The two horsemen having reached Ansbjerg, entered the yard containing
the outhouses, turned--the keeper leading the way--towards the stable,
unsaddled their horses, and went thence through an alley of limes, which
led to the court of the mansion. This consisted of three parts. The
chief building on the left, two stories high, with a garret, gloried in
the name of "tower"--apparently because it seems that no true
manor-house ought to be without such an appurtenance, and people are,
as we all know, very often contented with a name. The central building,
which was tiled, and consisted only of one story, was appropriated to
the numerous domestics, from the steward down to the lowest stable-boy.
The right was the bailiff's dwelling. In a corner between the two stood
the wooden horse, in those days as indispensable in a manor-house as the
emblazoned shields over the principal entrance.
At the same instant that the gamekeeper opened the wicket leading into
the court-yard of the mansion, a window was opened in the lowest story
of the building occupied by the family, and a half-length figure
appeared to view, which I consider it my duty to describe. The noble
proprietor--for it was he whose portly person nearly filled the entire
width of the large window--was clad in a dark green velvet vest, with a
row of buttons reaching close up to the chin, large cuffs, and large
buttons on the pockets; a coal-black peruke, with a single curl quite
round it, completely concealed his hair. The portion of his dress that
was to be seen consisted, therefore, of two simple pieces, but as his
whole person will hereafter appear in sight, I will, to avoid
repetition, proceed at once to describe the remainder. On the top of the
peruke was a close-fitting green velvet cap with a deep projecting
shade, nearly resembling those black caps which have been worn by
priests even within the memory of man.[9] His lower man was protected by
a pair of long wide boots with spurs; and a pair of black unutterables,
of the kind still worn by a few old peasants, even in our own days,
completed the visible part of his attire.
"Niels keeper!" cried the master. The party thus addressed, having shown
his companion the door by which he was to enter, stepped, holding his
little gray three-cornered hat in his hand, under the window, where the
honourable and well-born proprietor gave audience to his domestics and
the peasants on the estate, both in wet and dry weather. The keeper on
these occasions had to conform to the same etiquette as all the others,
though a less formal intercourse took place between master and man at
the chase.
"Who was that?" began the former, giving a side-nod towards the corner
where the stranger had entered.
"The new writing-lad, gracious sir," was the answer.
"Is that all! I thought it had been somebody. What have you got there?"
This last inquiry was accompanied by a nod at the gamekeeper's pouch.
"An old cock and a pair of chickens, gracious sir!" (This "gracious
sir," we shall in future generally omit, begging the reader to suppose
it repeated at the end of every answer.)
"That's little for two days' hunting. Is there no deer to come?"
"Not this time," answered Niels sighing. "When poachers use deer to ride
on, not one strays our way."
This speech naturally called for an explanation; but as the reader is
already in possession of it, we will, while it is being given, turn our
attention to what was passing behind this gracious personage's broad
back.
Here stood, to wit, the young betrothed pair, Junker Kai and Froeken
Mette.[10] The first, a handsome young man of about twenty-five,
elegantly dressed and in the newest fashion of the time. To show with
what weapons ladies' hearts were in those days attacked and won, I must
attempt to impart some idea of his exterior, beginning with the feet,
that I may go on rising in my description: these, then, were protected
by very broad-toed short boots, the wide legs of which fell down in many
folds about his ankles; under these he wore white silk stockings, which
were drawn up about a hand's-breadth above the knees, and the tops of
which were garnished with a row of the finest lace; next came a pair of
tight black velvet breeches, a small part only of which appeared in
sight, the greater portion being concealed by the spacious flap of a
waistcoat also of black velvet. A crimson coat with a row of large
covered buttons, short sleeves, scarcely reaching to the wrists, but
with cuffs turned back to the elbows, and confined by a hook over the
breast, completed his outward decorations. His hair was combed back
perfectly smooth, and tied in a long stiff queue close up in his neck. I
should merit, and get but few thanks from my fair readers, if I did not
with the same accuracy describe the dress of the honourable young lady,
which may be considered under three principal divisions: firstly, the
sharp-pointed, high-heeled, silver-buckled shoes; secondly, the little
red, gold-laced cap, which came down with a sharp peak over the
forehead, and concealed all the turned up hair; and thirdly, the
long-waisted, sky-blue flowered damask gown, the wide sleeves of which,
hardly reaching to the elbows, left the shoulders and neck bare,
and--what may seem singular--was not laced; but Froeken Mette's face was
so strikingly beautiful, that, in looking at her, her dress might easily
be forgotten.
