GRIEF.
Nearly two months had elapsed since those remarkable days on which Nanna
had received her first kiss, and Magde had heard from her husband by the
arrival of Jon Jonson's sloop.
Great had been her joy when Ragnar's gifts arrived in safety.--She then
thought that everything had come to a good conclusion. But greatly was
she deceived! There was a man to whom Magde had invariably conducted
herself with cool indifference, and who, after having been defeated by
her in the manner which we have before described bestowed upon her a
parting glance which had caused her to shudder as if she had trodden
upon a serpent. And he was indeed a serpent in human guise, for soon she
felt the delayed sting of the venomous reptile.
Until Ragnar had received his appointment as mate, old Mr. Lonner had
invariably purchased his supplies of the merchants at Goteborg; but as
Ragnar thought that foreign goods could be obtained much cheaper by
procuring them himself, and sending them home without paying the duty,
he soon persuaded the old man to adopt his opinion on the subject.
Until now no unpleasant consequence had resulted from Ragnar's
occasionally smuggling a few articles for the use of the family; but the
old adage says "a pitcher which goes oft to the fountain is soon
broken," and in Ragnar's case this proverb was verified.
Yet, for this accident, the custom house officers were not so much to
blame, for not one in that service would have thought for a moment of
searching the cottage in the valley, unless positive information was
received, nay more, unless that information was accompanied with threats
of exposure, for dereliction of duty. Unfortunately, the custom house
stamp was wanting upon the handkerchiefs, shawls, and other goods sent
by Ragnar, and the family not only were deprived of them, but were
menaced with fines and penalties, which to pay, was entirely out of
their power. To add to their misfortune their protector, Ragnar, who
would have soon put an end to their troubles, had started a few days
before the catastrophe, upon a voyage to Brazil.
Magde and Nanna wept only when they were alone, or at least when they
were with each other. They concealed their tears from the old man, his
life should not be further embittered; it was bitter enough already. The
little fortune on which they had hoped to subsist for many months was
entirely swept away. Old Mr. Lonner, however, observed the secret grief
of his daughters, and said to himself:
"Poor children, you do not know what is yet to come."
The smuggled goods were marked with old Mr. Lonner's name only, and he
well knew that a heavy penalty was yet to follow.
"We have enjoyed so much happiness, and peace, since Ragnar and Magde
were married," said he encouragingly to his daughter, "that we should
bravely endure a little misfortune. It is not allotted to man that he
should enjoy a constant season of prosperity."
But Nanna and Magde smiled sorrowfully as he thus spoke. The inmates of
the cottage now exerted themselves to the utmost to better their sad
condition. Our friend Carl exerted himself beyond all the others. He who
had neglected the affairs of his own relations for those of his
neighbors, now scarcely had leisure to step beyond the boundary line of
his father's estate. He was everything, and did everything so willingly
and skilfully, that it was not necessary for the family to hire any
servant to assist them as they had formerly done, and although latterly
he had been somewhat feeble in health, he cared not for himself, but
worked manfully in wet as well as dry weather. His troubles and toil
were all forgotten, when Magde would reward him for his efforts with a
friendly nod of her head.
And when she would say, "You will work yourself to death, my Carl," he
would laugh pleasantly, and immediately renew his efforts ten fold. He
now determined that after his duties at home were performed, to go among
the neighbors; not to be a nurse for their children, as before, but to
work for wages, and after this when he returned and placed the money on
Magde's weaving loom, a bright object might have been discovered
glistening upon the crumpled bank-note. It was a tear of joy which Carl
had shed.
Magde after the first occurrence of this incident, dared to praise Carl
no further. She already perceived the consequence of so doing, but after
the lilacs and lilies had faded, the tulips, roses and lavender bushes,
bloomed, and however weary Magde might find herself after a day of toil,
she would each evening place elegant boquets in Carl's flower vases.
At length, and too soon, the decision in regard to the smuggled goods
arrived, and as Mr. Lonner was unable to pay the penalty imposed upon
him, he was doomed to imprisonment. In this their day of trouble, Mr.
Lonner alone retained his courage.
He well knew in truth to whom they were indebted for their distress, but
he feared nothing. He trusted in the belief that Magde would do all that
was in her power to raise the sum of money necessary to pay the fine. It
was unfortunate, however, that Magde, without the old man's knowledge,
had expended their small stock of money to pay a few debts that they had
contracted the previous spring.
We will not attempt to depict the misery of the moment when old Mr.
