"Yes," said Karen; "but do not strike off my head, for then I could not
live to repent of my sin. Strike off my feet, that I may be rid of my
red shoes."
Then she confessed her sin, and the executioner struck off the red
shoes, which danced away over the fields and into the deep wood. To
Karen it seemed that the feet had gone with the shoes, for she had
almost lost the power of walking.
"Now I have suffered enough for the red shoes," she said; "I will go to
the church, that people may see me." But no sooner had she hobbled to
the church door than the shoes danced before her and frightened her
back.
All that week she endured the keenest sorrow and shed many bitter tears.
When Sunday came, she said: "I am sure I must have suffered and striven
enough by this time. I am quite as good, I dare say, as many who are
holding their heads high in the church." So she took courage and went
again. But before she reached the churchyard gate the red shoes were
dancing there, and she turned back again in terror, more deeply
sorrowful than ever for her sin.
She then went to the pastor's house and begged as a favor to be taken
into the family's service, promising to be diligent and faithful. She
did not want wages, she said, only a home with good people. The
clergyman's wife pitied her and granted her request, and she proved
industrious and very thoughtful.
Earnestly she listened when at evening the preacher read aloud the Holy
Scriptures. All the children came to love her, but when they spoke of
beauty and finery, she would shake her head and turn away.
On Sunday, when they all went to church, they asked her if she would not
go, too, but she looked sad and bade them go without her. Then she went
to her own little room, and as she sat with the psalm book in her hand,
reading its pages with a gentle, pious mind, the wind brought to her the
notes of the organ. She raised her tearful eyes and said, "O God, do
thou help me!"
Then the sun shone brightly, and before her stood the white angel that
she had seen at the church door. He no longer bore the glittering
sword, but in his hand was a beautiful branch of roses. He touched the
ceiling with it, and the ceiling rose, and at each place where the
branch touched it there shone a star. He touched the walls, and they
widened so that Karen could see the organ that was being played at the
church. She saw, too, the old pictures and statues on the walls, and the
congregation sitting in the seats and singing psalms, for the church
itself had come to the poor girl in her narrow room, or she in her
chamber had come to it. She sat in the seat with the rest of the
clergyman's household, and when the psalm was ended, they nodded and
said, "Thou didst well to come, Karen!"
"This is mercy," said she. "It is the grace of God."
The organ pealed, and the chorus of children's voices mingled sweetly
with it. The bright sunshine shed its warm light, through the windows,
over the pew in which Karen sat. Her heart was so filled with sunshine,
peace, and joy that it broke, and her soul was borne by a sunbeam up to
God, where there was nobody to ask about the red shoes.
[Illustration]