know why myself. But whenever I see him something comes over me,
something that is like the memory of an evil dream. And yet it is
so vague and so faint, that I could not say whether I had really
ever seen the man in my dreams or not. It may be a sort of
presentiment of evil; who knows?
He was here again and offered me a pair of horses--beautiful
animals--at a ridiculously low price. It looked queer to me. I
know that he paid seventy thalers for them, and he wanted to let me
have them for the same price. They are at the least worth one
hundred thalers, if not more. Was it intended for a bribe? He may
have another lawsuit pending. I do not want his horses.
I paid a visit to the Rector of Veilbye to-day. He is a fine, God-
fearing man, but somewhat quick-tempered and dictatorial. And he
is close with his money, too, as I could see. Just as I arrived a
peasant was with him trying to be let off the payment of part of
his tithe. The man is surely a rogue, for the sum is not large.
But the rector talked to him as I wouldn't have talked to a dog,
and the more, he talked the more violent he became.
Well, we all have our faults. The rector meant well in spite of
his violence, for later on he told his daughter to give the man a
sandwich and a good glass of beer. She is certainly a charming and
sensible girl. She greeted me in a modest and friendly manner, and
my heart beat so that I could scarcely say a word in reply. My
head farm hand served in the rectory three years. I will question
him,--one often hears a straight and true statement from servants.
A surprise! My farm hand Rasmus tells me that Morten Bruus came a-
wooing to the rectory at Veilbye some years back, but was sent away
with a refusal. The rector seemed to be pleased with him, for the
man is rich. But his daughter would not hear to it at all. Pastor
Soren may have tried hard to persuade her to consent at first. But
when he saw how much she disliked the man he let her do as she
would. It was not pride on her part, Rasmus said, for she is as
simple and modest as she is good and beautiful. And she knows that
her own father is peasant-born as well as Bruus.
Now I know what the Ingvorstrup horses were intended for. They
were to blind the judge and to lead him aside from the narrow path
of righteousness. The rich Morten Bruns covets poor Ole Anderson's
peat moor and pasture land. It would have been a good bargain for
Morten even at seventy thalers. But no indeed, my good fellow, you
don't know Erik Sorensen!
Rector Soren Quist of Veilbye came to see me this morning. He has
a new coachman, Niels Bruus, brother to the owner of Ingvorstrup.
Neils is lazy and impertinent. The rector wanted him arrested, but
he had no witnesses to back up his complaint. I advised him to get
rid of the man somehow, or else to get along with him the best he
could until the latter's time was up. The rector was somewhat
hasty at first, but later on he listened calmly and thanked me for
my good advice. He is inclined to be violent at times, but can
always be brought to listen to reason. We parted good friends.
I spent a charming day in Veilbye yesterday. The rector was not at
home, but Mistress Mette received me with great friendliness. She
sat by the door spinning when I arrived, and it seemed to me that
she blushed. It was hardly polite for me to wait so long before
speaking. When I sit in judgment I never lack for words, but in
the presence of this innocent maiden I am as stupid as the veriest
simpleton of a chicken thief. But I finally found my voice and the
time passed quickly until the rector's return. Then Mistress Mette
left us and did not return until she brought in our supper.
Just as she stepped through the doorway the rector was saying to
me, "Isn't it about time that you should think of entering into the
holy estate of matrimony?" (We had just been speaking of a recent
very fine wedding in the neighborhood.) Mistress Mette heard the
words and flushed a deep red. Her father laughed and said to her,
"I can see, my dear daughter, that you have been standing before
the fire."
I shall take the good man's advice and will very soon try my fate
with her. For I think I may take the rector's words to be a secret
hint that he would not object to me as a son-in-law. And the
daughter? Was her blush a favorable sign?
Poor Ole Anderson keeps his peat moor and his pasture land, but
rich Morten Bruus is angry at me because of it. When he heard the
decision he closed his eyes and set his lips tight, and his face
was as pale as a whitewashed wall. But he controlled himself and
as he went out he called back to his adversary, "Wish you joy of
the bargain, Ole Anderson. The peat bog won't beggar me, and the
cattle at Ingvorstrup have all the hay they can eat." I could hear
his loud laughter outside and the cracking of his whip. It is not
easy to have to sit in judgment. Every decision makes but one
enemy the more.
