Strife and Peace
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Fredrika Bremer >> Strife and Peace
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Here they halted to take counsel. The Bjoeroeia was now so swollen, and
rushed along so violently, that they soon saw the pure impossibility of
passing it at this place. The old Halling-peasant advised them to make a
circuit to another place, where they might with safety cross the river;
this would take them near to the Storlie-Saeter, and near to the great
waterfall of the same name, the roar of which might be heard at three
miles' distance. It is true that they must make a circuit of some miles,
but what could they do? Great was the danger of pursuing the journey in
this storm, but greater yet to stand still in this desert, where the
snow frequently fell to the depth of many yards. The old Hallinger,
however, chose this last; for he found himself unable to sit on the
horse, and prayed to be left quiet in the hut, with provisions for a few
days, in which time he hoped that the snow would cease and begin to
thaw. He did not wish that his grandson should remain with him, but he
was resolute not to leave his old grandfather, and the rest considered
it alike proper and necessary; and the two, therefore, were hastily
supplied with whatever they might require in this winterly solitude.
Their horses were supplied with provender, and led likewise into the
hut.
Susanna bound up the old man's head with the carefulness of a daughter.
It was to her infinitely difficult to leave the old man behind them
there. "And if no thaw come?" said she; "if snow and winter still
continue, and thou art buried in here and frozen?"
"That has happened before now to many a better fellow than me," said the
old man calmly. "One cannot die more than once, and God is also at home
in the wilderness. And he who rightly can utter the Lord's Prayer need
not to fear the under-earth spirits. With me, an old man, it may go as
it will. My best time is, in any case, past; I am anxious only for the
youth. Think on him when thou comest to human beings."
Susanna was affected. She impressed a kiss upon the old man's forehead,
and a warm tear fell from her cheek upon his. The old man looked up to
her with a cordial, bright-beaming glance. "God's angel guide thee!"
cried he after her, as she left the hut to attend the rest.
Again was the little train in motion, and wandered over snow-fields,
naked rocks, and half-thawed morasses. The snow reached high up the legs
of the horses, and only slowly and almost reluctantly went they forward.
It grew darker and darker. No one spoke a word. Thus they went on for an
hour's space.
With great uneasiness had Susanna fancied for some time that she
observed Harald to reel in his saddle; but she endeavoured to persuade
herself that it might be only a delusion, which the unequal paces of the
horse occasioned, and by the thick snow-mist through which she saw him.
All around her had, in fact, a bewildering appearance, and seemed to her
waving and spectral. A dull cry from Mrs. Astrid broke the ghostly
silence--was this also a delusion? Harald's horse stood still, and was
without its rider. Of a truth, it was only too certain! Harald had,
seized by dizziness, fallen down beside his horse. He had borne for long
in silence the increasing pain in his shoulder and breast, and
endeavoured to conceal from himself, as well as from others, feelings of
feverish dizziness which seized his head. Even now, when it threatened
to overpower him, he would not allow it to be of any consequence. With
the help of the servant, he made several attempts to seat himself again
upon his horse, but in vain. He could no longer lift up his fevered
head. Lying upon the snow on his knees, and with silent misery, he
leaned his burning forehead against a piece of rock.
"Here, then, here shall we die!" said Mrs. Astrid, half aloud to
herself, in a gloomy voice; "and this young man must be sacrificed for
my sake. My fate is always the same!"
Then followed a moment of fearful silence. Men and animals stood
immoveable, and as if turned to stone, whilst the snow fell over them,
and seemed to threaten to bury them. But now a clear, cheerful voice
raised itself, and said--
"I see a flat rock yonder, which will shelter us from the snow. We must
carry him there!" And Susanna raised up Harald and seized his arm,
whilst the servant went before and made a path through the snow. About
forty paces from the place where they stood, a vaulted projecting rock
stretched forth, under which they could obtain shelter from the snow,
which reared itself in high walls around the open space.
"Support yourself on me; better--better! Fear not; I am strong!" said
Susanna, whilst she, with a soft but vigorous arm, embraced Harald. He
allowed himself to be led like a child: although he was not properly
conscious, still he felt a certain pleasure in submitting himself to the
young girl's guidance, who talked to him with such a mild and courageous
voice.
