O. T., A Danish Romance

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"No, upon the heath, near Vestervovov, as it is called here, will
old Rosalie die; here I have felt myself at home, here I have two
or three friends. The family at Lemvig have invited me, have for me
a place at table, a little room, and friendly faces. Switzerland
would be no longer that Switzerland which I quitted. Nature would
greet me as an old acquaintance; it would be to me music, once more
to hear the ringing of the cows' bells; it would affect me deeply,
once again to kneel in the little chapel on the mountain: but I
should soon feel myself a greater stranger there than here. Had it
been fifteen years ago, my sister would still have been living, the
dear, pious Adele! She dwelt with my uncle close on the confines of
Neufchatel, as thou knowest, scarcely a quarter of a mile from Le
Locle--_the town_, as we called it, because it was the largest
place in the neighborhood. Now there are only distant relations of
mine living, who have forgotten me. I am a stranger there. Denmark
gave me bread, it will also give me a grave!"

"I thought of giving thee a pleasure!" said Otto.

"That thou dost by thy love to me!" returned she.

"I thought thou wouldst have shown me thy mountains, thy home, of
which thou hast so often spoken!"

"That can I still do. I remember every spot, every tree--all
remains so clear in my recollection. Then we ascend together the
Jura higher and higher; here are no more vineyards to be found, no
maize, no chestnuts only dark pines, huge cliffs, here and there a
beech, as green and large as in Denmark. Now we have the wood
behind us, we are many feet above the sea; thou canst perceive this
by the freshness of the air. Everywhere are green meadows;
uninterruptedly reaches our ear the ringing of the cow-bells. Thou
as yet seest no town, and yet we are close upon Le Locle. Suddenly
the road turns; in the midst of the mountain-level we perceive a
small valley, and in this lies the town, with its red roofs, its
churches, and large gardens. Close beneath the windows rises the
mountain-side, with its grass and flowers; it looks as though the
cattle must be precipitated upon the houses. We go through the long
street, past the church; the inhabitants are Protestants--it is a
complete town of watchmakers. My uncle and Adele also sat the whole
day, and worked at wheels and chains. That was for Monsieur
Houriet, in Le Locle. His daughters I know; one is called Rosalie,
like myself. Rosalie and Lydia, they will certainly have forgotten
me! But it is true that we are upon our own journey! Now, thou
seest, at the end of the town we do not follow the broad road--that
leads to Besancon; we remain in the lesser one, here in the valley
where the town lies. The beautiful valley! The green mountain-sides
we keep to our right; on it are scattered houses, with large stones
upon their steep wooden roofs, and with little gardens tilled with
plum-trees. Steep cliff-walls shut in the valley; there stands up a
crag; if thou climbest it thou canst look straight into France: one
sees a plain, flat like the Danish plains. In the valley where we
are, close under the rock, lies a little house; O, I see it
distinctly! white-washed and with blue painted window-frames: at
the gate a great chained dog. I hear him bark! We step into that
quiet, friendly little house! The children are playing about on the
ground. O, my little Henry-Numa-Robert! Ah, it is true that now he
is older and taller than thou! We descend the steps toward the
cellar. Here stand sacks and chests of flour; under the floor one
hears a strange roaring; still a few steps lower, and we must light
the lamp, for here it is dark. We find ourselves in a great water-mill,
a subterranean mill. Deep below in the earth rushes a river--
above no one dreams of it; the water dashes down several fathoms
over the rushing wheel, which threatens to seize our clothes and
whirl us away into the circle. The steps on which we stand are
slippery: the stone walls drip with water, and only a step beyond
the depth appears bottomless! O, thou wilt love this mill as I love
it! Again having reached the light of day, and under free heaven,
one only perceives the quiet, friendly little house. Dost thou
know, Otto, often as thou hast sat quiet and dreaming, silent as a
statue, have I thought of my mill, and the repose which it
presented? and yet how wildly the stream roared in its bosom, how
the wheels rushed round, and how gloomy it was in the depth!"

"We will leave the mill!" said Otto, and sought to lead her from
her reflections back to her own relation. "We find ourselves in the
wood, where the ringing of the evening-bell reaches our ear from
the little chapel in Franche Compte."

"There stands my father's house!" said Rosalie. "From the corner-window
one looks over the wood toward Aubernez, [Author's Note: A village
in the canton Neufchatel, lying close upon the river Doub, where
it forms the boundary between Switzerland and France.] where the
ridge leads over the Doub. The sun shines upon the river, which,
far below, winds along, gleaming like the clearest silver."