Yesterday was the happiest day of my life. We celebrated our
betrothal in the Rectory of Veilbye. My future father-in-law spoke
to the text, "I gave my handmaid into thy bosom" (Genesis xvi, 5).
His words touched my heart. I had not believed that this serious
and sometimes brusque man could talk so sweetly. When the
solemnity was over, I received the first kiss from my sweet
betrothed, and the assurance of her great love for me.
At supper and later on we were very merry. Many of the dead
mother's kin were present. The rector's family were too far away.
After supper we danced until daybreak and there was no expense
spared in the food and wine. My future father-in-law was the
strongest man present, and could easily drink all the others under
the table. The wedding is to take place in six weeks. God grant
us rich blessings.
It is not good that my future father-in-law should have this Niels
Bruus in his service. He is a defiant fellow, a worthy brother of
him of Ingvorstrup. If it were I, he should have his wages and be
turned off, the sooner the better. But the good rector is stubborn
and insists that Niels shall serve out his time. The other day he
gave the fellow a box on the ear, at which Niels cried out that he
would make him pay for it. The rector told me of this himself, for
no one else had been present. I talked to Niels, but he would
scarcely answer me. I fear he has a stubborn and evil nature. My
sweet betrothed also en-treats her father to send the fellow away,
but the rector will not listen to reason. I do not know what the
old man will do when his daughter leaves his home for mine. She
saves him much worry and knows how to make all things smooth and
easy. She will be a sweet wife for me.
As I thought, it turned out badly. But there is one good thing
about it, Niels has now run off of himself. The rector is greatly
angered, but I rejoice in secret that he is rid of that dangerous
man. Bruus will probably seek retaliation, but we have law and
justice in the land to order such matters.
This was the way of it: The rector had ordered Niels to dig up a
bit of soil in the garden. After a time when he went out himself
to look at the work, he found Niels leaning on his spade eating
nuts. He had not even begun to dig. The rector scolded him, but
the fellow answered that he had not taken service as a gardener.
He received a good box on the ear for that. At this he threw away
his spade and swore valiantly at his master. The old rector lost
his temper entirely, seized the spade and struck at the man several
times. He should not have done this, for a spade is a dangerous
weapon, especially in the hands of a man as strong as is the pastor
in spite of his years. Niels fell to the ground as if dead. But
when the pastor bent over him in alarm, he sprang up suddenly,
jumped the hedge and ran away to the woods.
This is the story of the unfortunate affair as my father-in-law
tells it to me. My beloved Mette is much worried about it. She
fears the man may do harm to the cattle, or set fire to the house,
or in some such way take his revenge. But I tell her there is
little fear of that.
Three weeks more and my beloved leaves her father's house for mine.
She has been here and has gone over the house and the farm. She is
much pleased with everything and praises our orderliness. She is
an angel, and all who know her say that I am indeed a fortunate
man. To God be the praise!
Strange, where that fellow Niels went to! Could he have left the
country altogether? It is an unpleasant affair in any case, and
there are murmurings and secret gossip among the peasants. The
talk has doubtless started in Ingvorstrup. It would not be well to
have the rector hear it. He had better have taken my advice, but
it is not my province to school a servant of God, and a man so much
older than I. The idle gossip may blow over ere long. I will go
to Veilbye to-morrow and find out if he has heard anything.
The bracelet the goldsmith has made for me is very beautiful. I am
sure it will please my sweet Mette.
My honored father-in-law is much distressed and downhearted.
Malicious tongues have repeated to him the stupid gossip that is
going about in the district. Morten Bruus is reported to have said
that "he would force the rector to bring back his brother, if he
had to dig him out of the earth." The fellow may be in hiding
somewhere, possibly at Ingvorstrup. He has certainly disappeared
completely, and no one seems to know where he is. My poor
betrothed is much grieved and worried. She is alarmed by bad
dreams and by presentiments of evil to come.
