A DRIVE INTO THE INTERIOR--EXTENSIVE AND SUBLIME
PROSPECT--NORWEGIAN POST-HOUSES--REPAIR OF THE
ROADS--PREPARATIONS FOR DEPARTURE.
On Sunday morning, we went to Krokleven, a spot about twenty miles from
Christiania, and celebrated for its scenery. The journey thither was
unpleasant enough, for the day was hot, and the roads were dry; and,
when the Norwegian started off at the usual speed of his countrymen, the
dust, disturbed by the horses' hooves and the carriage wheels, rose in
volumes, which overtook and palpably descended upon us, when the driver
suddenly halted the career of his steeds at the base of a hill.
The road to Krokleven was as tantalizing as it was perfect in sublimity
of scenery; for, from several elevated places, we could observe our path
creeping along over the mountains, and down the valleys, to the very
cottage where we intended to stop.
But the same solitude prevailed as on the Fiord; and the silence is the
more extreme when not even the warbling of a single bird is heard to
test a particle of animal existence; and nothing meets the sight but the
blue sky, the bald heads of the mountains, and the yellow-tinted foliage
of the fir and pine. As the traveller rises from one side of a mountain
to a corner of the road, where it hurries perpendicularly down the other
side, his eye may fathom a valley several thousand feet beneath, rich in
vegetation, and surrounded on all points by rugged mountains covered
with illimitable forests of fir, through the branches of which, here and
there, the grey rocks glare, like skulls scattered over a green field;
and the whole view which is thus taken at one glance may extend before,
and on either hand of the spectator, over a space of twenty miles.
The forests are so extensive, and the chance of being lost in them is so
probable, that on our arrival in the vicinity of Krokleven, we hired a
guide. Wandering along a pleasant by-way, shaded by the overhanging
boughs of the birch, the pine, and the fir, we scaled a mountain, and
gaining its highest elevation, saw, about two thousand feet below us, an
immense lake, chequered with islands, unequal in size, on which were
farms, and on the largest small villages. Dividing its waters into two
equal parts, the road to Bergen lay no broader than a pen-knife's blade,
and twisted, far away, like a white thread round the sides of the
mountains.
From the bosom of the lake along the easy slope of this mighty valley,
the ascent of an amphitheatre of mountains, skirting the horizon, takes
the eye up to heaven; and while the sun shone brightly, on these
mountains, hoary by lapse of centuries and contention with the storm,
they seemed, although the nearest was twenty or thirty miles from us, to
be tinged with a red colour, which, contrasted with the snow on their
summits and the deep azure sky above, against which their huge forms
appeared to lean, produced a scene as difficult to delineate as it was
sublime to see.
When we had partaken of some salmon and capercaillie, cooked after the
Norwegian process--where butter abounded, and had lighted our
meerschaums, we went at a gallop homewards. Built by the road-side, many
miles apart, the only symbols of mortality to travellers in Norway, are
post-houses, stages at which the horses are generally baited, and where
a book, under the protection of the Government, is kept to insert the
names, occupations, and destination of the persons who alight there, or
are travelling through the country. Its pages are divided into four
columns, and in the fourth column, the traveller may state any complaint
he has to make. At the end of every month, the appointed officers of the
State inspect this book, and rectify with severity any errors which may
have been brought to their notice.
The highways are kept in order by the gentry, farmers, or peasants; and,
along the road-side, a number of black posts are erected at certain
distances from one another, on which are painted in white characters the
names of the persons who are to repair the road, and the number of yards
or feet allotted to each of them; and the more extensive the landed
possession, or consequence of the man in the neighbourhood, so the
quantity of ground which comes under his care. It is obvious how soon
the person, neglecting the performance of the duty imposed upon him by
the Government, may be detected; and the imposition is effective in
keeping the roads in excellent order.
Though we returned at a late hour to Christiania, I walked to my old
spot on the mountain; and there, looking down towards the vessels that
were anchored in the harbour, like toys in a basin, the Norwegian girl,
whom I had seen yesterday, stood close to the black stone, her right
elbow resting on it, and her chin hid in the palm of her hand. She
seemed abashed that I had caught her in such thoughtful guise, and began
to move towards the path that led through the forest. I motioned to her,
as significantly as I could, not to allow me to disturb her.
