"'Aa vil du være min Mand?Saa vil a være din Kone;Du er fød i Thyeland,Og a er fød i Skaane.'"'Oh, will you be my man?So will I be your wife;You are born in Thyeland,And I am born in Skaane.'
This is a nursery rhyme to this day. There is also a weed called Charlock in England, the seed of this was brought by them with the fodder they had with them, and it is now all over Denmark."
"What you have told me about Shakespeare's play would, I fear, excite some controversy amongst persons who make Shakespeare their study in England," said Hardy.
"I can only say," rejoined the Pastor, "that the tradition is as related by me."
"We shall soon be at Veile," said Hardy, turning round to Frøken Helga Lindal. She had heard thather father talked incessantly to Hardy, so was satisfied that all went well.
"I wish it was double the distance away," she said; "I enjoy travelling like this so much!"
Veile is a pretty little Jutland town, and as they drove up to the hotel Hardy had selected and telegraphed to, they determined to have a walk in the neighbourhood at once, and postpone dinner a little later.
"There was a fire once in Veile, in the year 1739," said the Pastor. "A woman who was thought out of her mind, at Easter visited a neighbour, who showed her the clothes she had made to wear at Easter; but the woman said, 'What will this avail, when the whole street will be burned in eight days; but although I shall perish in the flames, yet my body will be laid out in the town hall before I am buried?' The next Sunday, a boy in firing off some powder he had put in a door key, set fire to a house. The mad woman, as she was called, had forgotten some things in the house, and went in for them; but her clothes caught on fire, and she died from the burns she received. She was taken to the town hall as the nearest place, and the street she indicated was burnt.
"There is another story of an old monastery near Veile. The name of the abbot was Muus (mouse). He was so hostile to the king that it was determined to suppress the monastery. The force commissioned to execute the king's order sent word to the abbotthat he could leave the monastery, if not, they should be obliged, in execution of their orders, to arrest him. This message was given the abbot when he was at dinner, and he replied that the mouse must have time to eat his dinner in peace. The commander of the force replied not longer than the cat will permit, and took the place by force. It is said this happened in the thirteenth century."
"The place appears to bristle with legends," said Hardy. "Are there more?"
"Many more; but I will not tell you any more until after dinner."
"That is right, little father," said his daughter, who always feared that he might get too tired before he retired to rest.
The dinner at Veile was excellent. The host had asked Hardy what they would like, and Hardy had replied that he would leave it to him to get as good a dinner as he could. The consequence was that the host did his best. The Pastor was greatly pleased at Hardy's simple manner of ordering a dinner, but that it should be successful was a greater success still.
The tobacco-parliament continued to be held, although for the time at Veile. The journey had a good effect on Pastor Lindal, whose temperament was naturally cheerful. He talked on subjects that Hardy had no idea he had any knowledge of in natural science. He had studied Darwin, and hadeven read a book of Sir John Lubbock's. At last Hardy interrupted.
"There are no more legends or traditions of Veile, are there?" he said.
"As I have said before, there are many," was the reply, "and here is one. Once there were two brothers living near Fredericia, one was rich, the other was poor. The place they lived at wanted a church. The rich brother would contribute nothing, and his brother said that if he were so rich he would build the church himself. The next night he dreamt that on a bridge at Veile, called the southern bridge, he would hear of something to his advantage. He went to Veile, and walked up and down it all day. At last an officer passed and repassed him, and asked him what he wanted. He told him he had dreamt he would find a treasure on Veile bridge. The officer replied, 'I dreamt that I should find a treasure in a barn near Fredericia,' belonging to a Bonde he named. It was the man's own name. He found the treasure. One day he was out looking round for a place to build the church on when he met his brother, who did not know what had happened. He said, 'I am going to build the church, and I am looking round to find the best site.' 'Indeed,' said the rich brother; 'if you build the church, I will give the bells.' But when he saw the church would be built, it vexed the avaricious man so much to have to give the bells, that he went and hung himself.
"There is an authenticated story of a priest, as we are generally called," continued the Pastor, "at the time of the plague, in 1654. It was brought by a ship to Copenhagen, and spread rapidly. The priest at Urlev Præstegaard had some clothes sent him belonging to his relatives, who had died of the plague at Copenhagen. His name was Søren Pedersen Prip. As soon as he saw the plague had occurred in his household, his only thought was how to prevent its spreading in his parish. He forbade all intercourse; and as his servants, wife, and children died one after the other, he hoisted a flag, as a signal when he wanted a coffin, which, as he had no one to send to fetch it, he managed to convey on a wheelbarrow, and he himself buried all his household. But that the people should not be without hearing God's word, he preached to them from a stone in the churchyard, which is yet shown. There is said to be also a carved wooden basrelief of him in the church."
"He might have said, 'Exegi monumentum ære perennius'" said Hardy. "Such a man exhibits one side of your national character that the world has honoured and will honour. You say the stone can be pointed out. It is a matter of surprise to me that the stones used in many places in your old walls about churchyards and old buildings are so varied in character: there are, for instance, red and grey granite, syenite, the older sandstones, but all of the older geological formations. The side, for instance, ofViborg Cathedral is like a piece of old-fashioned patchwork from this cause, and has not a good effect."
"In the glacial period these stones were brought down by the ice and stranded on Jutland," said the Pastor; "they are scattered over the whole country more or less. There is a legend of a giant who lived at Veile, who threw these stones at Graverslund Church; but he was a bad shot, and this accounts for the stones being found everywhere. His name was Gavl; but it was the ice of the glacial period that was the giant."
"It will not be possible to visit Kolding," said Hardy, "because it would make us too late for the steamer. We shall have a longer run than usual to-morrow, and reach Esbjerg midday the day after, and the steamer leaves at night. Are there any traditions of Kolding, Herr Pastor?"