God have mercy on us all! I am so overcome by shock and horror
that I can scarcely hold the pen. It has all come in one terrible
moment, like a clap of thunder. I take no account of time, night
and morning are the same to me and the day is but a sudden flash of
lightning destroying the proud castle of my hopes and desires. A
venerable man of God--the father of my betrothed--is in prison!
And as a suspected murderer! There is still hope that he may be
innocent. But this hope is but as a straw to a drowning man. A
terrible suspicion rests upon him--And I, unhappy man that I am,
must be his judge. And his daughter is my betrothed bride! May
the Saviour have pity on us!
It was yesterday that this horrible thing came. About half an hour
before sunrise Morten Bruus came to my house and had with him the
cotter Jens Larsen of Veilbye, and the widow and daughter of the
shepherd of that parish. Morten Bruus said to me that he had the
Rector of Veilbye under suspicion of having killed his brother
Niels. I answered that I had heard some such talk but had regarded
it as idle and malicious gossip, for the rector himself had assured
me that the fellow had run away. "If that was so," said Morten,
"if Niels had really intended to run away, he would surely at first
come to me to tell me of it. But it is not so, as these good
people can prove to you, and I demand that you shall hear them as
an officer of the law."
"Think well of what you are doing," I said. "Think it over well,
Morten Bruus, and you, my good people. You are bringing a terrible
accusation against a respected and unspotted priest and man of God.
If you can prove nothing, as I strongly suspect, your accusations
may cost you dear."
"Priest or no priest," cried Bruus, "it is written, 'thou shalt not
kill!' And also is it written, that the authorities bear the sword
of justice for all men. We have law and order in the land, and the
murderer shall not escape his punishment, even if he have the
district judge for a son-in-law."
I pretended not to notice his thrust and began, "It shall be as you
say. Kirsten Mads' daughter, what is it that you know of this
matter in which Morten Bruus accuses your rector? Tell the truth,
and the truth only, as you would tell it before the judgment seat
of the Almighty. The law will demand from you that you shall later
repeat your testimony under oath."
The woman told the following story: The day on which Niels Bruus
was said to have run away from the rectory, she and her daughter
were passing along the road near the rectory garden a little after
the noon hour. She heard some one calling and saw that it was
Niels Bruus looking out through the garden hedge. He asked the
daughter if she did not want some nuts and told the women that the
rector had ordered him to dig in the garden, but that he did not
take the command very seriously and would much rather eat nuts. At
that moment they heard a door open in the house and Niels said,
"Now I'm in for a scolding." He dropped back behind the hedge and
the women heard a quarrel in the garden. They could hear the words
distinctly but they could see nothing, as the hedge was too high.
They heard the rector cry, "I'll punish you, you dog. I'll strike
you dead at my feet!" Then they heard several sounding slaps, and
they heard Niels curse back at the rector and call him evil names.
The rector did not answer this, but the women heard two dull blows
and saw the head of a spade and part of the handle rise and fall
twice over the hedge. Then it was very quiet in the garden, and
the widow and her daughter were frightened and hurried on to their
cattle in the field. The daughter gave the same testimony, word
for word. I asked them if they had not seen Niels Bruus coming out
of the garden. But they said they had not, although they had
turned back several times to look.
This accorded perfectly with what the rector had told me. It was
not strange that the women had not seen the man run out of the
garden, for he had gone toward the wood which is on the opposite
side of the garden from the highroad. I told Marten Bruus that
this testimony was no proof of the supposed murder, especially as
the rector himself had narrated the entire occurrence to me exactly
as the women had described it. But he smiled bitterly and asked me
to examine the third witness, which I proceeded to do.
Jens Larsen testified that he was returning late one evening from
Tolstrup (as he remembered, it was not the evening of Niels Bruus's
disappearance, but the evening of the following day), and was
passing the rectory garden on the easterly side by the usual
footpath. From the garden he heard a noise as of some one digging
in the earth. He was frightened at first for it was very late, but
the moon shone brightly and he thought he would see who it was that
was at work in the garden at that hour. He put off his wooden
shoes and pushed aside the twigs of the hedge until he had made a
peep hole. In the garden he saw the rector in his usual house
coat, a white woolen nightcap on his head. He was busily smoothing
down the earth with the flat of his spade. There was nothing else
to be seen. Just then the rector had started and partly turned
toward the hedge, and the witness, fearing he might be discovered,
slipped down and ran home hastily.