"Nej, tak," she said, in a low, sweet tone; and, retiring a short space
from the stone, with all the delicacy of her tender youth and sex, and
a winning humility of manner, drew back behind me. Retiring, also, a few
paces till I was in a line with her, I allowed the huge piece of granite
to separate us; and dreading, that, by observing her too attentively,
she might go away, I took no apparent notice of her, and kept my eyes
fixed on the yacht, which had dwindled to a nutshell in size, with
needles for its mast and boom. I could, but indifferently, speak the
Norwegian language; and I knew not that she understood mine, though many
of the inhabitants of the principal towns of Norway generally possessed
a slight knowledge of English; and so, in silence, we stood.
The mournful sighing of the firs, as a current of air, escaping from the
Fiord, crept gently through them, and the quietude that reigned around,
inspired me with a feeling of melancholy; and after a while, "Do you
understand English?" I asked.
"My father was a sailor, sir," my alabaster, statue-like companion said,
sometimes speaking in her own language, and sometimes in mine, with a
pretty foreign accent, "and went to England often, and he taught me
English; but I do not know it well."
"You soon would speak it as well as I, if every day you tried," I
answered, with courage, pleased that I could make her understand me.
"But there is no one," she replied, I thought, in a sad voice, "to
speak to me; and I forget all that I have learned. My dear father used
to talk to me of England; and I remember still its tongue, because he
told me Englishmen were good and great."
She came nearer to the stone, and looking full in my face, smiled.
"Perhaps," I said, "some one of my countrymen had been kind to your
father, and he taught you a lesson too flattering not to disappoint you
when you meet an Englishman."
"No, sir, I hope not," she answered, raising her little head somewhat
proudly; "for an Englishman was kind and good to him: and my father
used, for his sake, to pray for England when he prayed for our country,
Norway; and he taught me, when a little girl, to do the same."
"And where is your father?" I asked.
"He is dead, sir," and the poor girl began to weep, but so quietly, that
I was not aware of her grief until the tremulous motion of her hand, in
which she had concealed her face, indicated her sorrow, and made me
regret that I had asked the question. Recovering her self-possession,
she went on to speak, although, without a sob, her tears still flowed
abundantly.
"This cross," she said, lifting it from her heaving bosom, "my poor
father gave, and bade me always wear; for baring his arm one day, he
showed a cross tattooed upon the skin, and told me if he died far from
his own home, all barbarous men, even Indians, when they saw that sign,
would not let his corpse be eaten by birds or beasts of prey; but bury
it."
Her delicate frame swelled with strong emotions, and she could scarce
contain her loud grief.
"He died, sir," she continued, "two years ago on the banks of a river
near Rio, in South America; and some Indian tribe, in adoration, as he
had surely said, to this symbol of our creed, buried him."
She had not yet made an end of speaking, when the sound of the church
clocks, ascending faintly, tolled eleven. It was broad daylight; for,
though the sun had set, his rays darted in orange-tinted pillars to the
centre of the sky, and sustained the glory of his presence. My young and
beautiful companion, starting at the sound, wiped away her tears, and
seemed to regret the lateness of the hour; and noting each vibration as
it fell on her ear, she commenced with her thumb, and then advancing to
the tip of each tapering finger, counted, with a whisper in her native
language,
"En, twa, tre, fyra, fem, sex, sju, atta, nie, tie,--elfva!"
Her exclamation of surprise and regret that she had remained so long
from home, made me strive to soothe her fears. When she was about to
hurry away, I begged her to tell me her name, that I might know what to
call her for the future.
"I am a poor peasant girl," she said, despondingly, "and you will never
desire to speak to me more."
"Are my thoughts to be known by yours?" I asked, with a slight smile;
"and do you think I cannot see God's bounty to the peasant girl, and
love virtue and innocence of heart clothed in any garb?"