"A number, and, of course, attached to Koldinghuus, which was erected in the thirteenth century," said the Pastor. "The oldest story is that of the bloodstains in Koldinghuus. It is said that a king lived there, who had an only daughter. For some reason he determined to kill her, and decided that as she was fond of dancing she should be danced to death. He therefore, amongst his officers, sought out the toughest for the work; but his daughter danced with nine of them without signs of giving way. The king was enraged. He danced with her himself, and then cut with his dagger the belt she wore, which had sustained her, so says the legend.Her mouth filled with blood, and she died in her father's arms. Nothing could wash the stain of her blood out of the floor.
"As to Kolding itself, there are several stories," continued the Pastor. "There is more than one about the church clock, which never keeps time, the reason is that the men in an adjoining town, not far from Kolding, had in a time of scarcity borrowed seed from the men from Kolding, and had pledged a neighbouring meadow, which should belong to the men of Kolding if the value of the seed was not paid on a certain day and at a certain hour. When the time came, the men of Kolding induced the clock-keeper to alter the clock; and when the borrowers came to repay the loan, it was too late, and the meadow was adjudged to belong to the men of Kolding. There is a variation of this story, that the widow of Henning Limbek borrowed the money and pledged the meadow with the same result. She was on the bridge and heard the clock strike twelve and she at once returned home and surrendered the meadow to the men of Kolding. There is another story of a rich man who lived near Kolding, and they offered him a large sum for the meadow, and the terms were settled at a feast. The rich man, however, had a horse, and he affirmed that the horse would gallop from his house to Kolding by a certain time. This the men of Kolding denied as possible. He then offered to wager the meadow against a considerablesum that the horse would. The horse performed the journey within the time stated, but the clock had been altered. Ever since, the church clock has never been correct."
"Not very correct of the men of Kolding," said Hardy, "and, I fear, not a good side of the Danish character."
"I cannot deny that such principles occur with us," said Pastor Lindal; "possibly we have learnt it from the English."
"We shall have to start at six to-morrow, Herr Pastor, to reach Hoisted," said Hardy. "The hotel there is moderate, and we can only expect what we can obtain. We shall have to break our longest journey where we can, to give the horses a little rest."
"Therefore, we should go to bed early," said the Pastor.
"But I cannot go to bed without thanking you, Herr Hardy, for your goodness to my father," said Frøken Helga. "I have never seen him so bright, and I thank you." She thanked him in her Danish manner by shaking hands.
"There is little need to thank me," said Hardy. "I have learnt much from your father, and am thankful for it; but I hope with time to win the same kindly trust from him as you already possess, and I think deservedly."
Helga never forgot these words. They echoed in her recollection through the winter months, and Kapellan Holm was nowhere.
"Piscator.—Come, sir, let us be going; for the sun grows low, and I would have you look about you as you ride, for you will see an odd country, and sights that will seem strange to you."—The Complete Angler.
John Hardy, before he retired to rest, had arranged with the hotel manager at Veile to telegraph to Bække, where he designed to have a late breakfast, or rather lunch, and to a little inn, a few English miles further on, where they could pass the night. Thus the horses could rest at Bække, and then go further to a station that would leave them but a little distance to reach Esbjerg.
It was eleven before they reached Bække, travelling over not the best of roads, and when they got there Hardy's forethought in telegraphing was apparent. The Pastor was tired, but as conversational as ever. Karl and Axel were obviously hungry, and as there was nothing to be had but fried eggs, and the usual indigestibleet ceteras, Hardy was anxious to get on to their destination for the night. The Pastor went into the carriage, and Helga got up by Hardy's side, but her fatherhad specially stipulated that she was not to drive the horses. This, of course, had to be obeyed, as the Pastor's wish once expressed was enough for Helga. The direction was over by-roads, and it was perhaps best the Pastor had been so decisive.
Helga talked as before, unreservedly, and the ring of her clear voice, with its transparent truth, was a pleasure to hear.
"Travelling like this is such a pleasure," she said; "the sound of the step of the horses even has its effect, as we feel they go easily to themselves. There is the succession of change of place and scene, fresh green meadows after dry and dusty roads, and, after a dull bit, there comes a pretty prospect of a country house, with its woods and lake. The coming also to a fresh place every night has its interest. I cannot think of a more pleasant way of travelling. Do you, Herr Hardy?"
"Yes," said Hardy. "I like a fresh breeze blowing in the wished-for direction, and an English sailing yacht, as a means of travelling. You do not go so fast as you appear to sail, but it is pleasant to see the bright wave flashing by, and to feel the yacht rushing through the sea."
"But, then, there is not the varied change of scene as in travelling as we now do, Herr Hardy," said Helga.
"There is nothing like yachting for variety, if there be favourable winds, but on that it is dependent,"said Hardy. "For instance, the Mediterranean can be explored in a winter, and places in Spain and Portugal visited on the way to Gibraltar, and then Italy and the Ionian Islands and Greece."
"It must be a great drawback to be so dependent on the wind," said Helga.
"Yes; and particularly so in yachting on the coast of Norway, amongst the Danish islands, or up the Baltic," said Hardy; "but this difficulty is got over by the use of steam, and steam yachts are becoming the rule."
"Have you a yacht, Herr Hardy?" asked Helga.
"I am having one built," replied Hardy. "My mother likes the sea, and I am having one built so that she may be as comfortable as possible. It is a steam yacht, and we shall be at sea in a fortnight, and I shall take Karl, if he wishes."
"He likes the sea, and when we go to Copenhagen from Aarhus in the steamer, we enjoy the journey," said Helga.
"There is one small matter which has struck me with regard to Karl," said Hardy, "and that is, you Scandinavians are liable to what you call Hjemve (home sickness). I wish you would ask your father to say to him that he goes to England to try to get on in life, and that it is childish to be afraid of meeting strange people, but to look to the future and not be occupied with the present."
"Thank you very much, Herr Hardy; you are verythoughtful. Karl has been very quiet the last two days, and you have anticipated what I had thought," said Helga.