As commodiously as possible was Harald laid under the sheltering rock,
and Susanna took off her shawl, which she wore under her fur cloak, and
made of it a soft pillow for Harald. "Ah! that is good!" said he softly,
and pressed Susanna's hand, as he found himself relieved by this
position. Susanna returned now to her mistress.
"Susanna," said she, "I would also gladly get there. It seems safe
resting there; but I am so stiff that I can scarcely move myself."
Susanna helped her lady from her horse; and guided and supported by her,
Mrs. Astrid reached the sheltering vault. Here, in comparison with that
of the open plain, the air was almost of a mild temperature, for the
rock walls and the piled-up snow prevented the cold wind from entering.
Here Susanna placed softly her lady, who was almost stiffened with cold
and fatigue.
Susanna also was frozen and weary; but, oh, what a southern clime of
life and warmth cannot love and a strong will call forth in a human
being! It was these powers which now impelled the young girl's pulse,
and let the blood rush warm from the chambers of her heart to her very
finger ends. She rubbed the stiffened limbs of her mistress, she warmed
them with kisses and tears, she warmed her with her throbbing breast.
She prevailed upon her to drink from a bottle of wine, and prepared also
for Harald's parched and thirsty lips a refreshing draught of wine and
water. She moistened her handkerchief with snow, and laid it upon his
aching brow. Around them both she piled cloaks and articles of clothing,
so that both were protected from the cold. Then stood she for a moment
silent, with a keen and serious look. She was thinking on what was
further to be done to save these two.
Harald had raised himself on his sound arm, and looked silently down
with the pain which a manly nature experiences when it is compelled to
renounce one of its noblest impulses--sustaining and helping the weak
who are confided to their care. A tear--the first Susanna had ever seen
him shed, ran down his cheek.
Mrs. Astrid gazed with a mournful look up to the grave-like vault.
But Susanna's eyes beamed even brighter. "Hark, hark!" said she, and
listened.
Mrs. Astrid and Harald fixed upon her inquiring looks.
"I hear a noise," resumed Susanna, "a noise like that of a great
waterfall."
"It is the roar of the Storlie-force!" exclaimed Harald, for a moment
animated--"but what good of that?" continued he, and sunk down
disheartened, "we are three miles off--and cannot get there!"
"Yes, we can, we will," said Susanna, with firm resolution. "Courage,
courage, my dear lady! Be calm, Mr. Bergman! We will reach it, we will
be saved!"
"And how?" said Harald, "the servant is a stupid fellow, he never could
find his way."
"But I can find it, be sure of that," replied Susanna; "and come back
hither with people and help; tell me only the signs by which I may know
the right way. These and the roar of Storlie-force will guide me."
"It is in vain! You would perish, alone, and in the snow-*storm!"
"I shall not perish! I am strong! No one shall hinder me. And if you
will not tell me the way, I shall, nevertheless, find it out."
When Harald saw her so firmly resolved, and her cheerful and determined
tone had inspired him with some degree of confidence, he endeavoured to
point out to her the objects by which she must direct herself, and which
consisted of rock and crag, which, however, in the snowy night, she
probably could no longer distinguish.
With deep attention, Susanna listened, and then said cheerfully, "Now I
have it! I shall find the way! God preserve you! I shall soon be back
again with help!"
When she came out into the open air, she found the servant seeking his
comfort in the brandy-bottle, and the horses sunk in a spiritless
stupor. She admonished him to take care of these, and charged him
earnestly both with threats and promises of reward, to think about his
employers and watch over their safety. She herself gave to her horse
fodder and water, patting him the while, and speaking to him kind and
encouraging words. After that she mounted to commence her solitary,
dangerous journey. But it was only with great difficulty that she could
make the horse part from his companions, and when it had gone about
twenty paces forward, it stopped, and would return again to its company.
This manoeuvre it repeated several times, at length it would obey
neither blows nor encouragement. Susanna therefore dismounted and let
the horse go. A few tears filled her eyes as she saw him thus abandon
her, and beseechingly she lifted her hands to Him, who here alone saw
the solitary defenceless maiden.
After that she pursued her way on foot.
