A HOLIDAY SCENE IN THE PROVINCE OF DALECARLIAA HOLIDAY SCENE IN THE PROVINCE OF DALECARLIA
A HOLIDAY SCENE IN THE PROVINCE OF DALECARLIA
Fru Hansson saw the tears come into Greta's eyes, and she quickly said, "Very well. It shall be as the Herr Baron wishes. The wedding shall take place on Midsummer Eve."
So the invitations were sent out.
That evening Erik dined with the banker and his family. The banker's little girl was named Inga and the boy, Johan. Johan was Erik's age; Inga was younger.
When dinner was over, the children were excused from the table and both rushed up to their parents crying, "I first! I first!"
This same thing happened every day. They always argued as to which should be the first to kiss their parents and to thank them for their bountiful meal.
Erik was bursting with happiness and also with the bountiful meal. Herr Banker's letter was safely tucked away in his pocket.He wondered whether it might not be well to send it right off. But he decided not to.
He wanted to be there to watch Greta's joy and Nils's relief and the Baron's departure. Besides, what difference would a few days make? Erik could hardly have guessed.
And so, the letter still in his pocket, he left Stockholm several days later with Herr Banker and his family. They were bound for the island of Gotland.
As the boat pulled out of the harbor, Erik was so excited that he nearly fell over the rail. Johan pulled him back by the coattails.
Next morning at daybreak the passengers were on deck to see the famous skyline of Visby (vēs´bü), Gotland's "City of Ruins and Roses." It is one of the oldest in western Europe.
"They call Visby 'the Lost City,'" said Johan, "because once it was supposed to be down at the bottom of the sea."
Later as they entered the dream-like town, with its roofless ruins and rose-covered cottages, Erik almost believed the strange legend to be true.
A STREET IN VISBYA STREET IN VISBY
A STREET IN VISBY
But the truth is that, years ago, this tiny island town was the richest and most important trading center on the Baltic Sea.
Great walls surrounded it, with towers and gateways and moats. These walls are still there—a medieval memory of grandeur and strength.
The boys left Herr Banker, Fru Banker, and young Inga at an open-air cafe, sipping coffee, and started off to explore.
They stood in a market square before the ruins of a fine old cathedral, and they thought of the sacking of Visby. In 1361, the King of Denmark captured the town. He sat upon a throne in the market place, while the terrified people laid the wealth of their city at his feet.
There was a battle, and eighteen hundred peasants were killed. The boys visited a museum, where they saw relics and learned how the townspeople were tortured by the Danish king.
They felt further depressed, as they went to the spot where sea robbers of old were hanged. They gazed raptly upon the gallows tree where pirates used to dangle.
"Like washing hanging out to dry, I suppose," said Erik solemnly.
Finally they stood on the warm beach, and they thought of the Vikings. Johan told Erik that those rugged seafarers had once lived upon this island.
"They traveled to far countries," said the banker's son, "and they brought back their treasure. They settled in many other places, too: in Scotland and Ireland and even in North America."
Johan knew so much. Erik wanted toshow that he, too, knew interesting things.
So he said, "Old Scandinavian legends say that Leif Ericson was the first Norseman to land in North America."
That was important. Erik stuck his hands firmly into his pockets and frowned knowingly.
But Johan added, "Leif Ericson was said to have named that country Vinland because he and his men found grapes growing wild there. Today it is part of the United States. Historians think it may have been the states of Virginia and Maryland."
Erik frowned more heavily than ever. Was there nothing that Johan didn't know?
Erik said furiously, "TheMonitorwas a famous United States battleship. It was built by a Swede."
"There now," he thought, "I've told him something."
But again Johan added, "His name wasJohn Ericsson, and he also invented the first ship's screw propeller."
Erik made a noise like a porpoise coming out of the water for air. Could he never get ahead of Johan?
They started back to join the family. All the way, Johan talked about the disasters that had robbed Visby of her power: fights among the merchants, the Black Death, and the siege by the King of Denmark. Finally other countries captured her trade and Visby became "the Lost City."