They had arrived at Hoisted, where they had to pass the night. The modest little inn did its best for them, and the Pastor was glad to rest; but after dinner his enjoyment of his pipe was great. It is not understood in England that such is good or necessary.Tot homines quot sententiæ. The question is in England, Is it wrong for a parson to enjoy his pipe? The answer is, "No," with some people, "Yes," with others; but the question whether it is good for him is very generally answered in the negative.
"You have but few stories of the people, or, as you call them, Eventyr?" asked Hardy.
"There are very many," replied the Pastor. "But in Norway you will have found an even richer store. The grandness of nature there has influenced the imaginations of the people. Their legends, traditions, and stories are more romantic and weird. Their traditions of the Huldr are exquisitely fantastic and picturesque to a degree. Their Folke-Eventyr is rich in colour. There is a depth of thought and of the knowledge of human nature as it is that fills the mind with astonishment. There is in them all a sense of justice, a feeling of appreciation of what is good and true, as if the thought had been inspired. Nationally, the Norwegians are honest, and their Folke-Eventyr has contributed to form the characterof the people. It has engendered a respect for what is good and true. There is also an idea of rough justice and humour; and I will tell you a story which will illustrate this. There was once a priest who was very overbearing. When he drove in the roads, he shouted to the people he met, 'Out of the way, I am coming; out of the way!' He did this so often that the king determined to check his pride, and drove to the priest's. As he was coming, he met the priest, who shouted as usual. The king drove as he should do, as king, and the priest had to give way. When the king was at the side of the priest's carriage, he said, 'Come to me at the palace to-morrow, and if you cannot answer three questions I put to you, I will punish you for your pride's sake.' This was treatment the priest was not accustomed to. He could bully the Bønder, but answering questions did not suit him. So he went to his clerk and told him that one fool can ask more questions than ten wise men could answer, and that he must go up to the palace to the king and reply to his questions. So the clerk went in the priest's gown. The king was in the balcony with his crown and sceptre, and was dressed in such a costume that he looked a king."
"'So you have come,' said the king.
"'Yes,' said the clerk. It was quite certain that he was there.
"'Tell me' said the king, 'how far the east is from the west?'
"'A day's journey,' answered the clerk.
"'How can that be?' said the king.
"'The sun rises in the east and sets in the west, and generally does it in a day,' answered the clerk.
"'Good,' said the king. 'But tell me now how much money I am worth?'
"'Well,' replied the clerk, 'Christ was sold for thirty pieces of silver, and I should put you at twenty-nine.'
"'A good answer,' said the king. 'But tell me now what I am at this moment thinking about?'
"'That's easy to answer,' replied the clerk. 'The fact is, you think I am the priest, but I am only the clerk.'
"'Then go you home and be priest, and, let the priest be clerk,' commanded the king."
"A very excellent story," said Hardy, "and, as you say, shows a strong sense of rough justice and humour."
"There is a child's story," said the Pastor, "with its humour; but it is very simple, as all stories of the people should be. A boy found a pretty box in a wood, but he could not open it, for it was locked. A little further he found a key. The question was whether the key would fit the box. He blew into the key and put the key into the lock, when lo! it fitted, and the box opened. But can you guess what was in the box? No, of course not. There was a calf's tail in the box, but if the calf's tail had been longer, so would this story be."
"But that is a Norwegian story," said Hardy. "Are there none essentially Danish?"
"They are related to some extent in H. C. Andersen's stories, and they have been translated into English. There is a story, however, that may not have been translated. A king and queen had no children; but a beggar came to her and said, 'You can have a son, if you will let me be his godfather when he is christened.' The queen assented. The queen had a son, but the king had to go to war to quell a rebellion. The king made her promise that she would nurse the child herself, and not trust to nurses and other people. The queen did so, and the beggar stood godfather. The beggar bent down over the child, and said that everything it wished for it should have. This the king's attendant heard. He was accustomed to attend the king when hunting, and he thought that such a child was worth possessing. The queen, however, watched the child night and day. One day she was in a summer-house and had fallen asleep, with the child in her lap; when she woke the child was gone. When the king returned, he had a tower built in a wood, and he walled the queen up in it, as a punishment for losing the child. The attendant brought the child up as his own, and there was no suspicion. He took the child, when grown up, out hunting when the king went, and taught him to wish for such and such a head of game, and if he shot an arrow at it, he always hit. The king could notunderstand how so young a hunter could always be so successful, but the attendant assured him that it was only a sure hand and eye. The attendant had meanwhile become very rich, by getting the king's son to wish him to be so. The attendant had taken a girl into his service, who grew up to be very beautiful. She had suspicions that all was not right, and asked the attendant; but he would not tell her. At last the attendant told her the boy must be killed, and she must do it, and cut out his tongue, to show him that she had murdered him. She, however, killed a hind, and cut out its tongue, and showed the attendant the tongue. The attendant thought she had done as she was told, and told her the story, which the king's son heard from a place where she had hid him. The king's son immediately wished the attendant should be a three-legged dog, that must always follow him. He wished the girl to be a rose and put her in his button-hole. The king's son then attended the court, as the king wished to go hunting. 'Where is the attendant?' asked the king. 'He is here close by,' said the king's son. The king was satisfied with the answer, and went out hunting. The king's son led the hunt to the tower where the queen was walled in, and wished that the tower might fall down and the queen be found in it yet living. This happened, although she had been there seventeen years. The prince then took the rose out of his button-hole, and married the girl who had so well served him."
"A graphic story," said Hardy, "and has the same tendency that you attributed to the Norwegian stories of the people, or Folke-Eventyr."
