“Look at the calming sea. The waves still tremble in the
depths, and stem to fear the gale.--Over my head is hovering
the shadowy mist.--My curls are wet with the filling dew.”
--OSSIAN.
Otto had not as yet visited the sand-hills on the strand, the fishermen,
or the peasants, among whom formerly he had spent all his spare time.
The beautiful summer’s day drove him forth, his heart yearned to drink
in the summer warmth.
Only the roads between the larger towns are here tolerable, or rather
as tolerable as the country will allow. The by-ways were only to be
discerned by the traces of cart-wheels, which ran on beside each other;
at certain places, to prevent the wheels sinking into the deep sand,
ling had been spread; where this is not the case, and the tracks cross
each other, a stranger would scarcely find the way. Here the landmark
places its unseen boundary between neighboring possessions.
Every farm, every cottage, every hill, was an old acquaintance to Otto.
He directed his steps toward Harbooere, a parish which, one may say,
consists of sand and water, but which, nevertheless, is not to be
called unfruitful. A few of the inhabitants pursue agriculture, but the
majority consists of fishermen, who dwell in small houses and have no
land.
His first encounter upon his wandering was with one of those large
covered wagons with which the so-called eelmen, between the days of St.
John and St. Bartholomew, go with eels toward the small towns lying
to the south and east, and then, laden with apples and garden produce,
return home--articles which are rapidly consumed by the common people.
The eelman stopped when he saw and recognized Otto.
“Welcome, Mr. Otto!” said he. “Yes, you are come over abut a sad affair!
That Major Thostrup should have gone off so! But there was nothing else
to be expected from him he was old enough.”
“Death demands his right!” replied Otto, and pressed the man’s hand.
“Things go, doubtless, well with you, Morten Chraenseu?”
“The whole cart full of eels, and some smoked carp! It is also good to
meet with you, Mr. Otto. Upon the land a preacher is very good, but
not upon the sea, as they say at home. Yes, you are certainly now a
preacher, or will become one?”
“No, I am not studying to become a preacher!” answered Otto.
“No! will you then become a lawyer? It strikes me you are clever
enough--you have no need to study any more! You will just go and say
a few words to them at home? The grandmother sits and spins yarn for
eel-nets. She has now the cataract on the other eye, but her mouth is as
well as ever; she does not let herself grow dumb, although she does sit
in the dark. Mother provides the baits; she has also enough to do with
the hooks.”
“But Maria, the lively little Maria?” said Otto.
“The girl? She has gone this year with the other fishergirls to
Ringkjoebing, to be hired for the hay and corn harvest; we thought we
could do without her at home. But now, God willing! I must travel on.”
Cordially he shook Otto’s hand, and pursued his slow journey.
The brothers of the eelman were active fishermen, as their father
had been before them; and although they were all married they lived
together. The swarm of children was not insignificant; young and old
formed one family, in which the old grandmother had the first voice.
Otto approached the dwelling; before it lay a little plot of land,
planted with potatoes and carrots, and also beds of onions and thyme.
Two large bull-dogs, with sharp teeth and wicked eyes, rushed toward
Otto. “Tyv! Grumsling!” shrieked a voice, and the dogs let fall their
tails and drew back, with a low growl, toward the house. Here at the
threshold sat an old woman in a red woolen jacket, with a handkerchief
of the same material and same color about her neck, and upon her head
a man’s black felt hat. She spun. Otto immediately recognized the old
blind grandmother.
“God’s peace be in the house!” said he.
“That voice I have not heard for a year and a day!” replied the old
woman, and raised her head, as if she would see him with her dead eyes.
“Are not you Major Thostrup’s Otto? You resemble him in the voice. I
thought, truly, that if you came here you would pay us a visit. Ide
shall leave the baits and put on the kettle, that you may have a cup of
coffee. Formerly you did not use to despise our entertainment. You have
not grown proud with your journey, have you? The coffee-vetch [Author’s
Note: Astragalus baeticus is used as a substitute for coffee, and is
principally grown upon the sand-hills west of Holmsland. It is first
freed from the husk, and then dried and roasted a little.] is good; it
is from Holmsland, and tastes better than the merchant’s beans.” The
dogs still growled at Otto. “Cannot you stupid beasts, who have still
eyes in your heads to see with, recognize that this is the Major’s
Otto?” cried she wrathfully, and gave them several good blows with her
hand.