The following day, the banker's party left the island and returned to the mainland.
"Little boys must never play with matches," said Herr Banker and laughed.
Erik did not know what he meant. They were on the train going to Jönköping (yûn´chû´pĭng).
When they arrived, Erik discovered that the town of Jönköping is the home of theSwedish Match Company. It was clean and well kept and full of flowers, though it is a factory center.
Erik wanted to see the factories, but Herr Banker informed him that it was against the rules for visitors to enter the buildings.
"They guard their secrets," said Herr Banker. Then he asked the boys some questions. "How many people on earth do you suppose use Swedish matches?" he inquired.
They looked at him with blank expressions.
Herr Banker answered, "Two out of every three. And how many different box labels do you think are made?" he next inquired.
Their faces resembled pink zeros.
"Nine thousand, and in different languages," he told them. "Certain uncivilized countries use these match boxes in place of money."
From Jönköping they traveled throughthe province of Smaland, (smō´länd) where for centuries men have been making glass.
In the south, they visited the Cathedral of Lund, where a sacred grove once grew. London, England, was also built upon a sacred "lund," which means "grove" in Swedish.
At noontime, people flocked to the great cathedral to hear and see a most unusual clock. Mechanical figures marched out, music played, and Erik's mouth fell open.
Inga, who was full of mischief, dropped her rubber ball into Erik's mouth, and he was so wrapped up in the music that he started to chew it. He came back to earth quite abruptly.
They were now in the province of Scania (skā´nĭ-ȧ). The ancestors of these Scanians are supposed to have given the name, Scandinavia, to the countries of Sweden, Norway, Denmark, and Finland.
A COUNTRY SCENE IN SKANEA COUNTRY SCENE IN SKANE
A COUNTRY SCENE IN SKANE
Scania is rich and beautiful. It is called "the granary of Sweden." Its plains are dotted with fine old castles and estates.
They reminded Erik of his beloved Hanssonborg, and he pulled the banker's letter to Fru Hansson out of his pocket. Should he send the letter to Fru Hansson?
Erik had gone out alone today and was wandering about the city of Hälsingborg (hĕl´sĭng-bŏr´y'). Johan had stayed at the hotel, nursing a blister on a travel-weary foot. Fru Banker and Inga were resting, and Herr Banker had gone to Copenhagen (kō´p'n-hā´gĕn), Denmark. He would be back for dinner.
HÄLSINGBORGHÄLSINGBORG
HÄLSINGBORG
Erik felt a bit concerned. The trip had taken much longer than he had expected, and there was, even now, no mention of their return home.
He stood on one of the many slopes of the city, which is called "Pearl of the Sound,"and he looked across at the Danish coast. Over there was historic Elsinore, the scene of Shakespeare's play, "Hamlet."
Erik knew only one line from that play, and it was: "To be or not to be; that is the question." His question was: Should he or should he not post Fru Hansson's letter?
He did not want to post it. He wanted to bring it home himself. He could imagine the exciting scene. He saw himself handing the letter to Fru Hansson with a flourish. He pictured her beaming gratitude.
Greta would muss up his hair and laugh and call him her brave knight. Then the Baron would eat up all his pills, including the bottles, and Nils would marry Greta.
They would "live happily ever afterwards." These were Erik's favorite words in thefairy tales, and there was a whole library offairy talesstuffed inside of Erik. He longed to take part in one.
So he decided not to post the letter, but to bring it home himself. It meant nothing to him that Midsummer Eve was fast approaching.
The banker's family journeyed to Gothenburg (gŏt´ĕn-bûrg), Sweden's second city and most important seaport. Herr Banker told them how it had been founded.
GOTHENBURGGOTHENBURG
GOTHENBURG
"One day," said he, "a little bird fell at the feet of the soldier-king, Gustavus Adolphus. It had been pursued by an eagle. Gustavus believed this to be a good sign, so he built a city in the valley below."