"There is a story more peculiarly belonging to Jutland," said Pastor Lindal, "and that is of a Trold who lived in a wood in a large Kæmpehøi, or tumulus. He was an old grey-bearded Trold, and the people in the district were afraid of him. There was an old woman who lived near with her son. They had a cow, and it was difficult to get grass for it, particularly in the winter. The boy took the cow and grazed it on the Trold's Kæmpehøi. The Trold came out and objected, and threatened, and drove the boy and the cow away. The boy, however, got a piece of soft cheese from his mother, and stole a bird sitting on its eggs in a nest, these he put in his pocket; so the next day he took the cow to the same place, and the Trold came out and threatened. The Trold took up a stone and pressed it in his hand, so that water came from it, to show how he could crush him. The boy said that is nothing, and took the cheese from his pocket and pressed it, so that it appeared as if he was squeezing more out of a stone than the Trold could. So the Trold said, 'I will throw a stone up, and you can count until it comes down. The boy did so, and counted up to one hundred and thirty-one. 'That is good!' said the boy. 'But now count for the stone I cast;' and the Trold counted, but the boy threw the bird up in the air, and of course it flew away. The Trold wasastonished, and asked the boy if he would come into his service. The first thing was to fetch water, as the Trold wanted to brew. The Trold had a large bucket to fetch water, which the boy could not even lift; so he said, 'This will not do at all; we had best fetch in the river.' But this the Trold could not do. The boy behaved in the same way with fetching turf and fuel; and when the Trold went out to pick nuts, he picked up stones and gave the Trold to crack. This gave him the toothache, but the boy advised him to fill his mouth full of water and sit on the fire until it boiled. This did not succeed, and so the boy continued to tease the Trold until he compassed his destruction, and taking all the Trold's gold and silver, he went home, and had enough to live on all his days, with his mother."
"I have heard a parallel story from many lands," said Hardy.
"That is true enough; it is a story very widespread, with different incidents and features," said the Pastor.
The next day they drove into Esbjerg, and Garth and Hardy put the horses on board the steamer for England. It would leave in the evening, when the tide would allow it to get out of dock.
The Pastor had arranged to stay the night at Esbjerg, to see the very last of his son Karl on his leaving for England.
As they left, Hardy said, "I shall be at Rosendal in May, and I hope my mother will be with me; butyou will hear from me many times before then, and I dare say Karl will write you more frequently than I do."
Helga said simply, "I thank you, Herr Hardy, for your kindness to us."
The steamer left that night, and the next day Pastor Lindal went to the railway station at Esbjerg to take three tickets to the station nearest his parsonage. Three tickets were handed to him, and the Pastor expostulated.
"They are first-class tickets, and——"
"Yes," said the station clerk; "but they are already taken and paid for."
"Piscator,—But, look you, sir, now you are at the brink of the hill, how do you like my river, the vale it winds through like a snake, and the situation of my little fishing-house?"—The Complete Angler.
As John Hardy drove up to the front of Hardy Place, the young Danish lad was struck with the beauty of the lawns and shrubberies.
"This is by far prettier than Rosendal, Herr Hardy," he said.
Mrs. Hardy had evidently been waiting some time for the sound of wheels on the carriage drive, and as her son alighted, she received him with warm natural affection.
"John, my own boy, I am so glad to see you again," she said; "you have been too long away from your mother."
"You will have me all to yourself until next May, mother, and then you will have me with you at Rosendal," said her son. "But here is Karl Lindal, son of Pastor Lindal, of Vandstrup Præstegaard, Denmark."
The tall, fair-haired lad, with his honest blue eyes,favourably impressed Mrs. Hardy, who could see beyond outward appearance and awkwardness of manner.
"Welcome to Hardy Place, Mr. Karl Lindal," she said, taking the lad's hand kindly. "You can have no better introduction here than as my own boy's friend."
Karl bowed. He saw a tall elderly lady, dressed in good taste and perfect neatness, strikingly like her son. They entered the inner hall, where Mrs. Hardy had been sitting, and tea was served, and she and her son talked to each other with that kindly confidence not so frequent nowadays. Karl looked at the old portraits on the wall, and observed the quiet taste of the decorations and furniture, with its appearance of comfort, so conspicuous in an English home.
Mother and son had much to say to each other; but at length John Hardy observed a tired look on the young Dane's face, and he took him up to the bedroom Mrs. Hardy had directed to be prepared for him, near her son's rooms.
"Karl," he said, "here is your room, and everything you are likely to want ready. If you want anything, press that nob, which rings a bell, and a man-servant will answer it; but as he may not understand you, come for a moment into my dressing-room, and I will show you where my things are, and if you want anything, take it."
There was a strong contrast between Hardy's rooms in his own home and the single little room he had occupied in Denmark, and Karl said so.
"Yes," said Hardy; "you will find a good deal of difference between England and Denmark, but you will find me the same John Hardy."
"I have not dressed, mother," said Hardy, as he came down just before the gong was struck for dinner; "my young Danish friend is not supplied with evening dress, and I thought he might feel a trifle less strange, where everything must strike with the force of novelty a lad of seventeen, if I appeared as he has usually seen me."
"You are the same thoughtful, considerate old John," said his mother, proud of her son's kind heart; "but I do think, John, you look better than when you left."
"I am better," said John. "The fare at the little Danish parsonage was simple and good. At first I missed a few things that I was accustomed to here, but the excellence of the quality of everything at the Pastor's soon made me forget them. I think, too, my mother, I have learnt much. The simplicity with which the Danish Pastor did his work with exact conscientiousness interested me. There was never a thought of postponing a duty under any circumstances. There was never a thought that a duty done was a sacrifice of self, but his duty was done with a serious singleness of purpose and thorough trust in God, that had a strong influence on his parishioners. They saw he was sincere and true."
"You are drawing a good picture of the Pastor,John," said his mother; "but," she added in a whisper, as John took her into dinner, "what about the Scandinavian princess?"
"I will tell you all about her after you have seen her photograph," said John. "I will give it you when you go into the library after dinner. I will give Karl Lindal some English to read, as he must lose no time in acquiring the language."
Karl Lindal felt awkward and uneasy at dinner. The novelty of everything so occupied him that he was the more gauche in manner. This Mrs. Hardy observed, and said little to him. It was best the lad should be left to get over the change that had impressed him.
When John Hardy joined his mother in the library, he found her with a large reading-glass, looking at Helga Lindal's photograph. "It is a good face, John, like her brother somewhat, and fine features," said his mother. "Is she tall?"