This indeed was not long, and the length of it was not the difficulty;
but he who had seen Susanna making her way through the deep snow, then
clambering up rocks, then wandering over morasses, where at every step
she feared to sink, would have been filled with amazement at her courage
and her strength. But "God's angel," whom the old man had prayed might
guide her, seemed to be with her on the way, for the fall of snow
ceased, and ever and anon shot a moonbeam forth, and showed her some of
the objects which Harald had described as landmarks. Besides, the din of
the Storlie-force grew ever louder and louder, like the trumpet of the
resurrection in her ears. A strong resolve to attempt the uttermost, a
secret joy in testifying her affection, even though it should be with
the sacrifice of her life, gave wings to her feet, and prevented her
courage falling for a single minute.
So passed two hours. Susanna now heard the water roaring beneath her
feet. She seemed to be on the point of plunging into an abyss; all
around was darkness and snow. She stood still. It was a moment of
terrible uncertainty. Then parted the clouds, and the half-moon in full
glory beamed forth, just as it was about to sink behind a rock. Susanna
now saw the abyss on whose brink she stood; she saw the Storlie-force
spread its white masses of water in the moonlight, saw the Saeter-huts
there below!...
Beneath the stone vault where Mrs. Astrid and Harald found themselves,
prevailed for some time after Susanna's departure, a deep and wild
silence. This was at length broken by Mrs. Astrid, who said in a solemn
tone--
"I have a request to make of you, Harald!"
"Command me," answered he. "Might I but be able to fulfil your wish!"
"We seem both," resumed Mrs. Astrid, "now to stand near the grave; but
you are stronger and younger than I, you I hope will be rescued. I must
confide to you an important commission, and I rely on the honour and the
soundness of heart which I have observed in you, that you will
conscientiously execute it, in case I myself am not in a condition to
do, and you as I trust, will outlive me!"
Mrs. Astrid had uttered this with a firm voice, but during the following
relation, she was frequently agitated by contending emotions. She spoke
rapidly, and in short, abrupt sentences, as thus--
"I had a sister. How I loved her I am not able to express. She was as
gay and gentle in her mood as I was serious. When I married, she
accompanied me to my house. But there was no good luck.--The fortune
which my sister possessed placed her in a condition to follow her own
heart's bias, and she gave her hand to a poor but amiable young man, a
Lieutenant Wolf, and lived with him some months of the highest earthly
felicity. But brief was the happiness to be. Wolf perished on a
sea-voyage, and his inconsolable wife sunk under her sorrow. She died
some hours after she had given birth to a son, and after she had laid
her tender babe in my arms, and prayed me to become its mother.
"And I became a mother to this child. An own son could not have possibly
been dearer to me. I was proud of the handsome lively child. I saw a
beautiful future for him. He should realise the ideal of my youth, he
should.... Oh! amid my own poor and desolate life I was yet rich in this
boy. But the man who had received my hand endured not that my heart
should belong to this child. He took a hatred to the poor boy, and my
life became more than ever bitter.--Once I was obliged to make a journey
to visit a sick relative. I wished to take the seven-year-old boy with
me, for he had never been separated from me. But my husband would retain
him with him, and assumed a tone of tenderness to persuade me. This I
could not resist; and spite of the boy's entreaties, and an anxiety
which seemed to me ominous--I left my poor child. I persuaded myself
that I was acting strongly, and I was really weak. I had promised the
child's mother to protect it--I knew that I left it in hard and hostile
hands, and yet!---- When after a week's absence I returned from my
journey, the boy--had vanished. He had gone out one day, it was said,
and never came back again. They had sought for him everywhere, and at
length had found his little hat upon a rock on the edge of the sea--it
was held for certain that he had fallen over it.--I found my husband
busy in taking possession of my sister's property, which in case of the
boy's death should, according to her will, fall to us. From this moment,
my soul was seized with the most horrible suspicions!... God be praised
that these were false! God forgive me that I ever entertained them!
"For twenty years have they gnawed at my heart; for twenty years have
they hung the weight of lead on the fulfilment of my duties. All my
researches were fruitless: no one could be suspected; no one seemed to
have acted herein, except a dreadful fate. This was all:--the boy had
had permission to go out and play, had left the house alone, and no one
had seen him afterwards.
"Twenty years--long, dark years--had passed since this period, and hope
had by degrees expired in my heart, the feeble hope, which sometimes
revived in it, that I should yet recover my beloved child. After having
been many years deprived of both bodily and mental vigour by his
paralysis, my husband died. I was free; but wherefore should I live!...