In the Gothenburg Art Museum they saw the paintings of Sweden's great artist, Anders Zorn. Herr Banker took them to the busy harbor. It was filled with fishing boats and many tiny islands, which looked like red-brown freckles on the water. The sun shone down with real Swedish energy, as though enjoying its work.
Erik heard Herr Banker say that tomorrow they were to leave for Stockholm. They were to cross Sweden in the train.
"And tomorrow night we shall be at home once more," said Fru Banker.
"Oh, let us go by way of the Göta (yû´tä) Canal!" begged Johan. "Erik has never been there, and it is so much fun!"
"But it will take three days longer," objected Fru Banker.
She was eager to return, for there was much to be done in preparation for the yearly holiday at their country home.
"Oh, please!" urged Johan, and now Inga and Erik joined in the chorus. "Please, please!" they cried. "The Göta Canal!"
Fru Banker hesitated. "The time is flying by," she said. "Midsummer Eve will soon be—"
But the chorus of voices shouting, "Please! Please!" drowned out her words.
Fru Banker agreed to return to Stockholm by way of the Göta Canal. Herr Banker assured her that they would be home two days before Midsummer Eve; and so she was satisfied.
THE GÖTA CANALTHE GÖTA CANAL
THE GÖTA CANAL
The attractive little canal boat pulled out of Gothenburg's cobbled docks. The Göta River made a lazy pathway through fields and meadows.
It was like floating through land, and one could almost touch the horses and cows in the pastures close by.
Erik felt just the way he did at the circus. There was so much to see that he could not possibly see it all. The river was so narrowin places that at times it seemed as though the ship would stick between shores. But the captain always steered them through safely.
The boat was lifted up and down for seventy-two locks. Erik never tired of watching the lock gates opening and closing.
THE LOCK AT TROLLHÄTTAN, ON THE GÖTA CANALTHE LOCK AT TROLLHÄTTAN, ON THE GÖTA CANAL
THE LOCK AT TROLLHÄTTAN, ON THE GÖTA CANAL
Frequently the boat would stop to take on passengers and freight. At these times, Erik and Johan would jump off and wander about the countryside. It was upon one of these excursions that something happened to them.
They had been passing medieval castles along the route. Among them was Bohus,once a powerful stronghold, whose two ruined towers are now called Father's Hat and Mother's Cap.
Another was Läcko (lĕck´ō) Castle, which sits upon Lake Väner (vĕ´nẽr), the largest lake in Europe, except for those in Russia. Erik was charmed with Läcko's fierce mystery.
But as the great bulk of Vadstena (vaud´stān-ȧ) Castle came into view across Lake Vätter (vĕt´tẽr), Erik felt a thrill of pride. He could hardly wait to visit it.
Whenever the boys left the boat, Fru Banker cautioned them to remember to return in time. For, should they be late, the boat would go off without them.
Now, however, as they examined Vadstena Castle, with its ancient moats and ramparts, they forgot this advice. Their minds were filled with pictures of the days when Sweden was at war, when Gustavus Vasa (gŭs tā´vŭs vä´sȧ),who built it, gained independence for the Swedish people.
GUSTAVUS VASA (STOCKHOLM)GUSTAVUS VASA (STOCKHOLM)
GUSTAVUS VASA (STOCKHOLM)
Wandering farther and farther from the boat, the boys talked of their hero.
"I heard," said Erik, "that once Gustavus Vasa dressed himself as a peasant and went from village to village, trying to raise anarmy with which to fight the Danish King."
Johan gave him a look which plainly said, "Everybody knows that," and added, "He had to give up, though. He started to leave the country, hungry and discouraged, when the people of Dalecarlia sent ski-runners after him and brought him back."
"There is a ski competition every year," barked Erik, "and the ski-runners cover the same ground that Gustavus Vasa traveled that day!" He'd show Johan!
But Johan calmly returned, "I've been there. I've seen his statue at Mora, which is the finish of the race."
Erik glared. Then suddenly and for no reason, except that he had nothing more to say, he cried, "I'll race you!"