"And the whole of France spreads itself out before us!" said Otto.

"How beautiful! O, how beautiful!" exclaimed Rosalie, and her eyes
sparkled as she gazed before her; but soon her glance became sad,
and she pressed Otto's hand. "No one will welcome me to my home! I
know neither their joys nor their sorrows--they are not my own
family! In Denmark--I am at home. When the cold sea-mist spreads
itself over the heath I often fancy I am living among my mountains,
where the heather grows. The mist seems to me then to be a snow-cloud
which rests over the mountains, and thus, when other people are
complaining of the bad weather, I am up among my mountains!"

"Thou wilt then remove to the family at Lemvig?" asked Otto.

"There I am welcome!" returned she.

CHAPTER XVII

"Look at the calming sea. The waves still tremble in the depths,
and stem to fear the gale.--Over my head is hovering the shadowy
mist.--My curls are wet with the filling dew."--OSSIAN.

Otto had not as yet visited the sand-hills on the strand, the
fishermen, or the peasants, among whom formerly he had spent all
his spare time.

The beautiful summer's day drove him forth, his heart yearned to
drink in the summer warmth.

Only the roads between the larger towns are here tolerable, or
rather as tolerable as the country will allow. The by-ways were
only to be discerned by the traces of cart-wheels, which ran on
beside each other; at certain places, to prevent the wheels sinking
into the deep sand, ling had been spread; where this is not the
case, and the tracks cross each other, a stranger would scarcely
find the way. Here the landmark places its unseen boundary between
neighboring possessions.

Every farm, every cottage, every hill, was an old acquaintance to
Otto. He directed his steps toward Harbooere, a parish which, one
may say, consists of sand and water, but which, nevertheless, is
not to be called unfruitful. A few of the inhabitants pursue
agriculture, but the majority consists of fishermen, who dwell in
small houses and have no land.

His first encounter upon his wandering was with one of those large
covered wagons with which the so-called eelmen, between the days of
St. John and St. Bartholomew, go with eels toward the small towns
lying to the south and east, and then, laden with apples and garden
produce, return home--articles which are rapidly consumed by the
common people. The eelman stopped when he saw and recognized
Otto.

"Welcome, Mr. Otto!" said he. "Yes, you are come over abut a sad
affair! That Major Thostrup should have gone off so! But there was
nothing else to be expected from him he was old enough."

"Death demands his right!" replied Otto, and pressed the man's
hand. "Things go, doubtless, well with you, Morten Chraenseu?"

"The whole cart full of eels, and some smoked carp! It is also good
to meet with you, Mr. Otto. Upon the land a preacher is very good,
but not upon the sea, as they say at home. Yes, you are certainly
now a preacher, or will become one?"

"No, I am not studying to become a preacher!" answered Otto.

"No! will you then become a lawyer? It strikes me you are clever
enough--you have no need to study any more! You will just go and
say a few words to them at home? The grandmother sits and spins
yarn for eel-nets. She has now the cataract on the other eye, but
her mouth is as well as ever; she does not let herself grow dumb,
although she does sit in the dark. Mother provides the baits; she
has also enough to do with the hooks."

"But Maria, the lively little Maria?" said Otto.

"The girl? She has gone this year with the other fishergirls to
Ringkjoebing, to be hired for the hay and corn harvest; we thought
we could do without her at home. But now, God willing! I must
travel on." Cordially he shook Otto's hand, and pursued his slow
journey.

The brothers of the eelman were active fishermen, as their father
had been before them; and although they were all married they lived
together. The swarm of children was not insignificant; young and
old formed one family, in which the old grandmother had the first
voice.

Otto approached the dwelling; before it lay a little plot of land,
planted with potatoes and carrots, and also beds of onions and
thyme. Two large bull-dogs, with sharp teeth and wicked eyes,
rushed toward Otto. "Tyv! Grumsling!" shrieked a voice, and the
dogs let fall their tails and drew back, with a low growl, toward
the house. Here at the threshold sat an old woman in a red woolen
jacket, with a handkerchief of the same material and same color
about her neck, and upon her head a man's black felt hat. She spun.
Otto immediately recognized the old blind grandmother.

"God's peace be in the house!" said he.