"Yes, I think that," she answered, diffidently; "but I am not like those
you are wont to converse and dwell with; and when you talk to _me_, you
will learn my ignorance, and you will hate me then. I would have you
love me."
"And why," I said, "when you do not know my character, or temper, you
would have me love you?"
"That you may accept my love."
"And why _yours?_"
"Because it was my father's wish," she answered, with the gentleness of
the most engaging simplicity of manner, "that I should love all
Englishmen."
"I would not have that love," I replied.
She turned round quickly, and looked steadfastly at me; but soon as her
gaze met mine, her large, round, languishing blue eye fell, and drooped
to the ground.
"Will you not tell me your name?" I said, going nearer to her; "for we
shall meet again. Yonder lies the vessel that will bear me from your
country, and it is not prepared to move for many days."
She raised her eyes, and, with a smile, turned them towards the bay,
when observing that the sailors were painting the cutter's hull, and
scraping the spars, she appeared pleased with the sight; and dropping
her eyes towards the ground again, her tiny foot dallied with a blade of
grass, and, almost inaudibly,
"Call me Gunilda," she said.
A few minutes more separated us, and I wandered down the mountain. The
beauty of face and form,--the childish simplicity,--the virtue and
innocence of Gunilda's heart,--gave a nobler impulse to mine. I retired
to rest, but slept not; for when I dozed, the clouds would lower around
the yacht, and, the wind blowing with overwhelming force, every
successive wave threatened the little bark with instant destruction;
then, lo! the black vapours would rise from the surface of the sea, and
rolling away to the south, leave all the heaven clear and blue; and
there, shining in the west, the crescent moon, not three days old, would
slant quite close to Hesperus, twinkling by her nether edge, to help and
show the way across the ocean; and while the fair breeze filled the
sails, and all the sailors sang for joy, a linnet, blown from off the
land, would, shivering, perch upon the yard; and when the boatswain
strove to catch the bird, for fear it flew away and should be lost, the
foolish thing would stretch its wings and, fluttering, fall within the
vessel's course to sink beneath her bows; and when it rose again a long
way in her wake, I thought I heard Gunilda's screams for help, and I
would wake.
Then when I awoke, throughout the night, scaring the timid spirit of
sleep, a thousand dogs ashore howled and bayed the moon, as if all the
ghosts of the million souls that had perished since the far times when
Norway became the abode of men, had returned to earth, and were walking
through the streets of Christiania.
The dark grey mantle of morning had only enveloped the shades of night,
when I banished sleep, and the hour being yet too early to leave my bed,
I lay listening to the growls of Sailor, as he remonstrated with Jacko
for coming too close to him; while Jacko, in a low, murmuring twitter,
pointed out how scantily the straw was spread in the hutch, and how
chilly felt the Northern air to him, a little Indian born between the
Tropics.
"Well, D----," I said, about five hours afterwards, when I had gone on
deck, and saw the sailing-master sitting without his jacket, on the
taffrail, abaft the shrouds, smoking his morning pipe, "What do you
think of the day? Shall we move to-day?"
"Why, sir," replied D----, capping me, "what little wind there is, draws
up the Fiord, dead on end; but, as the day goes on, it's just as likely
to draw down. You see, sir," he said, directing my attention to some
fleecy clouds, not larger than my thumb-nail, and floating above the
mountains to the north-east, "those clouds seem coming this way."
"Yes, I see," I answered; "but I hope we shall not go away to-day."
"I don't think, sir," said D----, "we shall have any more air to-day,
than what there is now. The glass is high; and in these northern
latitudes, during the summer months, there is little change of weather."
"However, you can make some excuse," I observed, "if there be not
sufficient wind, for it is no good floating on the Fiord in a calm."
"Very good, sir," answered D----; "the wear and tear are certainly more
than the pleasure. But, I think, my Lord wants to reach Larvig as soon
as possible."
"I know that," I said; "but a day won't make any difference."
"As you please, sir," replied D----; and I went below to know if R----,
and P----, were getting up.