They ran off in the opposite direction from the river and their boat. Like two wild creatures, they dashed across a road, where bicycles, like metal flies in swarms, rang bellsof fury at them. An old gentleman, carrying a basket on the handlebars of his bicycle, became so flustered that he wobbled from side to side and nearly toppled over.
The boys ran on. At last, breathless, they stopped. The race was a tie. They were now at the other end of the village and, all at once, they both remembered.
"The boat!" they gasped. Back they started, dizzy and tired, stumbling wearily. "It won't wait!"
Erik had sunk down on the side of the road, and Johan now collapsed beside him.
"We—can—t-take the next b-boat!" he puffed. "It leaves t-tomorrow and will get us to S-Stockholm a day later."
"That will be all right," said Erik. "We're in no hurry."
It was like an adventure to Erik, and he was enjoying it. He did not realize what a day later would mean. He did not realizethat it would bring him to Stockholm only the day before Midsummer Eve, when Greta was to be married to the Baron.
After a while they felt refreshed, so they decided to return to the river bank and findout whether, by any chance, the boat had waited for them.
THE BOYS FELT REFRESHEDTHE BOYS FELT REFRESHED
THE BOYS FELT REFRESHED
They hardly expected this; but it is exactly what had happened. Herr Banker had persuaded the captain to hold the boat.
Herr Banker had growled angrily, "Those young rascals have forgotten the time. It's fortunate that their heads are connected with their bodies, else they'd forget them, too, and leave them somewhere."
He was trying to cheer Fru Banker, but she was distressed and quite certain that the boys were at the bottom of the river.
At last the captain said that he could wait no longer. So Herr Banker, his wife, and Inga prepared to go ashore, when along came Erik and Johan. They were just in time to clamber on board as the boat pulled away.
Fru Banker was so glad to see them that she hugged them both and forgot to scold.
But Herr Banker said, "I am going to punish you. I had planned to take you to Uppsala (ŭp´sȧ-lȧ) with me for Midsummer Eve, but now I shall send Erik home as soon as we return to Stockholm."
Erik was disappointed. He had always wanted to see the famous Uppsala University, founded by Gustavus Vasa, five centuries ago.
Yet, in a way, he was glad that he was going home. This punishment of Herr Banker's would mean that he could spend Midsummer Eve with Greta and Nils. How happy they would be after he had given Herr Banker's letter to Fru Hansson!
But Johan pouted and whined, "Oh, please, father, take Erik and me to Uppsala for Midsummer Eve. Please, please!"
Johan seemed to be able to work miracles with that word, "please." Erik could see that Herr Banker was beginning to weaken.
"Tomorrow is Midsummer Eve," sighed Nils.
The blue lake near Hanssonborg glistened as Nils rowed to shore. It was the first time in his life that Nils had not welcomed Midsummer Eve. This year he dreaded it.
He hated the air of festive excitement that hung about the big house. Yesterday he had passed Greta, walking with her dogs, and she had run from him, looking like a frightened child. Nils had wanted to tear out trees by their roots.
"Tomorrow is Midsummer Eve!"
He beached the rowboat and stalked back to his hut on the edge of the wood. He wonderedwhat Erik was doing and where he was. He had missed his little brother. Still he was glad that the boy would not be here tomorrow for Greta's wedding.
Erik would be heartbroken. He might even attempt some mischief and try to break up the wedding. It would be just like Erik. Nils remembered the ghost of the Valkyrie at Christmas time.
But that same morning, Erik was walking quietly about through a peaceful university with Herr Banker and Johan. For Johan's magic "please" had won again. Herr Banker had forgiven the boys and had taken them to Uppsala. He had left his wife and Inga at home in Stockholm.
UPPSALAUPPSALA
UPPSALA
They were now standing before the Uppsala Cathedral, the largest church in Sweden, and Herr Banker was saying, "Gustavus Vasa is buried here. Also there is buried here the noted naturalist, Linnaeus(lĭ-nē´ŭs), who taught at the university for over thirty years."