"About five feet eight, mother," replied John. "She is like her father in character—simple and true, and with common sense."
"But you wrote me, John, that if you did propose to her that she would not accept you, on account of her father wanting her assistance and relying so much on her," said Mrs. Hardy.
"I did, mother; but her father wished her to become engaged to a curate of his called Holm," said John. "She refused Holm, as she did not like him, and Ithink her father would wish her to marry any one she did like. His view appears to be that she owes a duty to herself, and he would think it his duty to prevent her sacrificing all her young life even to him."
"Why, the man is right, John, and his photograph says as much!" said Mrs. Hardy. "But, John, answer me plainly—have you said anything to her?"
"No," replied Hardy. "I do not feel certain of myself without you, mother. I want you to see her."
"Have you led her to expect that you might speak to her John?" asked his mother.
"When I went there first, she behaved towards me as if she disliked me," replied John; "but her manner changed. I had offered to teach her to ride: she declined in a very decided way; but in driving to Esbjerg, she said she should like to learn, and that her objection, whatever it was, did not exist longer. I said I would teach her when I came again to Denmark. One evening, I sang the German song you have heard me sing so often, and I turned round suddenly and saw her face; she looked at me as if she loved me with all her heart, but possibly so simple a nature as hers was carried away by the song's influence. I turned away my face, that it might reflect nothing to her."
"Did anything else occur, John?" asked his mother.
"Yes," replied John. "A few evenings before I left, I showed her father and herself your photographs;she exhibited a warm interest in them, particularly that one of the picture. I gave her the photographs, and she thanked me as if I had given her something she had a great wish for."
"It is a long way for an old woman, John," said Mrs. Hardy; "but I would go to the end of the earth to see you happily married. I like her face," added she, looking at Helga Lindal's photograph; "it is good and firm of purpose for so young a woman. Is she ladylike, John?"
"Her manner is simple and sincere," he replied; "and I never saw anything that you, mother, would not approve of; but, living as she does, and has, she has not seen much society, or acquired any artificial manner. Her management of her father's house is practical, and the obedience to her wishes and orders as complete as they ever are in Denmark. Their servants are not as ours are."
"Why you do like her, John," said his mother.
"I do, but I do not feel certain of myself," said John. "The time I have known her is short, and it may be only a passing fancy; and what I want, mother, is your help in knowing my own mind, but, above all, hers. You will understand her instantly."
"But why did you buy Rosendal, John?" asked his mother; "in all your letters you never gave a reason."
"I bought it on an impulse," replied John, "but I did think I might want it at the time. It is a placeyou can live in, mother, until you are tired of it, but from which you can help me."
"I do not think you need fear, John, her being carried off by any one," said Mrs. Hardy, to whom the idea of any woman not being in love with her son was impossible.
"I must risk it," said John, "but I could not do other than I have done. If I had spoken a word to her when a guest in her father's house, it would have been wrong. But I wanted to talk with you, my mother. I have no secrets from you; and John kissed her, and wished her 'Good night.'"
A few weeks at Hardy Place made a great change in Karl Lindal. He talked English better, and his manners were not so boyish. He felt also the influence of the good people about him, and had lost his home-sickness.
The experimental trip in the new steam yacht that Hardy had had built (and which he had christened theRosendal) was a great delight to the young Dane, who was naturally fond of the sea. The yacht made a few short trips in the English Channel, and was then laid up for the winter. Karl made himself useful on board the yacht, and his greatest pleasure was to do anything for John Hardy or his mother. The lad's thankfulness for the kindness he received was thorough, and Mrs. Hardy liked the lad.
"Is your sister Helga like you, Mr. Karl Lindal?" asked Mrs. Hardy, one day, when her son was not present.
"She is more clever in everything than I am," replied Karl, "and she is so good to me and Axel, and gives up everything for us. She is four years older."
At last a letter came to John Hardy, from Vandstrup Præstegaard.
"Herr Hardy,
"My father desires me to say that they are proceeding with the work at Rosendal, and that there is nothing specially to report at present, as there is nothing being done contrary to your wishes, and there is no room for complaint on what is being done.
"My father also desires me to express his thanks for your kindness about the tickets from Esbjerg. It was a matter that surprised us all, except me, and it was my fault in saying that my coming back from Esbjerg would be an additional cost to him; I understood the completeness of your kindness at once. I felt you would not let it be a burden to my father on my account and Axel, and that when you were taking the tickets that you might as well include my father's also; but to take first-class tickets was not necessary, and what we did not wish.
"I promised to write if I caught a trout that weighed one pound, English, by your measure. I have fished many times, and caught one by the bend in the river just below the tile works. Axel got it into the landing-net, and my father has seen it weighed, and it is justa little heavier than the line that marks the one pound English. I thank you also for your consideration in this. My father is pleased to see me looking fresh and well after going out fishing, and he says no fish are so good as those Helga catches. I thank you, Herr Hardy, for your thinking that this would also please my father.
"We all send you friendly greeting from here, and our best affection to Karl.
"Helga Lindal."
John Hardy translated the letter for his mother, and gave it to her with the original.
"Her handwriting is ladylike, John," said his mother, "there is no doubt of that; and she writes such a beautiful, simple letter! I like her, John! If you love her, do not lose her for the world."
John Hardy was touched.
"Bless you, my mother," he said; "your heart is as mine; you love again with your son's love. But I know it is best to wait until May, when we can go there."
Karl Lindal wrote to his father in Denmark.
"My all-dearest Father,
"The kindness I receive from Herr Hardy and his mother is great. They are most kind. I feel it not possible to express my thanks; but I am always trying to be useful, to show how thankful I am. They are so different from Danish people. Icannot say how beautiful Herr Hardy's house is. It is far prettier than Rosendal. I learn English every day with an English Kapellan; he is very kind, and he teaches me the English games of cricket and lawn tennis. Mrs. Hardy, that is Herr Hardy's mother, is beautiful. She touches my cheek with her hand, and she asks if Helga is like me. I answer that Helga is better, and she seems to be pleased to hear me say so. Herr Hardy has taken me out in his yacht, that is a pleasure vessel with steam power; he has called it theRosendal.