Otto’s arrival created a great stir in the little household that he was
welcome, you might see by every countenance.
“Yes,” said the grandmother, “now you are grown much wiser in the town,
could, very likely, were it needful, write an almanac! You will very
likely have found for yourself a little bride there, or will you fetch
one out of Lemvig? for no doubt she must be from a town! Yes, I have
known him ever since he was a little fellow; yonder, on the wall, he
made, out of herrings’ heads, the living devil, just as he lives and
breathes. He thrust our sucking-pig into the eel-cart, between the
casks. We sought a whole day after the sucking-pig without finding him,
and he was forced to make the journey with them to Holstebro. Yes,
he was a wild fellow! Later, when he was obliged to learn so much, he
became sad. Yes, yes, within the last years his books have overdone
him!”
“Yes, many a time has he put out to sea with my husband!” pursued one of
the daughters-in-law. “One night he remained out with him. How anxious
the French Mamsell at the hall was about him!”
“He was never haughtty,” said the grandmother. “He nibbled his dried
fish with the fresh fish, and drank a little cup of water, although he
was used to better things at home. But to-day we have white bread, fresh
and good; it came yesterday from Lemvig.”
The brandy-glass, with its wooden, red-painted foot, was placed before
Otto. Under the bed there was an anker of brandy,--“a little stock,” as
all stranded goods are here called.
Otto inquired after the married sons. They were with their men on the
shore, ready to embark on their fishing expedition, The grandmother
would accompany him thither; they were not yet departed: she should
first take them provisions.
The old woman took her stick, the dog sprang forward, and now commenced
their wandering among the sand-hills, where their huts or booths, built
with rafters and smeared with earth, stood. Around lay the refuse of
fish,--heads and entrails, thrown about. The men were just then busied
in carrying the trough and fishing-tackle [Author’s Note: A “Bakke”
consists of three lines, each of 200 Danish ells, or about 135 yards,
and of 200 fishing-hooks; the stretched “Bakke” is thus about 200 yards,
with 600 hooks; these are attached to the line with strings half an
ell long and as thick as fine twine. To each “Bakke” belongs a square
trough, on which it is carried on board. To a larger fishing-boat are
reckoned six lots of hooks; each lot has eight to nine “Bakkes.”] on
board.
The open sea lay before them, almost as bright as a mirror, for the wind
was easterly. Near to them paused a horseman; he was partly dressed
like a peasant, with riding-breeches on, which were buttoned down at the
sides.
“Have you heard the news?” he cried to Otto. “I come from Ringkjoebing.
At Merchant Cohen’s I have read the German paper; there is a revolution
in France! Charles X. is fled with the whole royal family. Yes, in
Paris, there is fine work!”
“The French are a wild people!” said the grandmother. “A king and a
queen they have beheaded in my time; now they will do the same with
these. Will our dear Lord suffer that such things be done to His
anointed?”
“There will be war again!” said one of the fishermen.
“Then more horses will go out of the country,” said the stranger,
pressed Otto’s hand, and vanished behind the sandhills.
“Was not that the horse-dealer from Varde?” inquired Otto.
“Yes, he understands languages,” said the fisherman; “and thus he
is acquainted with foreign affairs sooner than we. Then they are now
fighting in France! Blood flows in the streets; it will not be so in
Denmark before the Turk binds his horse to the bush in the Viborg Lake.
And then, according to the prophecy of the sibyl, it will be near the
end of the world.”
Meanwhile, everything was prepared for their embarkation. If Mr. Otto
would take the further oar, and was inclined to pass the night on the
sea, there was a place for him in the boat. But he had promised Rosalie
to be back before evening. The grandmother now prayed, kneeling with the
others, and immediately after quick strokes of the oars the flat boat
rowed away from the shore. The fate of France was forgotten; their
calling occupied the fishermen.
The old woman seemed to listen to the strokes of the oars; her dead
eyes rested immovably on the sea. A sea-mew passed close to her in
its flight. “That was a bird!” said she. “Is there no one here beside
ourselves?”