They gazed up at the huge castle on its hill. Those brick walls recorded history and the boys listened while Herr Banker told them the story of Queen Christina.
"Christina was the daughter of Gustavus Adolphus," he said. "When she was eighteen years old, she became queen. Only she insisted upon taking the oath as King of Sweden. She ruled for ten years, a colorful and brilliant personality. But then came the dramatic day when Christina threw off her regal robes, tore off her crown, and renounced the throne forever."
Down the pink-tinted paths they walked to the town. At their hotel, a telegram awaited Herr Banker. He frowned at it.
Then he lifted his head and said to the boys, "I am called back to Stockholm on important business. We must leave at once."
"But, Father, you promised we might stay here for Midsummer Eve," objected Johan.
"That has become impossible," said Herr Banker.
"Then Erik shall return to Stockholm with us," cried the spoiled Johan.
"No," replied Herr Banker firmly. "Erik must go home. We are quite close to his province. We shall put him on the train, and he will reach Hanssonborg this afternoon."
Johan began to "please," and Erik wondered whether he would again persuade his father. Herr Banker hesitated. Then he turned to Erik and asked him if he would like to return to Stockholm with them, or whether he preferred going home.
Erik was about to reply that he wanted to go home, when Johan caught his arm and exclaimed, "Why, of course you want to come to Stockholm with me, Erik. Think of the fun we shall have!"
For a moment Erik was tempted. It would be interesting to spend a few more days in the glorious capital, "the Venice of the North." He also wanted to spend Midsummer Eve with Greta and Nils. What should he do?
"Erik will come with us, Father," decided Johan, when suddenly Erik decided otherwise.
"Thank you, Herr Banker," he said. "I have had a fine trip with you, but now I must go home."
Johan always got whatever he wanted. Well, thought Erik, this was one time when he should not. So, a short time later, Erik was alone on the clean little train, bound for his province.
DALECARLIA PEASANTS SHEARING SHEEPDALECARLIA PEASANTS SHEARING SHEEP
DALECARLIA PEASANTS SHEARING SHEEP
When he arrived home, the first thing he did was to rush into his mother's arms. Hardly had he done this, however, than he wriggled free again and flew to the big house—Fru Hansson's house.
He ran right through the kitchen, past the cook, like a flash of lightning. Then he broke into the library, where he found Fru Hansson arranging flowers. She looked up, startled and displeased.
"What do you mean by bursting in like—?"
But she did not finish, for Erik whipped the banker's letter out of his pocket, flashed it under her nose, and cried, "Here it is, Fru Hansson! A letter from Herr Banker! And it promises money for Hanssonborg."
Fru Hansson read the letter. Then shelooked down at the delighted face of the boy who stood before her, as important as a Swedish Paul Revere. His blond hair was tousled, and his cheeks were flushed with excitement. He was waiting for the glory that was to be his. But it did not come.
Fru Hansson said, "This is very kind of Herr Banker, and we can use the loan. It was also thoughtful of you, Erik, to bring the letter. Thank you. Now you must go. I am very busy."
He was dismissed. Nothing had happened as he had expected it to happen. Only "thank you" and a cold dismissal! A shadow fell over the golden page of Erik'sfairy tale.
He took a step forward. "But, Fru Hansson—" he began.
"I said I was busy, Erik," she repeated. "There is much to be done before the wedding feast tomorrow."
The wedding feast! Erik's cheeks paled.
"Oh, but Fru Hansson," he cried, "there will be no wedding now."
Fru Hansson had a straight back, and her head was like a proud swan riding upon it.
"Go, Erik," she said. "And you may tell your mother to come. Cook needs her to help in the kitchen."
Erik reached for her hand. There were big tears in his eyes.
"Oh, please, Fru Hansson," he said, "don't make Greta marry Baron von Engstrom!"
Fru Hansson felt a strange little hurt down in her heart. She squeezed the small hand and replied kindly, "I have given the Baron my promise, child. Now go."