I had lost my faith in everything which makes life dear, and I stood
alone, on the verge of old age, surrounded by darkness and bitter
memories. Thus did I still feel but a few days ago, when I received a
writing from the present Commandant of K----. Within lay an unsealed
letter, which he said had been found in a drawer into which my husband
was wont to throw old letters and papers, of no worth or
importance.--And this letter ... Oh! how it would have changed my heart,
and my future! This letter was written by my husband, apparently
immediately after his severe paralytic stroke; but its words, in an
unsteady hand, said, that the lost child still lived, and directed me
for further explanation to a certain Sergeant Roenn, in Bergen. Here the
letter appeared to have been broken off by a sudden increase of his
attack. I was, as it chanced, absent from home on this day. When I
returned I found my husband speechless, and nearly lifeless. Life was
indeed restored through active exertions, but consciousness continued
dark, and half of the body powerless;--thus he lived on for some years.
In a moment of clearness which occurred to him shortly before he
expired, I am convinced that he desired to unfold to me the condition of
the boy, or the existence of the aforesaid letter--but death prevented
him ... How this letter became thrown amongst the old papers I do not
understand--perhaps it might be done by my husband's own hand, in that
moment of privation of consciousness in which the letter closed--enough,
the hand of Providence saved it from destruction, and allowed it to
reach me!...
"You know now the cause of my hasty journey. And if it should for me
terminate here--if I shall never achieve the highest wish, and the last
hope of my life--if I never may see again my sister's son, and myself
deliver into his hands that which has been unjustly withheld from
him--then, listen to my prayer, my solemn injunction! Seek out, as soon
as you can, in Bergen, the person whom I have named, and whose address
you will further find in the paper. Tell him, that in my last hour I
commissioned you to act in my stead; spare no expense which may be
necessary--promise, threaten--but search out where my sister's son is to
be found! And then--go to him. Bear to him my last affectionate
greeting; deliver to him this;--it is my Will, and it will put him in
possession of all that I possess, which is properly that of his mother,
for my own is nearly consumed. Tell him that care on his account has
worn away my life, that--my God! What do you? Why do you thus seize my
hand?--you weep!"
"Tell me--" stammered forth Harald, with a voice nearly choked by
emotion; "did this child wear on a ribbon round his neck a little cross
of iron?--the head of a winged cherub in its centre?"
"From his mother's neck," said Mrs. Astrid, "I transferred it to his!"
"And here----here it yet rests!" exclaimed Harald, as he led Mrs.
Astrid's hand to the little cross hanging to his neck. "What
recollections awake now! Yes, it must be so! I cannot doubt----you are
my childhood's first cherisher, my mother's sister!"
A cry of indescribable emotion interrupted Harald. "Good God!" exclaimed
Mrs. Astrid, "you are----"
"Your sister's son; the child that you mourn. At this moment I recognise
again myself and you."
"And I---- Your voice, Harald, has often struck me as strangely
familiar. At this moment I seem again to hear your father's voice. Ah,
speak! speak! for heaven's sake, explain to me----make me certain----
you give me then more than life."
"What shall I say?" continued Harald, in the highest excitement and
disquiet; "much is obscure to myself----incomprehensible. But your
narrative has at this moment called up in me recollections, impressions,
which make me certain that I neither deceive you nor myself. At this
instant I remember with perfect clearness, how I, as a child, one day
ran my little sledge on the hill before the fortress, and how I was
there addressed by the, to me, well-known Sergeant Roenn, but whose name
till this moment had entirely escaped me, who invited me to ascend his
sledge, and take a drive with him. I desired nothing better, and I got
in. I remember also now extremely well that my hat blew off, that I
wished to fetch it, but was prevented by the Sergeant, who threw a cloak
round me, and drove off at full speed. And long did the drive
continue----but from this moment my recollection becomes dark, and I
look back into a time as into a dark night, which ever and anon is
illuminated by lightning. Probably I fell then, into the heavy sickness
which long afterwards checked my growth. I recollect it as a dream, that
I would go home to my mother, but that my cries were hushed by the
Sergeant, first with good words and then with menaces. I remember dimly,
that I at one time found myself in a foul and wretched house, where
hideous men treated me harshly, and I longed to die.---- Then comes,
like a sunbeam, the impression of another home, of a clear heaven, pure
air, green meadows, and of friendly, mild people, who, with infinite
tenderness, cherished the sick and weakly child which I then was. This
home was Alette's; and her excellent parents, after they had recalled me
to life, adopted me as their son. My new relationships became
unspeakably dear to me; I was happy; my illness and the long succeeding
weakness had almost wholly obliterated the memory of the past. I had
forgotten the names of both people and places, yet never did I forget my
childhood's earliest, motherly cherisher. Like a lovely and holy image
has she followed me through life, although, with the lapse of years,
she, as it were, folded herself continually in a thicker veil.
