"Then why do you not wear a uniform?" inquired Frøken Jaeger, with some asperity.
"Because it is not allowed, and I do not wish it, when in a foreign country," replied Hardy.
It is to be feared that if the cross-examination had been much longer, that Hardy would have declined to answer any more questions, and have exhibited some of that insularity that is so common in Englishmen; but dinner was announced, and Hardy offered his arm, and Frøken Jaeger was soon occupied in other and more material subjects. She was about thirty-five, according to Hardy's judgment, and had a longsharp nose and an equally sharp chin, tending ultimately to form what some people ungenerously call nutcrackers; but her appetite was good, and it left an opportunity to Hardy to observe his fellow guests.
The Pastor sat near his host, and his daughter was paired with a young Danish landowner, who paid her great attention. Her dress was simple, with an ornament or two inherited from her mother; but her clear complexion, her tall figure and clean-cut features impressed Hardy. She talked with every one with animation, and Hardy could scarcely realize the comparison between the quiet figure steadily knitting with ear and eye always at her father's service to the perfect Danish lady before him.
There were several toasts proposed during the dinner. The event of the day had to be particularly recognized, which was done with much enthusiasm. Then followed other toasts, and Hardy's health was drunk, to which he had to reply. He rose quickly, and said in Danish that his knowledge of the language was yet so imperfect that he could say little more than thanks, but that he would add that he owed a debt of kindness to the Danes with whom he had been brought in contact, and he thanked them and his host for their kindness and consideration to a foreigner. Hardy read in Frøken Helga's face that what he had said was what had her approval, and that he had said enough.
"You appear to look at Frøken Helga Lindal,Herr Hardy," said Frøken Jaeger; "are you engaged to her?"
"No," said Hardy.
"But what do you think of her?"
"That she is an excellent daughter," replied Hardy.
"And that she would make an excellent wife?" said Frøken Jaeger.
"Possibly," said Hardy, with a determination to say nothing more.
The dinner party broke up. The elder people of the male sort adjourned to a very strong tobacco-parliament and cards; the younger went into the assembly-room, which was now converted into a ball-room. Frøken Jaeger said, "Herr Hardy, I have put your name down in my list of dances for the first dance, and you will dance with me."
Hardy went to Frøken Helga Lindal, and besought her to deliver him from Frøken Jaeger; but she declined, and said, "You have to dance with Frøken Jaeger; you have taken her in to dinner, and it is our custom."
"Then," said Hardy, "let me have one dance with you, a waltz?"
Helga gave him her list, and he wrote his name down for the first waltz possible.
"Is it your father's wish to stay here a long time, Frøken Helga?" asked Hardy.
"No; but it depends on you," replied Helga. "He will not leave until you wish, but I know the soonerhe is home the better for him. But Herr Jensen will want to talk to you about his horses."
"I will see him at once," said Hardy, "and tell him I will ride over to-morrow to see his horses, and that will, I think, prevent any delay arising from that cause."
So Hardy went into the tobacco-parliament, and arranged with Herr Jensen to see him the following day, and the catechising Frøken Jaeger had to wait while the dance and the waltz she loved so well had begun; but Hardy's appearance and his good dancing allayed her rising anger.
"Do you dance much in England?" said Frøken Jaeger.
"No," said Hardy; "I do not like it."
At length the time came for his dance with Frøken Helga Lindal, and as they stood up the personal beauty of both was remarked. Helga's elastic movement on Hardy's arm, the ease with which she danced in perfect time, and her bright manner had its effect on Hardy. He was not quite sure but that he had just told Frøken Jaeger a story, in saying that he did not like dancing.
"You dance well, Frøken Helga!" said Hardy.
"I can do nothing so well as you," replied Helga. "But my father would wish to leave, and if you can arrange it, I shall thank you so much. You can do what you like; we cannot."
A short time after, they were sitting behind thetrotting horses, and the Pastor thanked Hardy for his consideration. "They are kind people," said he, "but they do not think that my duty is never to be away from my home, so that I can be called at any moment to do what duty may arise, and which, if I should delay or omit, would be wrong."
"It is a strict view," said Hardy, "but it is the right one. I cannot say it is general in England."