"Hollo! old fellow!" exclaimed R----, when he saw me, "what the devil
brought you out of bed so early?"
"Why, simply because I could not remain there later."
"I suppose so," replied R----; and then, whistling, singing, and
humming, he commenced his toilet.
"What sort of a day is it?" at length he asked. "The sun shines I see;
but how is the wind?"
"What little there is, is southerly," I replied.
"That's a bore, isn't it?" R---- observed.
"Why, that's as one may think," I said. "I am just as happy here as
anywhere else."
"What's the good of frousting here at Christiania;" asked R----,
disappointed at my difference of opinion.
"Why, look at the scenery. Nothing in the world is like it," I said
warmly.
"Pooh!" replied R----, disgustedly, "all my eye! I came to fish, not to
look at scenery. I suppose you want to go up to that confounded hill
again. But do as you like. I am for Larvig."
The sun mounted towards the zenith, and still his beams had no power
upon the sluggish atmosphere; and the quiet and warmth of the day were
unrelieved by a breath of air. R---- consulted D----, and found it
useless to get under weigh. As soon as I learned the decision that had
been come to, I jumped into a boat, and began to row myself towards the
mountain where I had met Gunilda.
"Mind you keep a sharp look out," shouted R----, to me, "for should the
wind get up, we'll be off."
I raised my hand in the air, in token of assent, and to intimate I heard
what he said.
"We'll fire a gun," he added in a louder voice. Again, I raised my hand
aloft; and then applying myself to the oars, soon reached the land. I
made the boat fast to a tree's stump, and commenced my ascent of the
mountain. No Gunilda, as yesterday, stood near the stone.
Musing, I sat, watching the crew on board the yacht making preparations
for our departure, should the wind shift fair. I saw them running, like
mice, up the shrouds, as they _boused_ up the mainsail, and heard them
chaunt a cheering chorus, as they heaved in the slack of the cable. It
was mid-day. I rose, and turning to the left hand, took my way through
the fir forest. I had proceeded about half a mile, when I discerned the
kneeling figure of a woman through the closely-planted trees. I
approached. It was Gunilda.
A little mound of earth, overgrown with flowers, denoted the humble
grave of some one dear to the recollection of the Norwegian girl. A
crucifix of black wood, round the top of which was wreathed a small
garland of wild flowers, was fixed at one end of the grave; and on the
cross the two Norwegian letters "G.H." signified the initials of the
dead one's name. By Gunilda's side lay a basket of fresh flowers,
culled while yet the morning's dew was sparkling on them.
"I did not think, sir, to see you again," said Gunilda, as soon as she
had perceived me; and ceasing in her dutiful care of removing the weeds
that had crept up since her last visit.
"Yes, I am here once more; but I shall not disturb you again after
to-day; though I regret my departure from Christiania, now that I have
known you."
"You regard me well," she replied sadly; "and, perhaps, it is, sir,
because you have seen me thus dutifully employed; but I do no more than
she would have done for me, had I been the first to die. This, sir, is
my mother's grave."
The girl turned away her face, and busied herself with the renewal of
her task, and plucked the weeds, one by one, from the grave. How great
was the contrast with my own country, England, where the moss and long
grass soon conceal the tomb of relative and friend, and living footstep
comes no more near the spot where the dead lie; but here, in simple
Norway, the ties between those who breathe, and those who are gone, are
still existent; nor does "death bring oblivion to the living as well as
to the dead." Strewn with the flowers of yesterday, the grave gives no
evidence that death has broken the strong links of affection; and while
I gazed and marked this young girl's sweet solicitude, a melancholy
feeling, even in the soul's desolation, came with a hope, that I too may
not rest altogether unremembered.
"How can I fail," I replied, "to love one who has not only affectionate
tenderness of heart, but surpassing beauty of form? God has denied you
nothing."
"Oh! sir, do not say so," she exclaimed. "Heaven has been good to me;
but I am also afflicted. My father sleeps in a distant land, and my poor
mother here; and, look, how young I am to be alone."
The tears followed each other down her face, and the intensity of her
grief was too great to allow Gunilda, for some moments, to speak.