Erik found Greta in the garden. As he poured out his story, she listened sympathetically.
"But even though Hanssonborg does not need the Baron's money now," he finished,"your mother will not call off the wedding because she has given her promise."
"And so," said Greta, "Karl is to be master of Hanssonborg tomorrow!" Her lake-blue eyes had turned ocean-green.
"Oh, but he must not! He must never be master of Hanssonborg," cried Erik. "Baron von Engstrom is a coward!"
Greta gave Erik a strange, quick look. "If my mother believed that," she said, "the wedding would be called off at once."
"Then she must believe it," said Erik, "because it is true."
"How can you be so sure, Erik?" asked Greta. "Baron Karl is often quite ill. We must be fair to him."
"I will prove to Fru Hansson that he is a coward!" cried Erik.
Greta laughed. "Come for a walk with me, Erik," she said. "It may be our last one for a long time."
They started off through the beautiful forest together, and by dinner time Greta had not yet returned. Erik had come home. He was in his cottage, gazing innocently out of the window. Summer twilight hung over the land, silvery purple. It would linger far into the night.
Fru Hansson and the Baron waited at the big house, but still Greta did not arrive. Servants were sent to look for her. She was nowhere to be found. Evening wore on. Now everybody on the estate was searching for Greta, and the Baron was having a chill.
Greta had disappeared.
A YOUNG WEAVER AT THE FAMOUS SÄTERGLANTANS WEAVING SCHOOL IN DALECARLIAA YOUNG WEAVER AT THE FAMOUS SÄTERGLANTANS WEAVING SCHOOL IN DALECARLIA
A YOUNG WEAVER AT THE FAMOUS SÄTERGLANTANS WEAVING SCHOOL IN DALECARLIA
The Baron was having a chill. Yet he could not remain indoors when everyone else was out searching for Greta. So he stepped timidly into the garden. He sniffed the fragrant air and glanced nervously about. The night was warm, but the Herr Baron was completely wrapped up in his great coat.
How unpleasant of Greta to disappear like this! And just when everything was all planned for the wedding and everyone was so happy! Greta must be found.
He took a step forward, and as he did so, a figure suddenly appeared out of the bushes. Herr Baron uttered a sound like a steam whistle with the croup and began to tremble.
"Good evening, sir," said a clear, young voice.
It was Erik. He had come over to the big house purposely to tell the Baron the story which he now began.
"Greta was left out on an island," he whispered dramatically. "Out in the middle of the lake."
The Baron attempted a laugh. It was a sad attempt. He shook his finger at Erik.
"You naughty b-boy!" he stuttered. "Once b-before you tried to f-frighten me. I d-do not believe you! R-run away!"
Erik did not run away. "I've told you the truth," he said. "Greta is on that island, and if you do not go for her, she'll stay there all night."
The Baron bit his lip. "If this is true," he said, "I must send someone for her at once."
Erik bowed and was silent. But the Baron seemed to sense in his silence the question,"Why does not Baron Karl go himself? Is he a coward?"
The little man drew himself up. "Where is the island?" he asked.
"Come," said Erik. "I will show you."
He led the way to the edge of the lake. The white night lit up the countryside and gave to it an elfin beauty. Erik pointed to a deserted strip of land far out in the center of the lake.
"That," he said, "is the island."
The Baron swallowed a pill. "Where is the boat?" he gulped. His voice still shook, but Erik began to wonder if perhaps Baron Karl was braver than he had supposed.
If so, this would be a good joke on Erik. For it was he who had left Greta on the island. They had rowed there together that afternoon, and soon after they had landed, Erik had quietly slipped away in the boat.
Greta had cried out to him to come back,but he had paid no attention to her and had rowed rapidly to shore. He had been carrying out a plan to prove that Baron Karl was a coward. But now, if the Baron should really rescue Greta, that plan would fail.
"Where is the boat?" the Baron repeated, and Erik was about to reply, when the most terrifying scream echoed from across the lake.
Erik gave a violent start. This was no part of his plan. Something real must have happened to Greta.