"I have been out with Herr Hardy shooting partridges. He has had many gentlemen down to shoot, but they none of them shoot so well as Herr Hardy. A flock of the birds get up, and Herr Hardy, who shoots with a double-barrelled gun, always gets two. His gamekeeper, or Jaeger, told me that they always could depend on the governor, as they call Herr Hardy.
"Herr Hardy took me to London, and I went to the Zoological Gardens, where there were a great many rare animals, and to the Haymarket Theatre, which is like the Royal Theatre at Copenhagen. I was measured for clothes by a tailor in London, and Herr Hardy has given me many more things than necessary; but he is so kind I do not know what to say or do. I send my best love to you and Helga and Axel.
"Your son,
"Karl Lindal."
Another letter came from Vandstrup Præstegaard.
"Herr Hardy,
"My father desires me to say that the work at Rosendal is nearly finished, and that the land where the trees are to be planted is prepared for them. There is nothing that he sees neglected, or that he should bring to your notice.
"We have received many letters from Karl, and we are interested in them. He writes and describes your house, and repeats again and again your goodness to him. He describes your mother as very kind. We have no doubt but this is you. My father says if you do anything, you do it always in the kindest way. I do not doubt but that this is so, and we all thank you gratefully, and greet you kindly.
"Helga Lindal."
John Hardy translated this letter for his mother. She read it, and said—
"John, the letter is a letter to keep for all time! I feel so proud of you, my own boy, that such a letter should be addressed to you. I never read so beautiful a letter; so short, and yet so exquisite in its simplicity! You can trust your future to her, John."
"Thank you, my mother," replied her son. "I know I can trust her, if she will trust me."
"Why, John, you can offer her wealth, position, and influence," said Mrs. Hardy.
"All which would be nothing with her," said John "She would be as content to marry me on a bare subsistence as if I had a larger income than we have. Position is nothing to her, because she scarcely understands it; and as for influence, she has more influence for good in her father's parish than any person in it."
"A faint heart, John," suggested his mother.
"Yes, I know that; but my heart is not faint," said John. "I only wait to be sure of it, and your approval, mother."
Karl Lindal made progress in learning English and Hardy made inquiries for a berth for him with a foreign broker. In reply to the question as to Karl's character, Hardy told the story of the young Dane's refusing taking any money from Hardy in their driving tour to Esbjerg. This slight matter made a favourable impression, and the young Dane entered on his duties. Hardy procured lodgings for him in London, with a young medical man who had recently married, and had began to keep house, and whose relatives resided near Hardy Place.
"Only a sweet and virtuous soulLike seasoned timber, never givesBut when the whole world turns to coal,Then chiefly lives."The Complete Angler.
The interior of Rosendal had been painted, and sketch plans of the different floors and rooms had been submitted to Mrs. Hardy. Lithographed drawings of Danish furniture had been procured in Copenhagen, so that she could select what furniture she thought necessary for their stay at Rosendal during the summer, and this was purchased for John Hardy by Prokuratør Steindal, and sent to Rosendal.
The planting and improvements in the grounds had been carried out.
Robert Garth and a manservant were sent with the horses, a carriage, and the heavy impedimenta to Esbjerg by steamer, late in April, to prepare for the occupation of the mansion at Rosendal.
Then came a letter from Vandstrup Præstegaard.
"Herr Hardy,
"We have heard that your servants are preparing Rosendal for your mother's residence there. It has occurred to my father that everything may not be at first ready for her, and he has directed me to write and say that if she will come here on her arriving in Jutland, that we will do our best to make her stay a pleasant one. We are all so grateful for your goodness to Karl, that it would gladden us to do anything for your mother.
"We send respectful greetings to her and to yourself.
"Helga Lindal."
John translated the letter to his mother.
"Accept it, John," she said. "My maid can be driven over by Robert Garth, the two miles you say that Rosendal is situated from the parsonage, if she would be in the way there."
"No, my mother," said Hardy; "you do not know the language. I will go to Rosendal, and you can certainly take your maid with you. Pastor Lindal knows a little English, and so does his daughter. It will be a good sign if she has been learning it in the winter; I left my Danish-English books there, but I suggested nothing to her in this direction."
"How simply to the point her letter is, John!" exclaimed Mrs. Hardy. "There are no phrases about their accommodation not being so good, or that theirmeans are narrow; she simply says they will do their best, and that they would be glad to do it. It is not possible to doubt her."
"It is like her manner," said John. "I can fancy I hear the words she writes."
Towards the middle of May, Mrs. Hardy, her son, and two women-servants travelled overland to Jutland, from Flushing.
Robert Garth met them at the railway station, and drove them to the parsonage.
Parson Lindal was at the door, and welcomed Mrs. Hardy with much old-fashioned politeness. "Welcome, and glad to see you," he said in English to her, while he warmly greeted Hardy in Danish.
Helga was standing by her father, regarding their visitor with great interest; she had shaken hands with John Hardy, and welcomed him back to Jutland. The Pastor introduced his daughter to Mrs. Hardy, who held out her hand to Helga, and drew her closer and kissed her, as if she had been her daughter.
"You are a beautiful edition of your brother Karl, Miss Lindal," she said. "He has become a great favourite of mine, and you will be glad to hear he is well spoken of in London."
Robert Garth drove one of the servants to Rosendal, and had orders to fetch John Hardy in the evening, at the parsonage.
The Pastor had time for a word with Hardy, as his mother went to change her travelling dress.
"I am glad to see you, Hardy; but what a trick you played us about the tickets from Esbjerg! I did not like it at first, but when I thought of your friendly intentions, I forgave you; but I cannot thank you enough for your goodness to Karl, and your wisely placing him in lodgings with the chance of good influence. That is good of you, indeed."
"Where is Axel?" asked Hardy.