Although I was rather surprised that the rector should be working
in his garden at so late an hour, I still saw nothing in this
statement that could arouse suspicion of murder. I gave the
complainant a solemn warning and advised him not only to let fall
his accusation, but to put an end to the talk in the parish. He
replied, "Not until I see what it is that the rector buried in his
garden."
"That will be too late," I said. "You are playing a dangerous
game. Dangerous to your own honor and welfare."
"I owe it to my brother," he replied, "and I demand that the
authorities shall not refuse me assistance."
My office compelled me to accede to his demands. Accompanied by
the accuser and his witnesses I took my way to Veilbye. My heart
was very heavy, not so much because of any fear that we might find
the missing man buried in the garden, but because of the surprise
and distress I must cause the rector and my beloved. As we went on
our way I thought over how severely the law would allow me to
punish the calumniators. But alas, Merciful Heavens! What a
terrible discovery was in store for me!
I had wished to have a moment alone with the rector to prepare him
for what was coming. But as I drove through the gate Morten Bruus
spurred his horse past me and galloped up to the very door of the
house just as the rector opened it. Bruus cried out in his very
face, "People say that you have killed my brother and buried him in
your garden. I am come with the district judge to seek for him."
The poor rector was so shocked and astounded that he could not find
a word to answer. I sprang from my wagon and addressed him: "You
have now heard the accusation. I am forced by my office to fulfill
this man's demands. But your own honor demands that the truth
shall be known and the mouth of slander silenced."
"It is hard enough," began the rector finally, "for a man in my
position to have to clear himself from such a suspicion. But come
with me. My garden and my entire house are open to you."
We went through the house to the garden. On the way we met my
betrothed, who was startled at seeing Bruus. I managed to whisper
hastily to her, "Do not be alarmed, dear heart. Your enemies are
going to their own destruction." Marten Bruus led the way to the
eastern side of the garden near the hedge. We others followed with
the rector's farm hands, whom he himself had ordered to join us
with spades.
The accuser stood and looked about him until we approached. Then
he pointed to one spot. "This looks as if the earth had been
disturbed lately. Let us begin here."
"Go to work at once," commanded the rector angrily.
The men set to work, but they were not eager enough to suit Bruus,
who seized a spade himself to fire them on. A few strokes only
sufficed to show that the firm earth of this particular spot had
not been touched for many years. We all rejoiced--except Bruus--
and the rector was very happy. He triumphed openly over his
accuser, and laughed at him, "Can't you find anything, you
libeler?"
Bruus did not answer. He pondered for a few moments, then called
out, "Jens Larsen, where was it you saw the rector digging?"
Jens Larsen had been standing to one side with his hands folded,
watching the work. At Bruus's words he aroused himself as if from
a dream, looked about him and pointed to a corner of the garden
several yards from where we stood. "I think it was over there."
"What's that, Jens!" cried the rector angrily. "When did I dig
here?"
Paying no heed to this, Morten Bruus called the men to the corner
in question. The earth here was covered by some withered cabbage
stalks, broken twigs, and other brush which he pushed aside
hurriedly. The work began anew.
I stood by the rector talking calmly with him about the punishment
we could mete out to the dastardly accuser, when one of the men
suddenly cried out with an oath. We looked toward them; there lay
a hat half buried in the loose earth. "We have found him," cried
Bruus. "That is Niels's hat; I would know it anywhere."
My blood seemed turned to ice. All my hopes dashed to the ground.
"Dig! Dig!" cried the bloodthirsty accuser, working himself with
all his might. I looked at the rector. He was ghastly pale,
staring with wide-open eyes at the horrible spot.
Another shout! A hand was stretched up through the earth as if to
greet the workers. "See there!" screamed Bruus. "He is holding
out his hand to me. Wait a little, Brother Niels! You will soon
be avenged!"