"That voice I have not heard for a year and a day!" replied the old
woman, and raised her head, as if she would see him with her dead
eyes. "Are not you Major Thostrup's Otto? You resemble him in the
voice. I thought, truly, that if you came here you would pay us a
visit. Ide shall leave the baits and put on the kettle, that you
may have a cup of coffee. Formerly you did not use to despise our
entertainment. You have not grown proud with your journey, have
you? The coffee-vetch [Author's Note: Astragalus baeticus is used
as a substitute for coffee, and is principally grown upon the
sand-hills west of Holmsland. It is first freed from the husk, and then
dried and roasted a little.] is good; it is from Holmsland, and
tastes better than the merchant's beans." The dogs still growled at
Otto. "Cannot you stupid beasts, who have still eyes in your heads
to see with, recognize that this is the Major's Otto?" cried she
wrathfully, and gave them several good blows with her hand.

Otto's arrival created a great stir in the little household that he
was welcome, you might see by every countenance.

"Yes," said the grandmother, "now you are grown much wiser in the
town, could, very likely, were it needful, write an almanac! You
will very likely have found for yourself a little bride there, or
will you fetch one out of Lemvig? for no doubt she must be from a
town! Yes, I have known him ever since he was a little fellow;
yonder, on the wall, he made, out of herrings' heads, the living
devil, just as he lives and breathes. He thrust our sucking-pig
into the eel-cart, between the casks. We sought a whole day after
the sucking-pig without finding him, and he was forced to make the
journey with them to Holstebro. Yes, he was a wild fellow! Later,
when he was obliged to learn so much, he became sad. Yes, yes,
within the last years his books have overdone him!"

"Yes, many a time has he put out to sea with my husband!" pursued
one of the daughters-in-law. "One night he remained out with him.
How anxious the French Mamsell at the hall was about him!"

"He was never haughtty," said the grandmother. "He nibbled his
dried fish with the fresh fish, and drank a little cup of water,
although he was used to better things at home. But to-day we have
white bread, fresh and good; it came yesterday from Lemvig."

The brandy-glass, with its wooden, red-painted foot, was placed
before Otto. Under the bed there was an anker of brandy,--"a little
stock," as all stranded goods are here called.

Otto inquired after the married sons. They were with their men on
the shore, ready to embark on their fishing expedition, The
grandmother would accompany him thither; they were not yet
departed: she should first take them provisions.

The old woman took her stick, the dog sprang forward, and now
commenced their wandering among the sand-hills, where their huts or
booths, built with rafters and smeared with earth, stood. Around
lay the refuse of fish,--heads and entrails, thrown about. The men
were just then busied in carrying the trough and fishing-tackle
[Author's Note: A "Bakke" consists of three lines, each of 200
Danish ells, or about 135 yards, and of 200 fishing-hooks; the
stretched "Bakke" is thus about 200 yards, with 600 hooks; these
are attached to the line with strings half an ell long and as thick
as fine twine. To each "Bakke" belongs a square trough, on which it
is carried on board. To a larger fishing-boat are reckoned six lots
of hooks; each lot has eight to nine "Bakkes."] on board.

The open sea lay before them, almost as bright as a mirror, for the
wind was easterly. Near to them paused a horseman; he was partly
dressed like a peasant, with riding-breeches on, which were
buttoned down at the sides.

"Have you heard the news?" he cried to Otto. "I come from
Ringkjoebing. At Merchant Cohen's I have read the German paper;
there is a revolution in France! Charles X. is fled with the whole
royal family. Yes, in Paris, there is fine work!"

"The French are a wild people!" said the grandmother. "A king and a
queen they have beheaded in my time; now they will do the same with
these. Will our dear Lord suffer that such things be done to His
anointed?"

"There will be war again!" said one of the fishermen.

"Then more horses will go out of the country," said the stranger,
pressed Otto's hand, and vanished behind the sandhills.

"Was not that the horse-dealer from Varde?" inquired Otto.

"Yes, he understands languages," said the fisherman; "and thus he
is acquainted with foreign affairs sooner than we. Then they are
now fighting in France! Blood flows in the streets; it will not be
so in Denmark before the Turk binds his horse to the bush in the
Viborg Lake. And then, according to the prophecy of the sibyl, it
will be near the end of the world."

Meanwhile, everything was prepared for their embarkation. If Mr.
Otto would take the further oar, and was inclined to pass the night
on the sea, there was a place for him in the boat. But he had
promised Rosalie to be back before evening. The grandmother now
prayed, kneeling with the others, and immediately after quick
strokes of the oars the flat boat rowed away from the shore. The
fate of France was forgotten; their calling occupied the fishermen.