These two comely personages stood there, as we have said, behind the old
gentleman, hand in hand, and, as it seemed, engaged in a flirtation. The
Junker from time to time protruded his pointed lips as if for a kiss,
and the lady as often turned her face away, not exactly with
displeasure, but with a roguish smile. The most singular thing was, that
every time she bent her head aside, she peeped out into the court, where
at the moment nothing was to be seen (for the gamekeeper stood too close
under the window to be visible) but the wooden horse and the new
writing-lad, who, the instant he entered the office, had placed himself
at the open window. That this latter, notwithstanding the predicate
"writing-lad," was a remarkably handsome youth, it may seem strange to
say, for, in the first place, he had a large scar above his cheek, and,
in the second, he was clad wholly and solely as a writing-lad. It is
needless to stay my narrative in portraying the mother of Froeken Mette,
the good Fru[11] Kirsten, who was sitting in another window, and, with a
smile of satisfaction, observing the amorous play of the two young
people. The good old lady could with the greater reason rejoice at this
match, as, from the beginning, it was entirely her own work. She had, as
her gracious spouse in his hunting dialect jocosely expressed it, among
a whole herd of Junkers scented out the fattest, and stuck a ticket on
his foot. As the young gentleman was an only son, the heir to Palstrup,
as well as many other lordships, the match was soon settled between the
parents, and then announced to their children. The bridegroom, who was
just returned from Paris when Fru Kirsten, in her husband's phraseology,
took him by the horn, was perfectly well inclined to the match, for
which no thanks were due to him, as Froeken Mette was young, beautiful,
an only child, and heiress to Ansbjerg, the deer, wild-boars, and
pheasants of which were as good as those of Palstrup, while with respect
to heath-fowl and ducks it was vastly superior. As to the bride, she was
so completely under subjection to the will of her parents, that for the
present we may leave it doubtful how far her own inclination was
favourable to the Junker. We know, indeed, that the female heart usually
prefers choosing for itself, and often rejects a suitor for no other
reason than because he was chosen by the parents; though if Junker Kai
had been first in the field we should not have been under any
apprehension on his account.
When the keeper had recounted all his misfortunes, which he did not
venture to conceal, as both the writing-lad and his guide, and probably
also the deer-stealer himself, would have made it known, the harsh
master, whose anger often bordered on frenzy, broke forth into the most
hearty maledictions on the poacher, from which shower of unpropitious
wishes a few drops fell on poor Niels, who, out of fear of his master,
was obliged to swallow his own equally well-meant oaths. As soon as the
first fury of the storm had subsided and given place to common sense, a
plan was devised for immediate and ample vengeance; the daring culprit
should be seized, and, as he could now be easily convicted of
deer-stealing, should be transferred to the hands of justice, and
thence, after all due formalities, to Bremerholm. The difficulty was to
catch him, for if he got but the slightest hint of his danger, he would,
it was reasonable to imagine, instantly take to flight, and leave his
wife and children in the lurch. The lord of the manor, who had been
severely wounded in so tender a part, was for setting forth without a
moment's delay, as so much of the day was left, that before the
appearance of night they might reach the hut of Black Mads. But the
gracious lady, in whose revenge a surer plan and maturer consideration
were always manifest, represented to her impetuous mate, that the
darkness would also favour the culprit's flight; or, if this were
prevented, a desperate defence; it would therefore be better to march
out a little after midnight, so that the whole armed force might invest
and take the hut at break of day. This proposition was unanimously
approved, and the Junker was invited to share in the peril and glory of
the undertaking. The bailiff (who had just entered to announce the
arrival of the new writing-lad, and to show a letter of recommendation
brought by him from the bailiff at Vestervig) received orders to hold
himself in readiness, together with the gardener, the steward, and the
stable-boys, and also to order a peasant-cart to follow the march.