"When I was older, I requested and received from my foster-father an
explanation of my reception into his house. I then found that he had one
day called on Mr. K---- in Christiansand, and had seen there a most
feeble and pale child, who sate in the sunshine on the floor. The child
began to weep, but hushed itself in terror when Mr. K----went up sharply
to it, and threatened it with the dark room. Moved by this occurrence,
my benefactor inquired to whom the boy belonged, and received for answer
that it was a poor child without connexions, and who had been taken in
charity and committed to K----'s care. Alette's father resolved at
once, cost what it would, to take the child out of this keeping, and
offered to take the boy himself, and try what the country air would do
for the restoration of his health. It was in this manner that I came
into the family which I thence called my own. I could obtain no
explanation respecting my parents, nor respecting my peculiar connexion
with Mr. K----. K---- died a few weeks after my removal from his house,
and his wife either knew or pretended to know nothing whatever about me.
"But my excellent foster-parents never allowed me to feel that I had no
real relatives. They made no difference between me and their own child,
and Alette became to me the tenderest and best of sisters. Death
deprived us of this beloved support; Alette's father has been now dead
two years: Alette removed to some near relatives, in order after a
certain time, to give her hand to a man whom she has long loved; and I
sought in travel to dissipate the feeling of desolation which had seized
on my heart. It was at this moment that business, or rather Providence,
conducted me to you. Admiration, and an interest whose power I cannot
describe, drew me towards you; perhaps, unknown to me, darkly operated
in me the delightful recollections of my childhood. At this moment they
have ascended in all their clearness. I seem now again transported into
the years of boyhood, when I called you mother, and loved you even to
adoration; and now--" and with passionate tenderness Harald seized the
hand of Mrs. Astrid, while he stammered forth--"now ... what says your
heart?... Can you trust this dim recollection ... this narrative without
all testimony?... May I again call you mother? Can you, will you,
receive me as son?"
"Do I wish it?... Feel these tears of joy! I have not shed many such
upon earth. I cannot doubt ... I believe ... I am happy!... Thou art my
sister's son, my child ... I have thee again. But oh! have I found thee
merely to see thee die--die here--for my sake? Am I then born to be
unfortunate? This moment is bitter."
"But delightful also!" exclaimed Harald, with warmth; "we have found
each other; we are united."
"To die!"
"Rescue is yet possible!"
"But only through a miracle."
"Providence permits wonderful things to happen; we have just had
evidence of it!" said Harald, with a gentle, admonitory tone.
"Thou art right, Harald; but I have been so unhappy! I have difficulty
to believe in happy miracles. But, at all events, God be praised for
this moment, and let His will be done!"
"Amen!" said Harald softly, but with manly fortitude; and both ceased,
exhausted, and all was in deep darkness around them, for the moon was
gone down, and the snow fell thickly. They seemed to be entombed alive.
But the miracle of rescue was near. There gleamed a light--there were
heard voices out of the snowy wilderness.
"Susanna!" exclaimed, with one voice, Mrs. Astrid and Harald. "Susanna,
our angel of salvation!"
And it was Susanna, who, with a blazing torch in her hand, rushed into
the dark vault. It glittered at once as with a million of diamonds. Some
of these gleamed in human eyes.
"You are saved, God be praised!" exclaimed Susanna. "Here are good,
strong men who will help you. But we must hasten; the snow falls
heavily."
Several peasants, bearing lights and two litters, were now seen; and
Mrs. Astrid and Harald were each laid on one of these, and covered with
soft skins.
"Susanna," said Mrs. Astrid, "come and rest here by me!"
"Nay," answered Susanna, lifting aloft her torch; "I shall go on before
and light the way. Fear not for me; I am strong!"
But a strange sensation suddenly seized her, as if her heart would sink,
and her knees failed her. She stood now a moment, then made a step
forward as to go, then felt her breast, as it were, crushed together.
She dropped on her knees, and the torch fell from her hands. "Hulda!"
she whispered to herself, "my little darling ... farewell!"
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