The entire corpse was soon uncovered. It was the missing man. His
face was not recognizable, as decomposition had begun, and the nose
was broken and laid flat by a blow. But all the garments, even to
the shirt with his name woven into it, were known to those who
stood there. In one ear was a leaden ring, which, as we all knew,
Niels Bruus had worn for many years.
"Now, priest," cried Marten Bruus, "come and lay your hand on this
dead man if you dare to!"
"Almighty God!" sighed the rector, looking up to heaven, "Thou art
my witness that I am innocent. I struck him, that I confess, and I
am bitterly sorry for it. But he ran away. God Almighty alone
knows who buried him here."
"Jens Larsen knows also," cried Bruus, "and I may find more
witnesses. Judge! You will come with me to examine his servants.
But first of all I demand that you shall arrest this wolf in
sheep's clothing."
Merciful God, how could I doubt any longer? The truth was clear to
all of us. But I was ready to sink into the earth in my shock and
horror. I was about to say to the rector that he must prepare to
follow me, when he himself spoke to me, pale and trembling like an
aspen leaf. "Appearances are against me," he said, but this is the
work of the devil and his angels. There is One above who will
bring my innocence to light. Come, judge, I will await my fate in
fetters. Comfort my daughter. Remember that she is your betrothed
bride."
He had scarcely uttered the words when I heard a scream and a fall
behind us. It was my beloved who lay unconscious on the ground. I
thought at first that she was dead, and God knows I wished that I
could lie there dead beside her. I raised her in my arms, but her
father took her from me and carried her into the house. I was
called to examine the wound on the dead man's head. The cut was
not deep, but it had evidently fractured the skull, and had plainly
been made by a blow from a spade or some similar blunt instrument.
Then we all entered the house. My beloved had revived again. She
fell on my neck and implored me, in the name of God, to help her
father in his terrible need. She begged me by the memory of our
mutual love to let her follow him to prison, to which I consented.
I myself accompanied him to Grenaa, but with a mournful heart.
None of us spoke a word on the sad journey. I parted from them in
deep distress. The corpse was laid in a coffin and will be buried
decently to-morrow in Veilbye churchyard.
To-morrow I must give a formal hearing to the witnesses. God be
merciful to me, unfortunate man!
Would that I had never obtained this position for which I--fool
that I am--strove so hard.
As the venerable man of God was brought before me, fettered hand
and foot, I felt as Pilate must have felt as they brought Christ
before him. It was to me as if my beloved--God grant her comfort,
she lies ill in Grenaa--had whispered to me, "Do nothing against
that good man!"
Oh, if he only were innocent, but I see no hope!
The three first witnesses repeated their testimony under oath, word
for word. Then came statements by the rector's two farm hands and
the dairy maid. The men had been in the kitchen on the fatal day,
and as the windows were open they had heard the quarrel between the
rector and Niels. As the widow had stated, these men had also
heard the rector say, "I will strike you dead at my feet!" They
further testified that the rector was very quick-tempered, and that
when angered he did not hesitate to strike out with whatever came
into his hand. He had struck a former hand once with a heavy maul.
The girl testified that on the night Jens Larsen claimed to have
seen the rector in the garden, she had lain awake and heard the
creaking of the garden door. When she looked out of the window she
had seen the rector in his dressing gown and nightcap go into the
garden. She could not see what he was doing there. But she heard
the door creak again about an hour later.
When the witnesses had been heard, I asked the unfortunate man
whether he would make a confession, or else, if he had anything to
say in his own defense. He crossed his hands over his breast and
said, "So help me God, I will tell the truth. I have nothing more
to say than what I have said already. I struck the dead man with
my spade. He fell down, but jumped up in a moment and ran away
from the garden out into the woods. What may have happened to him
there, or how he came to be buried in my garden, this I do not
know. When Jens Larsen and my servant testify that they saw me at
night in the garden, either they are lying, or Satan has blinded
them. I can see this--unhappy man that I am--that I have no one to
turn to for help here on earth. Will He who is in heaven be silent
also, then must I bow to His inscrutable will." He bowed his head
with a deep sigh.