Lonner stepped into the boat which was to conduct him to the prison at
Harad which was located on the opposite side of the lake, and where he
was to be confined for the time being. Both of his daughters wished to
accompany him to the opposite shore; but he forbade them so seriously
that they dared not press their desires further.
It was touching to observe these sorrow stricken females, amidst their
terror search high and low in the cottage for various articles of
comfort for their beloved father. At length, with a slight degree of
sorrowful impatience old Mr. Lonner ordered the boatmen to push off from
the shore, and then it was piteous in the extreme to behold both Magde
and Nanna, as they clung to the gunwale, to whisper their tearful
adieu's, and to promise that they would pay him a visit in his prison in
a few days.
Finally the bitter moment was over; the boat rapidly proceeded from the
land; but so long as they could discern the old man's white locks
fluttering in the breeze and even until the boat appeared a speck in the
distance, Nanna and Magde remained on the shore gazing out upon the
water.
In the meantime Carl without the knowledge of the family had proceeded
to the opposite shore of the lake, and when the boat which contained his
father touched the shore, Carl greeted him tenderly and presented him
with a ten dollar bank note. This was a treasure indeed, and Carl had
obtained it by selling the only article of value which he possessed. It
was a silver watch, which his mother had given him before she died.
On his return home that evening he remarked:--"Father need not fear. He
can live in his prison rolling in riches; a gentleman met him on the
other shore and loaned him ten dollars."
How Magde and Nanna blessed the kind hearted gentleman; but their joy
was but momentary. What should they do now? How should they provide for
themselves in this unexpected trouble. Their poor neighbors like
themselves, were moneyless, and their wealthy neighbors would
undoubtedly require some security before they would loan them money.
Nanna often looked towards the spot in the meadow, so full of pleasant
memories. If her kind friend would only return. He certainly, would be
able to advise them how to act in their present strait.
Three days elapsed after the old man's departure, and many were the
plans formed by Magde, but the only apparently feasible one, was that
which she would most unwillingly undertake to carry into effect. She was
perfectly convinced that the proprietor of Almvik would willingly assist
her; but he would do it _too_ willingly, for afterwards he would cause
her to feel that she was in his debt.
"But," thought she in a maze of doubt and fear, "what shall I do? Is it
better to remain as we are and allow the poor old man to languish in
prison, or to go to Almvik, and thus receive the only boon our father
wishes, liberty? But what would Ragnar advise me to do. He loves his
father as he does the apple of his eye; but his wife he loves as he does
his own heart--And then if he should imagine that Mr. Fabian H---- --Oh!
my God! what trouble would then arise!--but again I shall not be able to
assist the old man--no, no, that will not do, I can hold out no longer."
Magde had no person with whom to consult, for what advice could poor
Carl give? Nanna was a mere child, and Magde felt that she could not
consult her upon such an intricate question.
She had conversed with the parson concerning her trouble, yet although
he was not backward in giving her good advice, he nevertheless refused
to assist her with his purse, for he was as miserly as he was wealthy.
The time had now arrived when Magde could no longer postpone the
promised visit to her father, and all the members of the family wished
to go upon this little pilgrimage. Great were the preparations that were
made to supply themselves with a sufficient quantity of provisions which
they were to take to the old man. Magde baked pan-cakes, and Nanna made
pies, and if a smile did appear on Magde's lips it was when they spoke
of the pleasant surprise they were preparing for their father.
At length the moment for their departure arrived. Even little Christine
and the favorite dog Carlo, were to form a portion of the company, that
they might be able to see their old friend. The children leaped with
joy.
They thought only of the pleasant trip over the swelling billows of the
lake. Magde finished lading the skiff; but her heart was overflowing
with grief, for she had no glad tidings with which to gladden the heart
of the old man.
Nanna who during the busy activity of the morning had successfully
endeavored to suppress her sorrow, was so much overcome as she was about
stepping into the boat that she nearly fainted. She saw in her
imagination the pale and suffering countenance of her father; who was
however smiling patiently as he stood ready to greet his children, that
were to leave him again in his dreary and lonely prison.
The poor child in anticipation suffered all the pangs of a second
farewell with her imprisoned parent.
"It will not do for you to accompany us," said Magde in a firm and
motherly tone, "you are ill, and therefore had better return."
"I am afraid," replied Nanna trembling violently, "that I shall be
obliged to do so. Give my love to him, and tell him--" and now her long
suppressed tears burst forth in torrents--"tell him if I do not come, it
is not because I do not love him."
"Silence, silence my poor sister, I know myself what I have to say--Go
and may God be with you--here is the key--Lock the door--Carl take the
oars."