“No; no one at all,” answered Otto, carelessly.
“Is no one in the hut, no one behind the sand-hills?” again asked
the grandmother. “It was not on account of the dried meat that I came
here--it was not to wet my face on the shore; I speak with you alone,
which I could not do in the house. Give me your hand! Now that the old
man rests in the grave, you yourself will guide the rudder; the estate
will be sold, and you will not come again to the west coast. Our Lord
has made it dark before my eyes before He has closed my ears and given
me leave to go. I can no longer see you, but I have you in my thought
as you looked before you left our land. That you are handsomer now I
can easily imagine; but gayer you are not! Talk you certainly can, and I
have heard you laugh; but that was little better than the two last years
you were here. Once it was different with you--no fairy could be wilder
than you!”
“With years one becomes more quiet,” said Otto, and gazed with
astonishment at the blind woman, who did not leave go his hand. “As a
boy I was far too merry--that could not continue; and that I should now
be grave, I have, as you will see, sufficient reason--I have lost my
last support.”
“Yes, truly, truly!” repeated she slowly, and as if pondering; then
shook her head. “That is not the reason. Do you not believe in the power
of the devil? our Lord Christ forgive me! do not you believe in the
power of wicked men? There is no greater difference between the human
child and the changeling brat which the underground spirits lay in his
stead in the cradle, than there is between you when you were a boy and
you as you became during the last year of your stay here. ‘That comes
from books, from so much learning,’ said I to other people. Could I only
have said so to myself! But you shall become gay; the trouble of your
heart shall wither like a poisonous weed. I know whence it sprung, and
will, with God’s help, heal it. Will you solemnly promise, that no soul
in the world shall learn what we speak of in this hour?”
“What have you to say to me?” asked Otto, affected by the extraordinary
earnestness of the old woman.
“The German Heinrich, the player! You remember him well? He is to blame
for your grief! Yes, his name drives the blood more quickly through your
pulse. I feel it, even if I cannot see your face.”
“The German Heinrich!” repeated Otto, and his hand really trembled.
Had Heinrich, then, when he was here three years ago, told her and the
fishermen that which no human being must know,--that which had destroyed
the gayety of his youth? “What have I to do with the German Heinrich?”
“Nothing more than a pious Christian has to do with the devil!” replied
she, and made the sign of the cross. “But Heinrich has whispered an evil
word in your ear; he has banished your joyous humor, as one banishes a
serpent.”
“Has he told you this?” exclaimed Otto, and breathed more quickly. “Tell
me all that he has said!”
“You will not make me suffer for it!” said she. “I am innocent, and yet
I have cooperated in it: it was only a word but a very unseemly word,
and for it one must account at the day of judgment!”
“I do not understand you!” said Otto, and his eyes glanced around to see
whether any one heard. They were quite alone. In the far distance the
boat with the fishermen showed itself like a dark speck.
“Do you remember how wild you were as a boy? How you fastened bladders
to the cat’s legs and tail, and flung her out of the loft-window that
she might fly? I do not say this in anger, for I thought a deal of you;
but when you became too insolent one might wall say, ‘Can no one, then,
curb this lad?’ See, these words I said!--that is my whole fault, but
since then have lain heavy on my heart. Three years ago came the German
Heinrich, and stayed two nights in our house; God forgive it us! Tricks
he could play, and he understood more than the Lord’s Prayer--more than
is useful to a man. With one trick you were to assist him, but when
he gave you the goblet you played your own tricks, and he could make
nothing succeed. You would also be clever. Then he cast an evil eye upon
you, although he was still so friendly and submissive, because you
were a gentleman’s child. Do you remember--no, you will certainly have
forgotten--how you once took the baits of the hooks off and hung my
wooden shoes on instead? Then I said in anger, and the anger of man
is never good, ‘Can no one, then, tame this boy for me? He was making
downright fun of you to your own face,’ said I to the player. ‘Do you
not know some art by which you can tame this wild-cat?’ Then he laughed
maliciously, but I thought no more of the matter. The following day,
however, he said, ‘Now I have curbed the lad! You should only see how
tame he is become; and should he ever again turn unruly, only ask him
what word the German Heinrich whispered in his ear, and you shall. Then
see how quiet he will become. He shall not mock this trick!’ My heart
was filled with horror, but I thought afterward it really meant
nothing. Ei! ei! from the hour he was here you are no longer the same as
formerly; that springs from the magical word he whispered in your ear.