He turned to the Baron, but the Baron was gone. He was running away, toward home. Erik rushed after him.
"Come back!" he cried. He clutched at the Baron's coat. "Please come back! Now, youmustsave Greta. She is in real danger."
Baron Karl's teeth were chattering.
"L-let me go!" he quavered. "I'll bring help!"
He broke away and fled toward the big house. Erik was left standing alone, and out of the silence came another scream.
Erik felt like the boy in the tale who cried, "Wolf, wolf!" for fun, and then one day was really surrounded by wolves. His harmless trick had turned into a horrible disaster.
He was too small to think of going to Greta's aid all alone. Nils! He would go for Nils.
When he reached his father's cottage, he burst into the kitchen where Nils was studying with the lamp shining on his face. He cried, "Quick, Nils! Greta is in danger." And in less time than it would seem possible, they were hurrying toward the lake.
"QUICK, NILS! GRETA IS IN DANGER""QUICK, NILS! GRETA IS IN DANGER"
"QUICK, NILS! GRETA IS IN DANGER"
The screams had grown louder. Puffing and panting, Erik followed Nils into the rowboat. Nils picked up the oars. He pulled them with powerful arms, and the boat skimmed ahead.
Before they reached the island, however, Erik pointed and cried, "Look, Nils! There is someone in the water."
It was Greta. She was struggling to keep afloat, sinking, then rising to the top again. Nils tore off his coat. He dived into the water and soon was back in the boat again, with Greta in his arms.
"Row to shore, Erik," he said, and Erik picked up the oars.
He saw Nils wrap his coat about Greta's shoulders. He heard Nils asking Greta what had happened to her.
Greta looked at Erik as she replied, "Erik left me alone on the island. As night fell, I thought of my mother and how worried she would be. I found a leaky, old raft and tried to return on it. But it sank, and I should have sunk, too, if you had not come."
"Why did you do such a terrible thing, Erik?" Nils was glowering, and Erik saw the scolding in his eyes.
Erik answered, "I did it to prove that Baron Karl is a coward."
GRETA, NILS AND ERIK ENTEREDGRETA, NILS AND ERIK ENTERED
GRETA, NILS AND ERIK ENTERED
Whereupon Erik told them how the Baron had run away. Then he lifted up his head and began to sing, splashing the oars about in time to his singing:
"The sun upon the silver lakeIs shining like a wedding cake."
"The sun upon the silver lakeIs shining like a wedding cake."
He did not look at Greta and Nils. He did not have to. He knew without looking that at last they were telling each other the truth. The "happily ever after" part of their story was coming true.
At the big house, Baron Karl was calling out the strongest and tallest servants to go with him to the island. He was fussing about in a panic, and Fru Hansson's nostrils were beginning to quiver with irritation.
Fru Hansson could not help wondering why the Baron had not gone to Greta's rescue himself. Instead, he had returned tothe house with shaking knees and a green face, whimpering for help.
The band of sturdy servants was now assembled. The Baron placed himself at their head, announcing that he would lead the way, but cautioning them to stay close behind him.
Feeling brave, with this great army of muscle to protect him, he started away, prancing like a perky cockatoo. But hardly had he reached the front door when Greta, Nils, and Erik entered.
The Baron and his troop halted in amazement. The Baron's mouth fell open like a hungry baby bird's.
Greta ran into her mother's arms. She explained what had happened, while Erik added his bit to the story. He did it with enthusiasm, and the Baron gargled and gurgled and finally cried out that Erik was not telling the truth. He glared furiously atthe two brothers and commanded Fru Hansson to "send away those common peasants!"
At that, Greta turned upon him. "Nils and Erik are my friends!" she flared angrily.
The Baron coughed. "Absurd!" he answered her. "And be good enough to remember that tomorrow you are to become Baroness von Engstrom!"
Now, after what Fru Hansson had seen of the Baron's behavior this evening, she was at last convinced that he was a coward.