"He is at Copenhagen, at a school for a time," replied the Pastor. "He will be home in the summer for a holiday."
"What about Rosendal?" asked Hardy.
"It is much improved; in a month or six weeks it will be lovely," answered the Pastor. "The plan was excellent that you adopted, and, as you have been written, it has been executed well."
When Mrs. Hardy appeared, perfectly well dressed, as she always was, John could see that the Pastor observed her well-bred manner. "Your parsonage, Herr Pastor," she said, "has a look of calm contentment and quiet that strikes me in coming from busy England."
"That is near the reality, Mrs. Hardy," replied he; "but it is not the fact with all our Danish parsonages, men vary here as they do elsewhere."
"That may be; but you have the greater opportunity for attaining the actuality of what is simple and true," said Mrs. Hardy.
"Possibly we have," replied Pastor Lindal; "butI fear we are all liable to neglect opportunities which suggest only."
John Hardy had been obliged to assist at this conversation as interpreter, when Kirstin announced dinner was served. Hardy rose and shook hands with Kirstin.
"It is an old servant, mother," said Hardy; and Mrs. Hardy rose and shook hands with Kirstin, and then the Pastor took Mrs. Hardy in to dinner.
Mrs. Hardy's ladylike tact soon enabled her to get on with the Pastor—she used the simplest English words, and Hardy was able to talk to Helga.
"I have brought the side saddle," he said.
"I have seen it at Rosendal; and your man Garth has been exercising the horses with a skirt daily, to make them more accustomed to a lady riding them," said Helga.
"Well?" said Hardy, inquiringly.
"I shall be glad to learn to ride, Herr Hardy, if you will kindly teach me," said Helga. "Your man has told us that the horses and carriage were at our disposal until your mother came. We have not often used them, as my father said that if I wished to learn to ride, I had better wait until you came, as you understood horses, and that he was afraid some accident might occur."
John Hardy had apprised Mrs. Hardy of the inevitable porcelain pipe, which, as she did not like tobacco smoking, her son asked the Pastor to holdhis tobacco-parliament in his own study, where he went to keep him company.
Thus Mrs. Hardy was alone with Helga for some time. She found that Helga could speak a little English, and Mrs. Hardy led her to speak of the management of the little household at the parsonage, and then of her father, which with Helga was an inexhaustible theme. She told Mrs. Hardy of John's gift of the piano, which she said she had accepted because her father liked to hear her sing.
"I feel it was wrong to have accepted it," she said, "but I did so on the impulse of the moment; my father had been listening to my singing, and it seemed to draw his mind away from his great sorrow, and I thought any feeling of my own should be sacrificed to that."
"Why, what a dear child you are!" said Mrs. Hardy, led away by Helga's earnest blue eyes, and she kissed her affectionately. "You talk a good deal better English than I expected," she added.
"Perhaps so," replied Helga. "Mr. Hardy left his books here for Axel, and I have been learning all the winter, in the hope of being of use to you; I knew you would want some one to speak English, as your son might not always be at hand. Karl has written with such gratitude of you, that it is the only way that occurred to me that I might really be useful to you."
"You are a dear, sensible girl, Miss Lindal," saidMrs. Hardy, caressing her; "and so it will be. And will you come and stay with me as long as your father can spare you, at Rosendal, and help me to get the house in order?"
"I will do anything for you, Mrs. Hardy," replied Helga, earnestly.
John Hardy came in to wish them "Good night," before he left for Rosendal.
"I shall drive over in the morning to see if you wish to go to Rosendal, mother," he said.
"Certainly I do, John," replied his mother, "But I have a message for you;" and she whispered, "I like her already, John; she is perfectly good and true."
John Hardy was right when he said that his mother's influence on his own thoughts would crystallize them.
The next few days were occupied in settling down at Rosendal. Mrs. Hardy was charmed with the place. Its natural beauty was what such a mind as hers could recognize, and she praised Rosendal to Helga, to the latter's great satisfaction.
Helga was assiduous in learning English, and daily became more useful to Mrs. Hardy, The Pastor often came to dinner, and the days passed pleasantly,
"John," said Mrs. Hardy, one day, when she was alone with her son, "you have asked me to ascertain what Helga Lindal's feelings are to you, if I possibly could. I cannot. All I can say is, marry her, andyou will never regret it. Ask her. She is the best and truest woman I ever met."
"Very good, mother," replied John. "I will."
That day Pastor Lindal came to dinner, and his daughter was to return with him in the evening, to remain at home.
John Hardy asked Helga to walk through the grounds, while her father was conversing with Mrs. Hardy, They went to a particular place that John recollected, and he said—
"Frøken, do you remember your asking me at this spot why I bought Rosendal?"
"Yes, perfectly," said Helga, frankly; "and you said you would tell me when your mother came."
"My reason is, and was, because you said there was no place you should like to live at so much as Rosendal."
"Do you mean you will give it to us?" asked Helga.
"My meaning is that I will give it to you, Helga. I want you to be my wife."
"I will, if you will wait. Hardy; my father cannot live without me now."
"Wait!" cried Hardy; and he looked into her blue eyes. "Why, you have loved me a long time, and never told me so! I have been in doubt and fear."
"You never need doubt it more. Hardy," said she, saying "du" to him for the first time. "When youcame here first, I tried not to like you; then I tried to disgust you with me, and you were so good and manly that I loved you with all my heart. I thought," she added, "you would have spoken to me when you proposed the driving tour to Esbjerg, and I was so frightened."
"Yes," said Hardy, "it was in my mind, but I was a guest in your father's house, and I had to ask my mother's blessing and support. But tell me one thing, what was the reason that you would not tell me about your refusing to learn to ride?"
"My reason was that I did try not to like you, and then I refused."
"I see," said Hardy, kissing what he thought the most beautiful mouth in the world.
When they returned to the house, Mrs. Hardy saw her son's bright face, and knew he had been accepted.
"Dear mother," said John, caressing her, "she's won."
Mrs. Hardy embraced Helga warmly, and the Pastor saw how the matter stood, and held out his hand.