Looking up into my face, her eyes still filled with tears, she said,
"My condition is one of extreme sorrow and loneliness; and if you could
hear it all, you would confess that I have cause to weep as well as
others. But think me not ungrateful."
"One whose heart is so guileless can never know ingratitude," I replied.
"But may I know your sorrows?"
"Would you like to hear them, sir?"
"I would."
"As I told you, then, sir," Gunilda said, rising from her kneeling
attitude, and sitting at my feet on the ground, "my father was a sailor.
His heart was as affectionate as his form was manly; and his was a
nature not long to roam the world without the sigh of sympathy. In the
summer of 1832, my father's vessel sailed from Christiania, bound to the
Black Sea; and he has often told me how dreary his fate felt, doomed, as
he was, to leave his country without one heart to think of him when
absent, or rejoice when he should return. After a prosperous voyage the
Mediterranean was reached, and the ship entered, with a fair wind, the
Straits of the Hellespont. On one side, sir, of the Hellespont, is a
small town called Sestos; it is a spot ignoble now, but was, once, one
of note. At Sestos a Turkish nobleman, removed by age from the cares of
State, had retired to pass in quietude the remainder of his life; and,
surrounded by his harem, desired no other felicity than the
companionship of his mistresses.
"The castle of this Turk lay by the Dardanelles, and from its windows
the clear blue waters might be seen.
"Beautiful, and having yet the innocence of youth, and brought from her
mountain home, near the Caucasus, to pant beneath the influence of a
warmer sun, a Circassian maiden pined. One day, oppressed by the heat,
the Circassian stole to a window overlooking the Straits, and strove to
catch the freshness of the wind that passed, cooled, from the surface of
the sea. While she stood there, the barque which bore my father sailed
in sight, and making her way with speed upon the water, soon drew, by
her gallant trim and flowing canvass, the attention of the girl; and
with swelling heart she sighed to see the vessel move towards that part
of earth from whence she came. That I may not weary you," Gunilda
continued, "my father's vessel arrived in safety at her destined port;
but, on her return homewards, a gale of wind arose, and the ship was
stranded under the walls of the castle where the Circassian dwelt. My
father and three other sailors were the only men saved from a crew of
twenty-five."
Gunilda stopped; and, turning towards me, said,
"Were you ever, sir, in Turkey?"
"No. Why do you ask?"
"Because, sir," she answered, "they say the Turkish people are not
compassionate; but I do not think that, for hear how kindly the Turkish
nobleman behaved to my poor father. When the tidings flew round the
country that a European vessel had been cast away, a multitude of people
hurried to the shore, some to see, and some to give aid; and among this
latter class, the good old Turk. My father, almost lifeless, by the
nobleman's command, was taken to the castle, and with kind attention,
was soon sensible of recovery. Though assiduity and tender care were
shown alike by all, my father selected from the group of maidens who
waited on him, a fair, slender girl, whose looks of sadness secured his
solicitude to learn the sorrow that oppressed her youthful heart. When
all were busy to restore my father's health and secure his comfort, this
young girl would sit apart, and, mutely, gaze for hours on him; but when
my father caught her glance, she would smile with sadness, and then look
another way.
"In our country, Norway, we are betrothed for many months before
marriage; and I suppose, sir, this custom is observed, that the
dispositions may assimilate; but, sir," observed Gunilda, retaining my
attention by her earnest countenance of inquiry, "do you not think that
two youthful creatures may love instinctively? Must the affections be
always fostered by the caution of time?"
"I think not," I replied, smiling to see her face beaming with anxiety
to learn my answer. "As the sun-flower turns to the sun, and the petals
of the rose open to the dew, so the human heart sighs for sympathy.
Nature is joined together by links identical to all; and the same law
that governs the sap, and external freshness of that little herb, rules
inexplicably our own affections, and visible demeanour. Do you
understand me?"
"Yes, I do," she answered; and clasped my hand with much delight.
"Indeed, Gunilda," I continued, "I believe in that heart's faith which,
in England, is called 'love at first sight.'"