The old woman seemed to listen to the strokes of the oars; her dead
eyes rested immovably on the sea. A sea-mew passed close to her in
its flight. "That was a bird!" said she. "Is there no one here
beside ourselves?"

"No; no one at all," answered Otto, carelessly.

"Is no one in the hut, no one behind the sand-hills?" again asked
the grandmother. "It was not on account of the dried meat that I
came here--it was not to wet my face on the shore; I speak with you
alone, which I could not do in the house. Give me your hand! Now
that the old man rests in the grave, you yourself will guide the
rudder; the estate will be sold, and you will not come again to the
west coast. Our Lord has made it dark before my eyes before He has
closed my ears and given me leave to go. I can no longer see you,
but I have you in my thought as you looked before you left our
land. That you are handsomer now I can easily imagine; but gayer
you are not! Talk you certainly can, and I have heard you laugh;
but that was little better than the two last years you were here.
Once it was different with you--no fairy could be wilder than you!"

"With years one becomes more quiet," said Otto, and gazed with
astonishment at the blind woman, who did not leave go his hand. "As
a boy I was far too merry--that could not continue; and that I
should now be grave, I have, as you will see, sufficient reason--I
have lost my last support."

"Yes, truly, truly!" repeated she slowly, and as if pondering; then
shook her head. "That is not the reason. Do you not believe in the
power of the devil? our Lord Christ forgive me! do not you believe
in the power of wicked men? There is no greater difference between
the human child and the changeling brat which the underground
spirits lay in his stead in the cradle, than there is between you
when you were a boy and you as you became during the last year of
your stay here. 'That comes from books, from so much learning,'
said I to other people. Could I only have said so to myself! But
you shall become gay; the trouble of your heart shall wither like a
poisonous weed. I know whence it sprung, and will, with God's help,
heal it. Will you solemnly promise, that no soul in the world shall
learn what we speak of in this hour?"

"What have you to say to me?" asked Otto, affected by the
extraordinary earnestness of the old woman.

"The German Heinrich, the player! You remember him well? He is to
blame for your grief! Yes, his name drives the blood more quickly
through your pulse. I feel it, even if I cannot see your face."

"The German Heinrich!" repeated Otto, and his hand really trembled.
Had Heinrich, then, when he was here three years ago, told her and
the fishermen that which no human being must know,--that which had
destroyed the gayety of his youth? "What have I to do with the
German Heinrich?"

"Nothing more than a pious Christian has to do with the devil!"
replied she, and made the sign of the cross. "But Heinrich has
whispered an evil word in your ear; he has banished your joyous
humor, as one banishes a serpent."

"Has he told you this?" exclaimed Otto, and breathed more quickly.
"Tell me all that he has said!"

"You will not make me suffer for it!" said she. "I am innocent, and
yet I have cooperated in it: it was only a word but a very unseemly
word, and for it one must account at the day of judgment!"

"I do not understand you!" said Otto, and his eyes glanced around
to see whether any one heard. They were quite alone. In the far
distance the boat with the fishermen showed itself like a dark
speck.

"Do you remember how wild you were as a boy? How you fastened
bladders to the cat's legs and tail, and flung her out of the
loft-window that she might fly? I do not say this in anger, for I
thought a deal of you; but when you became too insolent one might
wall say, 'Can no one, then, curb this lad?' See, these words I
said!--that is my whole fault, but since then have lain heavy on my
heart. Three years ago came the German Heinrich, and stayed two
nights in our house; God forgive it us! Tricks he could play, and
he understood more than the Lord's Prayer--more than is useful to a
man. With one trick you were to assist him, but when he gave you
the goblet you played your own tricks, and he could make nothing
succeed. You would also be clever. Then he cast an evil eye upon
you, although he was still so friendly and submissive, because you
were a gentleman's child. Do you remember--no, you will certainly
have forgotten--how you once took the baits of the hooks off and
hung my wooden shoes on instead? Then I said in anger, and the
anger of man is never good, 'Can no one, then, tame this boy for
me? He was making downright fun of you to your own face,' said I to
the player. 'Do you not know some art by which you can tame this
wild-cat?' Then he laughed maliciously, but I thought no more of
the matter. The following day, however, he said, 'Now I have curbed
the lad! You should only see how tame he is become; and should he
ever again turn unruly, only ask him what word the German Heinrich
whispered in his ear, and you shall. Then see how quiet he will
become. He shall not mock this trick!' My heart was filled with
horror, but I thought afterward it really meant nothing. Ei! ei!
from the hour he was here you are no longer the same as formerly;
that springs from the magical word he whispered in your ear. You
cannot pronounce the word, he told me; but by it you have been
enchanted: this, and not book-learning, has worked the change. But
you shall be delivered! If you have faith, and that you must have,
you shall again become gay, and I, spite of the evil words which I
spoke, be able to sleep peacefully in my grave. If you will only
lay this upon your heart, now that the moon is in its wane, the
trouble will vanish out of your heart as the disk of the moon
decreases!" And saying this she drew out of her pocket a little
leather purse, opened it and took out a piece of folded paper. "In
this is a bit of the wood out of which our Saviour's cross was
made. This will draw forth the sorrow from your heart, and bear it,
as it bore Him who took upon Himself the sorrow of the whole
world!" She kissed it with pious devotion, and then handed it to
Otto.