"I have understood you all along, Hardy, and you are a noble fellow. You have my consent, willingly."
Helga was preparing to return with her father, but Mrs. Hardy interposed.
"You can have John, Herr Pastor," she said; "but I must have my daughter here, that I may getto know more of her. John shall go with you, but I must have her for to-night."
The Pastor had to give way, and John Hardy went with him, and they held a tobacco-parliament, and John slept in his old room at the parsonage.
Mrs. Hardy, when they were gone, said, "Tell me all about John, my darling, all you know;" and Helga told her.
"He is like his father," said Mrs. Hardy; "he was so true and good a gentleman, that I feel the same interest as if it were my own marriage over again, and my son has been my all for years. He has told me so much about you, that before I came it was the holding up the mirror to memory; all what he said, and had dwelt in my mind, came back."
Helga told her that she could not marry until her father was too old to attend to his duty; that he could not, and would not, give his duty up until pronounced unfit.
"I will arrange all that," said Mrs. Hardy, "You shall be married to John this summer, and you must say no more; you must leave that to me. Your father's greatest happiness will be to see you happily married, and he has told me so."
A few days after, John Hardy and his mother and Helga Lindal called at the Jensens'. John frankly told them the story of his engagement, and, as he was going to be married in Denmark, asked the twoFrøken Jensens if they would be bridesmaids. Helga wished it.
Mathilde Jensen reminded Hardy that she had said he bought Rosendal because he wanted to marry Helga Lindal.
"Yes," said John; "I thanked you for so disposing of me."
The worthy proprietor was delighted that John Hardy would be his neighbour for some time of the year, and thanked him for the mare Hardy had sent over from England to improve his breeding stock. John Hardy had made him a present of it.
"She is," said the proprietor, "as handsome as can be; but she has a temper."
"She is Irish," said Hardy. "But you will find the horse foals easy to manage; the mares may give a little trouble, but they will go like birds."
The Jensens pressed them to stay to an early dinner, and Mrs. Hardy thought they had best do so. The well-bred English lady made a strong impression on the Jensen ladies, and the genuine Danish hospitality appealed to Mrs. Hardy.
The result of this visit was a return visit to Rosendal. The exact service and the excellent arrangements of everything had its effect on the Jensens, and the consequence was that numerous calls were made at Rosendal.
Helga had returned to the parsonage, when John Hardy one day came to his mother with a telegram. The steam yacht Rosendal was at Aarhus.
"Let us go to Copenhagen, John," said Mrs. Hardy, "and take Helga with us. She is fond of the sea, and I enjoy her society. It is the perfect truth that is in everything about her that I love."
"She will not go if I ask her, mother," said John; "but if you do she may."
"Telegraph to them to have steam up, John," said his mother, "and I will drive to the parsonage."
His mother left, and, to John's astonishment, Helga returned with her, ready to go anywhere.
"The Pastor insisted on her going," said Mrs. Hardy, "and I promised to bring back his youngest son, who is at school at Copenhagen. The Pastor is a sensible man. He said to his daughter, 'Why should you not enjoy the kindness your future husband can show you?' and there was an end to her objections."
They hurried to the station, and got on board the Rosendal after a short railway journey.
"You had better go below and get your dress changed, Helga; my mother will show you where your berth is. What you want is a warm woollen dress that a little sea water will not hurt. There are several belonging to my mother on board."
When Helga came up, they were at sea. The pilot was steering. Mrs. Hardy was sitting on a wicker chair on deck. Some one in a sailor's dress placed a chair for her.
"When you are tired of sitting here," said Hardy,for he it was, "you can go into the deck-house and lie down. We shall have dinner at six. There is Samsø, and before you rise to-morrow we shall be at Copenhagen, I shall have to be up all night."
The yacht delighted Helga. The dinner was served so well that it surprised her; and when they came on deck, it was a pleasure to see the distant lights in the fine summer's night, and to feel the yacht rushing through the smooth sea.
"I do like this. Hardy," she said. "Must I go to my berth? I would rather be on deck and hear your voice now and then."
"No," said Hardy; "because you must not draw off my attention. We have to look after the pilot, and I am the only man on board that knows Danish;" and Helga went at once.
Mrs. Hardy, who had heard what had passed, was pleased to see her rapid compliance with what was necessary.
When Helga came on deck the next day, they were at anchor near the Custom House at Copenhagen. Mrs. Hardy was already up, and they had breakfast.
Hardy gave some necessary orders as to coaling, and they went ashore and saw the Museum of Northern Antiquities, Thorwaldsen's Museum, and much else, and lunched at the Hotel d'Angleterre in the King's New Market, or Kongens Nytorv.
"Now, Helga, what is there more to see?" asked Hardy.
"There is the picture gallery in Christiansborg Slot, but there are so many steps up to it that it will fatigue Mrs. Hardy; but, if we might, I should like to call and see Axel, and arrange about his coming back with us," said Helga. "To-morrow you could see Rosenborg, which is certain to interest you; we have to give notice to-day to the curator."
"I shall be henpecked, mother," said Hardy. "She orders everything already."
"No, you will not," said Helga, who understood him, although he had spoken in English. "I shall give my life to you, and my will too." There was no mistaking the look in those blue eyes. "You might be interested," she added, "in going to the Royal Theatre. The play to-night is one of Holberg's comedies, 'Den pantsatte Bondedreng,' that is, 'The Farmer's Boy left in Pledge.' It is a good play and popular. I can tell the story of the play to Mrs. Hardy before she goes, as you. Hardy, already know it."
"I give myself entirely in your hands, Helga. You shall be obeyed before marriage, and obey me after," said Hardy, laughing.
"It is not a question of obedience," replied Helga. "I am yours altogether when I am your wife."
As she had said this in Danish, Hardy explained to his mother.
Mrs. Hardy said, "She is a jewel, John, and without price;" and rose from her seat and kissed her on the parting of her hair.
"Don't do that, mother," said John; "you make me wish to kiss her head off."