So she lifted her haughty chin and announced in a firm voice, "There will be no wedding tomorrow. Baron von Engstromis advised that I forbid my daughter to marry him."
Next day, Erik watched the Baron's car drive away from Hanssonborg. As soon as it was out of sight, he raced over to the kitchen and, to Fru Svenson's astonishment, danced a jig on the kitchen table.
DANCED A JIG ON THE KITCHEN TABLEDANCED A JIG ON THE KITCHEN TABLE
DANCED A JIG ON THE KITCHEN TABLE
Then he fell into the flour bin. He came out white as snow and, though Fru Svenson wanted to be cross with him, she had to laugh instead.
The months passed. Nils had begun to help Fru Hansson in the running of the estate. He was proving a clever manager. But he had not yet asked for Greta's hand in marriage.
With autumn came cleaning time. And what a cleaning it was! Everything scrubbed and polished and washed! There were harvest festivals, at which the peasants danced on the threshing floor.
Erik spent as much time as he could visiting Fru Svenson, sitting over bowls of small shellfish, pulling off the claws, and stuffing himself. For this was crawfish season in Sweden and crawfish decorated tables everywhere. They were even designed upon dishes and napkins and painted upon signs.
Autumn was also shooting season, and hunting parties were given at the country estates.
All during the winter, the peasants spun at their looms. Everybody was busy. Fru Hansson began to count profits.
Yet Nils and Greta still hesitated about asking the proud lady's consent to their marriage. They feared that she would refuse it. Nils was only a poor agricultural student.
One day Erik received a letter from Johan, the banker's son, inviting him again to visit the banker's family in Stockholm.
This time, the family did not travel andErik learned to know Sweden's beautiful capital. He even went to the opera. A guest artist sang in a foreign language, but the other performers sang in Swedish.
A SWEDISH STREET MUSICIANA SWEDISH STREET MUSICIAN
A SWEDISH STREET MUSICIAN
This experience filled Erik with a great desire to become a singer some day. He sang constantly from that time on, unless he happened to be eating or sleeping.
When he returned to Hanssonborg, he was eager to hear whether Nils and Greta had yet obtained Fru Hansson's consent to their marriage.
It was again midsummer, and over the door of his parents' cottage hung branches of birch trees. This was a yearly custom which started with the ancient belief that the spirit of the tree will bless the house.
"Mother!" called Erik, running inside. There was no answer. He stood on the pine floor. It had been covered with fresh birch leaves.
He called again. "Nils!"
Still no answer. Nobody was home.
He went over to the big house, straight to the kitchen, and there he found things in astate of bustling excitement. Fru Svenson's face was flaming red. Something was going on—something very important.
"Good day, Fru Svenson," Erik greeted her. "Where is my mother?"
Fru Svenson turned with a bowl of cakes in her hand. "Your mother is helping thebride, and you must not bother her. Are you hungry, child?"
Now Fru Svenson knew that this last remark was unnecessary. Erik was always hungry.
So she was greatly surprised when he ignored her question and asked quickly, "Is Greta to be married?"
"Tomorrow," replied Fru Svenson, and set the dish of cakes before him on the table. "She is to wed a great nobleman."
With a sudden shove of his arm, Erik swept the dish off the table, and it crashed to the floor.
"What!" he cried. "She is not to marry Nils?"
Fru Svenson's two big hands settled upon her fleshy hips. She narrowed her eyes at the broken dish lying in pieces on the floor. Then she raised them to Erik's flushed face. He was breathing hard, and the look he gaveher was pathetic. With an unexpected gesture, Fru Svenson swept him into her arms and hugged him close.
"Bless you, child!" she cried. "Don't look like that. It was your brother Nils whom I meant when I said that Greta was to marrya great nobleman. Nils is the greatest nobleman in the land and will make Hanssonborg a strong and clever manager."
The following day, the golden sun awoke and seemed to know that this was to be his day. The pagans who lived in ancient times used to worship the sun, and the Swedish celebration on Midsummer Eve is as joyous and natural as those festivities which took place many years ago.