You cannot pronounce the word, he told me; but by it you have been
enchanted: this, and not book-learning, has worked the change. But you
shall be delivered! If you have faith, and that you must have, you shall
again become gay, and I, spite of the evil words which I spoke, be able
to sleep peacefully in my grave. If you will only lay this upon your
heart, now that the moon is in its wane, the trouble will vanish out of
your heart as the disk of the moon decreases!” And saying this she drew
out of her pocket a little leather purse, opened it and took out a
piece of folded paper. “In this is a bit of the wood out of which our
Saviour’s cross was made. This will draw forth the sorrow from your
heart, and bear it, as it bore Him who took upon Himself the sorrow of
the whole world!” She kissed it with pious devotion, and then handed it
to Otto.
The whole became clear to him. He recollected how in his boyish
wantonness he had caused Heinrich’s tricks to miscarry, which occasioned
much pleasure to the spectators, but in Heinrich displeasure: they soon
again became friends, and Otto recognized in him the merry weaver of the
manufactory, as he called his former abode. They were alone, Otto asked
whether he did not remember his name: Heinrich shook his head. Then Otto
uncovered his shoulder, bade him read the branded letters, and heard the
unhappy interpretation which gave the death-blow to his gayety. Heinrich
must have seen what an impression his words made upon the boy: he gained
through them an opportunity of avenging himself, and at the same time
of bringing himself again into repute: as a sorcerer. He had tamed him,
whispered he to the old woman,--he had tamed the boy with a single word.
At any future wantonness of Otto’s, gravity and terror would immediately
return should any one ask him, What word did the German Heinrich whisper
into thy ear? “Only ask him,” had Heinrich said.
In a perfectly natural manner there lay, truly, enchantment in
Heinrich’s words, even although it were not that enchantment which the
superstition of the old woman would have signified. A revelation of
the connection of affairs would have removed her doubts, but here an
explanation was impossible to Otto. He pressed her hand, besought her to
be calm; no sorrow lay heavy on his heart, except the loss of his dear
grandfather.
“Every evening have I named your name it my prayers,” said the old
grandmother. “Each time when the harbingers of bad weather showed
themselves, and my sons were on the sea, so that we hung out flags or
lighted beacons as signals, did I think of the words which had escaped
my lips, and which the wicked Heinrich had caught up; I feared lest our
Lord might cause my children to suffer for my injustice.”
“Be calm, my dear old woman!” said Otto. “Keep for yourself the holy
cross, on the virtue of which you rely; may it remove each sorrow from
your own heart!”
“No, I am guilty of my own sorrow! yours has a stranger laid upon your
heart! Only the sorrow of the guiltless will the cross bear.”
The beautiful sentiment which, unconsciously to her, lay in these words,
affected Otto. He accepted the present, preserved it, sought to calm
the old woman, and once more at parting glanced toward the splendid sea
expanse which formed its own boundary.
It was almost evening before he reached the house where Rosalie awaited
him. His last scene with the blind fisher-woman had again thrown him
into his gloomy mood. “After all, she really knows nothing!” said he to
himself. “This Heinrich is my evil angel! might he only die soon!” It
was in Otto’s soul as if he could shoot a ball through Heinrich’s heart.
“Did he only lie buried under the heather, and with him my secret! I
will have blood! yes, there is something devilish in man! Were Heinrich
only dead! But others live who know my birth,--my sister! my poor,
neglected sister, she who had the same right to intellectual development
as myself! How I fear this meeting! it will be bitter! I must away. I
will hence--here will my life-germ be stifled! I have indeed fortune--I
will travel! This animated France will drive away these whims, and--I
am away, far removed from my home. In the coming spring I shall be
a stranger among strangers!” And his thoughts melted into a quiet
melancholy. In this manner he reached the hall.