nter, until it met a long, slender cloud, caught its waving edge, and fired it with a glowing, burning radiance. Violet and pale pink, the reflection from the sunrise clouds fell over

ards, and the heavy, fruit-laden branches of the t

the other corners of the city. The lonely watchmen on the ramparts began to pace more briskly

h green woods, the huntsman's cry and the fiddler's play and the rustling of stiff, billowy silks. Distant but sunlit, the life of his childhood in the red-roofed Holstein town passed before him. He saw the tall form of his mother, Mistress Margrethe Pappen, a black - 42 - hymn-book in her white hands. He saw the freckled chamber-maid with her thin ankles and the fencing-master with his pimpled, purplish face and

and in the same moment the sun broke out, brigh

fresh, dewy morning, and Annette's cascades of ringing laughter, and the ball at the Elector's, and his lonely walk outside of the city gates with head aching, the first time he had been tipsy. The rest was a golden mist, filled with the tinkling of goblets and the scent of wine, and there were Lieschen and Lotte, and Martha's white neck and Adelaide's r

43

her voice sounded in his spell-bound memory-beautiful and voluptuously soft, its low notes drawing lik

es of the rampart below w

there!"

Knopf," was the answer, as a little crip

A thousand plagues, wh

looking down a

n't come unscathed from the 'fiery furnace' last night.

r his sharp tongue and his skill in fencing. He was boon companion with the younger nobility, or at least with a certain group of gallants, le cercle des mourants, consisting chiefly of younger men about

one else could discourse so scientifically on bowling and dog-training or talk with such unction of feints and parrying. No one knew wine as he did. He had worked out profound theories about dicing and love-making, and could spea

when, in a fit of drunken frolic, they would dress him up in some whimsical guise. He let himself be kicked about and bullied without r

was human speech. Their existence swam in a shimmer of light and a sea of fragrance, while common folk dragged out their lives in drab-colored twilight and stuffy ai

ght mist that clouded your eyes last night, since you've run aground here on the rampart, or

45

u rave if you suppose I was

the matter then?" cried U

looking up at him with tears in

l, or do you think the saffron will lose its strength and the mildew fall on your pepper and paradise grain? You've a ha'penny soul! As if good

Gylden

e devil with

by officers and men like one sick with the leprosy or convicted of crime, that's a sinful wrong against me, Lord Gyldenl?ve. That's why I've been lying in the grass all night like a scabby dog that's been turned out, that's why I've been wr

ning Satan has t

of quality. Some parties said they would have no crooked billets, for cripples drew the bullets and brought ill luck, and none would hazard life and limb unduly by having amongst them one whom the Lord had marked. Then I beg

u go to the office

of the cercle and spoke to one or two of the m

hey give y

e fit to wear cap and bells at a merry bout, but when they were on duty I was to keep out of their sight. Now, was that well spoken, Lord Gyldenl?ve? No, 'twas a sin, a sin! Even if they'd made free with me in the wine-cellars, they said, I needn't think I was one of them, or that I could b

47

might find it irksome to sweat over your desk while the fate of the realm is decided here on the ramparts. Look

n his rage and gritted his teeth, h

arce expect me to put faith in your word as if 'twere that of a ge

Frederik drew himself up, while the blood rushed to his face. He looked after the white sm

on you can report to me, and

en sighed deeply, sat down in the gras

The long, dull-blue pennants of the dyers were flung out on the breeze and fell down again in spirals that tightened around their quivering staffs. The turners' spinning-wheels rocked and swayed; hairy tails flapped over the doors of the furriers, and the resplendent glass suns - 48 - of the glazier

ly the flies were buzzing about cheerfully in the sultry atmosphere. The streets were unendurable,

eyes accented the pallor of her skin. The nose was sharp, but finely cut, the mouth wide though not full, and with a morbid sweetness in its smile. The lips were scarlet, the chin somewhat pointed, but firm and well rounded. Her dress was slovenly: an old black velvet

ght of the Elephant, had died when she was yet a child, and a few years ago her mother, Mistress Margrethe Marsvin, had followed him.

d, and kept time by swinging o

ady circles, seemed seized with a sudden tempestuous madness, while the raspberry bushes, timidly ducking their heads, turned the pale inner side of their leaves to the light and changed color at e

still quivering in suspense, but the next instant the wind came shrieking again and caught the

lute, and loudly blew it. Many a day did Phyllis rue it; For the oa

p the walk, sometimes stopping to look at a flower, as though he had not noticed that there was any one else in the garden. Presently he turned down a side-path, paused a moment behind a l

ood-day!" he exclaimed

isposed of her needle, smoothed her embroidery with her hands,

d, bowing. "I expected to find n

e and smiled. "He's not here,

Ulrik Frederik

se. Then Sofie spoke: "H

thunderstorm, if t

ie, looking thoughtfu

ed Ulrik Frederik, drawing himself up as

danger to life and goods, and for me with so many kinsmen and good friends in this miserable affair, who are like to l

living God, you must not shed tears

s au jour Des objects de

r hand and lifte

re d'amour Est plein de

ck diamond flashing in the sun, the poignantly beautiful arch of her lips, the proud lily paleness of her cheeks melting slowly into a rose-golden flus

yelids dropped. The embroidery slipped from her lap. Ulrik Frederik stooped

s Sofie!

h and looked at him with gentle

in the pleasant relations that have hitherto existed between us. It serves no purpose but to - 52 - bring trouble and vexation to us

d friend. For the bloody sweat of Christ, put not your faith in anything so utterly impossible! My love is no smouldering spark that will flame up or be extinguished according as you blow hot or cold on it. Par dieu!

ou are thirty you find yourself saddled with an old wrinkled hag of a wife, who has brought you but little fortune, and not otherwise aided in your preferment! Would you not then wish that at twenty you had married a young royal lady, your equal in age and birth, who could have advanced you better than a common gentlewoman? Dear Ulrik Frederik, go speak to your noble kinsmen, they will tell you the same. But what they cannot tell you is this: if you brought to your home such a gentlewoman, older than

t. May God the Father keep thee! Do you remember the Spanish romance book where it tells of a certain vine of India which winds itself about a tree for support, and goes on encircling it, long after the tree is dead and

is eyes and turned to go,

when my blood is drunk with thee and I am bereft of all power over myself! I am possessed with thee, and if thou turnest away thy heart from me in this very hour, thou shouldst yet be mine, in s

iolently and pressed h

eyes full of tears. Then she smiled. "Have it as thou

ng had readily given his consent, feeling that it was time to make an e