The whole became clear to him. He recollected how in his boyish
wantonness he had caused Heinrich's tricks to miscarry, which
occasioned much pleasure to the spectators, but in Heinrich
displeasure: they soon again became friends, and Otto recognized in
him the merry weaver of the manufactory, as he called his former
abode. They were alone, Otto asked whether he did not remember his
name: Heinrich shook his head. Then Otto uncovered his shoulder,
bade him read the branded letters, and heard the unhappy
interpretation which gave the death-blow to his gayety. Heinrich
must have seen what an impression his words made upon the boy: he
gained through them an opportunity of avenging himself, and at the
same time of bringing himself again into repute: as a sorcerer. He
had tamed him, whispered he to the old woman,--he had tamed the boy
with a single word. At any future wantonness of Otto's, gravity and
terror would immediately return should any one ask him, What word
did the German Heinrich whisper into thy ear? "Only ask him," had
Heinrich said.

In a perfectly natural manner there lay, truly, enchantment in
Heinrich's words, even although it were not that enchantment which
the superstition of the old woman would have signified. A
revelation of the connection of affairs would have removed her
doubts, but here an explanation was impossible to Otto. He pressed
her hand, besought her to be calm; no sorrow lay heavy on his
heart, except the loss of his dear grandfather.

"Every evening have I named your name it my prayers said the old
grandmother." Each time when the harbingers of bad weather showed
themselves, and my sons were on the sea, so that we hung out flags
or lighted beacons as signals, did I think of the words which had
escaped my lips, and which the wicked Heinrich had caught up; I
feared lest our Lord might cause my children to suffer for my
injustice."

"Be calm, my dear old woman!" said Otto. "Keep for yourself the
holy cross, on the virtue of which you rely; may it remove each
sorrow from your own heart!"

"No, I am guilty of my own sorrow! yours has a stranger laid upon
your heart! Only the sorrow of the guiltless will the cross bear."

The beautiful sentiment which, unconsciously to her, lay in these
words, affected Otto. He accepted the present, preserved it, sought
to calm the old woman, and once more at parting glanced toward the
splendid sea expanse which formed its own boundary.

It was almost evening before he reached the house where Rosalie
awaited him. His last scene with the blind fisher-woman had again
thrown him into his gloomy mood. "After all, she really knows
nothing!" said he to himself. "This Heinrich is my evil angel!
might he only die soon!" It was in Otto's soul as if he could shoot
a ball through Heinrich's heart. "Did he only lie buried under the
heather, and with him my secret! I will have blood! yes, there is
something devilish in man! Were Heinrich only dead! But others live
who know my birth,--my sister! my poor, neglected sister, she who
had the same right to intellectual development as myself! How I
fear this meeting! it will be bitter! I must away. I will hence--
here will my life-germ be stifled! I have indeed fortune--I will
travel! This animated France will drive away these whims, and--I am
away, far removed from my home. In the coming spring I shall be a
stranger among strangers!" And his thoughts melted into a quiet
melancholy. In this manner he reached the hall.

CHAPTER XVIII

"L'Angleterre jalouse et la Grece homerique,
Toute l'Europe admire, et la jeune Amerique
Se leve et bat des mains du bord des oceans.
Trois jours vous ont suffi pour briser vos entraves.
Vous etes les aines d'une race de braves,
Vous etes les fits des geans!"
V. HUGO, Chants du Crepuscule.

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