"And so do I," she exclaimed, sidling closer to my feet, "and so did my
father. One day he took occasion, when all had retired, and left the
youthful Circassian watching by his couch alone, to tell her how he
loved her, and how devotedly he would watch over her happiness if she
would become his bride. The maiden wept, and told him, in return, how
reciprocal was her affection; but how insurmountable were the barriers
between their union, since she had been purchased as a slave, and
destined for the Turk's seraglio. Boldly defined as the forms of these
mountains are against the heavens, my father's noble character yielded
only to the sensitiveness of his heart; and when the Circassian made
known to him her destined abjection, he turned his face away and wept in
agony. Listen now to me, and hear the reason why I have been taught to
love your countrymen.
"Resident in Sestos, a young Englishman met, by accident, my father a
few days after his recovery, and seeing his dejected mien, entered into
conversation; and desired, finally, to know if he could aid him in his
return to Norway. My father told him he had no wish to see his native
land again, since he had seen at Sestos that which an unhappy destiny
had rendered dearer than the soil of his nativity.
"'No sorrow,' answered the young Englishman, 'is without alleviation.'
"'But this, sir,' my father said, 'is without remedy.'
"'If you desire money,' observed the Englishman, 'here is my purse; and
when I come, some day, to Christiania, you can then repay me.'
"'I desire not gold, sir,' and my father bowed his head in sorrow.
"'You are yet in the prime and vigour of youth,' the Englishman said;
'and, perhaps, you swerve under the infliction of a feeling to which I
have not been an entire stranger. You love.'
"My father replied not.
"'I have power in the presence of the Sultan,' replied the young
Englishman, 'and doubt not, if you will inform me of your grievances,
the sincerity of my desire to mitigate your grief.'
"My father looked up, and taking the Englishman's hand, thanked him, in
sentences broken by his sorrow, for his generous mediation. The tale was
soon told; and, when my father had recounted his fear, that a happy
result could never be brought to his affections, the Englishman bade him
not despair; and though the task was arduous, he still would strive to
master it. Two days afterwards the Englishman returned to my father, and
desired, that he would repair to Constantinople, and meet him there at a
certain church which the Englishman indicated by name. Faithful to his
promise, my father took leave of the Turkish nobleman who had been his
benefactor, and proceeded to Constantinople, where at the place and
hour appointed, he met the Englishman. Grasping my father heartily by
the hand, and telling him how impotent were the efforts of man to
contend with the decrees of Providence, the young Englishman begged that
he would follow him into the sacred edifice; and grieving no longer,
humiliate himself before his Maker, and thank Him, that his misfortunes
had been no greater. My father entered. Near an altar was a veiled
figure, and by its side a priest, clad in the snowy flowing robes of his
office, seemed busy with some holy ordinances; but when my father came
near, the Englishman raised suddenly the white veil, and allowing it to
fall on the marble floor, lo! with palpitating heart, before him stood
the Circassian slave. The Englishman had bought her for a large sum of
money from the Turk, and conveying her to Constantinople, gave her in
marriage to my father. My father's joy knew no bounds, and his gratitude
to the Englishman became a feeling as limitless in its ecstasy.
"'I desire no thanks,' the noble Englishman replied, 'for you would have
done the same for me had our positions been reversed; but I would always
be remembered by you both, and, that, I may not be forgotten, take this
ring, and wear it for my sake. When I was at Cairo, an Arab gave it me,
and bade, when I performed a deed that pleased me by its generosity, to
part with it in token of the heart's content.'
"See!" said Gunilda, holding up her hand, "this is the ring;" and she
kissed it. It was the same ring I had observed the first day I saw the
Norwegian girl; and it was a plain circlet of solid gold, surmounted by
a curiously-worked figure, having the beak and plumed wings of a bird,
and the body and tail of a lion.
"Since my mother's death I have worn it," said Gunilda sadly; and added,
with a faint smile, "but when I wed, my husband will make his claim, no
doubt."
Applying herself again to the cultivation of the flowers planted around
her mother's grave, the beautiful Norwegian informed me, while engaged
in her affectionate office, that, her mother survived the intelligence
of her husband's death but a short time; and on her death-bed, committed
Gunilda to the care of an old friend.
Mid-day came, and brought with it the sultriness and cheerful brightness
of a Norwegian summer's day. Through the fir-trees I could see the
waters of the Fiord sparkling, like liquid silver, in the glare of noon;
and far away, the clouds, like pieces of white wool, resting half-way up
the mountains. Gunilda, perceiving my pensive mood, observed,
"To-morrow, sir, at this hour, I shall not see you; and, I dare say, you
will almost have forgotten the Norwegian peasant girl."
"If there be any grief that pains me," I replied, "it is the one,
because it is fruitless, which reminds me how faithfully and long I
shall remember you and to-day."
"Take me with you to England," she exclaimed, "I will ever serve you
diligently, like a menial."
"To take you hence," I replied, "is only to lead you to destruction. A
flower so delicate in its texture, will not bear transplanting, or lack
of tenderness; and I would not see it droop and fade for all the
gratification I may derive from its presence and sweet perfume."
"What the heart desires, the body can endure," she answered in an
earnest tone. "My grief will be bitterer in your absence than all the
tortures which may attend me when I am near you. Let me go with you,"
and she seized my hand, and clung to it with affectionate tenacity.
"It is impossible," I answered. "In a short time after I am gone, you
will think of me no longer, and selecting from your countrymen one whose
feelings may sympathise with your own, you will pass your days in
happiness, and go to your grave in peace."
The young girl rose to her feet, for she had hitherto sat on the ground,
or retained a kneeling position; and taking the ring, I have casually
alluded to, from her finger, she said in her native tongue;
"The great and the humble, the rich and poor, feel alike, for God has
made no distinction between the peasant girl's deep affections and those
of a queen. My father's name and family will end with me, but let my
memory live with you."
She placed the ring upon my finger. She wept not, and not a sigh escaped
her; but her whole frame trembled with excess of feeling.
"You think," I exclaimed, "that I reverence not your love, and deem your
affectionate and noble heart worthy of my acceptance; but you know not
the false position in which I stand, or you would favour that apparent
apathy which wounds my soul. Had it been in my destiny, I could have
dwelt for ever among these mountains, with no other minister to my love
than your own self; but to take you hence to England, and refuse you the
cheerfulness and honourable endearments of wedlock, is to humiliate my
own conscience, and covet the curse of God in your hatred."
I had scarcely spoken, when a flash of light shot across the sky, and
before the girl had even ceased to start at the sight, the long, loud
roar of a gun succeeded. I understood the signal. The token of a
sincerely cherished, and steadfast friendship, I had worn, since I left
England, a valuable ring, and removing it from my finger, I took
Gunilda's hand and replaced her gift with mine. Gunilda held up her hand
before her for some minutes, without the utterance of a word, and gazed
on the brilliant jewel, then allowing her hand to fall by her side,
burst into a passionate flood of tears.
Again, a sudden gleam of light glanced through the forest, and, a moment
after, the booming of another gun rolled away down the valleys, and over
the rocks, with a faint, and then a loudly reviving echo.
"Good bye, Gunilda," I said. She spoke not, nor moved; but her shoulders
shook with a convulsive heaving.
"Will you not shake hands with me?" I asked, my voice almost indistinct
with emotion. Still, she spoke not. I kneeled down, for Gunilda had
reseated herself near her mother's grave, and raising her hand, I took
it in mine, and pressed it. I felt the pressure returned, and allowing
her small passive hand to fall gently again in her lap, I rose.
"God bless you!" I said.
She uttered a low, passionate cry, and then checking her anguish,
murmured faintly,
"Farvael!" and covering her face with her hands, fell, sobbing violently,
on her mother's grave.
I hurried from the spot; and hardly knew that I had left Gunilda, until
the boat ran against the cutter's bow, and roused me as from a dream.
When I got on board, I found that the wind was still too trivial to
allow us even to drift out of the harbour, and the cutter lay the whole
night immoveably on the water.