e twentieth of October, the town rang with the fame of Ulrik Christian Gyl

the maidens of the city peeped admiringly after him, proud when their pretty faces won them a bow or a bold glance from the audacious soldier. Even the sober fathers of families and their matrons in beruffled caps, who well knew how naugh

. He had inherited his father's hot-headedness and intemperance, but also much of his ability, his gift of thinking quickly and taking in a situation at a glance. He was extremely blunt. Several years at European courts h

ence of the city, and led the dangerous but important sallies, with such masterful insight and such mature perfection of p

hat his life might be as a cornucopia, yea, even as a horn of plenty, full and running over with praise and glory, with health, fortune, and happiness. No wonder that many a quiet family vespers ended with the prayer that God would preserve Mr. Ulrik Christian, and some pious souls added a peti

ned, she had never met him either at Mistress Rigitze's or in society, and all she h

ad. She had heard and read that he was a hero, and the murmur of enthusiasm that went th

57

never occurred to her that one could become a hero. Heroes belonged to the past. To think that one might meet a flesh-and-blood hero riding in Store-F?rgestr?de was beyond anything she had dreamed of. Life suddenly took on a different aspect. So it was not all dull routine! The great and beautiful and richly colored world she had read of in her romances and ballads was something she mi

the only thing tangible. Hence her thoughts and dreams circled about him unceasingly. She would often fly to the window at the sou

king - 58 - a pinch of dried flowers or a bit of cinnamon bark from a box on her lap and throwing it on a brazier full of live coals that stood near her. The air in the low-ceilinged room was hot and close and swee

As she turned to the room again, it seemed doubly dark and oppressive. Suddenly Ulrik Christian came in through the door, so quickly that Mistress Rigitze started. He did not notice Marie, but took a seat before th

ously and could hardly breathe. The floor seemed to be sinking under her, and the chairs, tables, and people in the room falling through space. All o

le chamber. She was frightened and could feel her hands tremble. If he would only not see

59

s, but sad-that was something she could not have imagined. He was pale and looked as if he were sorry about something. Ah, h

gies of him she had heard. She saw him storming at the head of his troops, amid the exultant cries of the people. All fell back before him, as the waves are thrown off, when they rise frothing around the broad br

him full of admira

away, with difficulty repressing a triumphant smile. The next mo

s was her little niece, a

rifle disappointed to find that the eyes that

"you're a past mistress in the art - 60 - of working quietly and secretly;

e shoved the heavy lace-maker's cushion along the window-sill,-"it came to my mind that

becoming in war-times as any oth

hem a thought in seas

n, who began to be amused at he

vely; "'tis but a child you are addressing." She

my litt

t me no longer

od, you're a thorny person, but," he whispered, "if one has greeted me with a look such as yours

foot seemed to press on her neck and grind her helplessly in the dust. Yet there was no bitterness in her heart, no defiance in her thoughts, no desire for revenge. A strange peace had come over her soul and had - 61 - chased away the flitting throng of

o to foreign lands, and who never, never came back any more, and about the prisoner who sat in the dark tower such a long dreary time, and first his noble falcon died, and then his faithful dog died, and last his good steed died, but his faithless wife Ma

looked with childlike curiosity at the large white hands that had held her in such a hard grip, and she wondered what there could be in his eyes or

him. When he was not there, the old house seemed dull and desolate, and she longed for him as the sleeple

ifferent. The silence frightened her. She dared not smile at him, but hid behind the others. Then he glanced around with a strange questioning, wistful look, and t

lying in a stream of fire, and flames flickered before her eyes, while every pulse in her heart throbbed and throbbed and throbbed. She loved him. How wonderful it was to say it to herself! She loved him! How glorious the words were, how tremendously real, and yet h

, wonderful days! Was it not joy enough when Ulrik Christian went, to throw a hundred kisses after him, unseen by him and all others, or - 63 - when he came, to fancy how her beloved would take her in his arms and call her by every sweet name she could think

aps been unable to endure the continued strain of night-watches and hard work in connection with his post. Or possibly fresh dissipations had strung the bow too tightly. A wasti

opped absentmindedly before the paintings on the walls, and seemed to examine with intense interest the fat, naked nymphs, outstretched under the trees, the bathing Susannas, and the simpering Judith with bare, muscular arms. They could not hold his attentio

g the palms of his hands together, until the door really opened. A middle-aged woman wearing a huge flounced cap of red-dotted stuff appeared and be

, painted in gaudy colors. The deep, narrow lattice-window was partially veiled by a sash-curtain of thin, blue-gray stuff, leaving the lower part of the room in deep twilight, while the sunbeams played fre

He clutched a chair for support, his head swam, and everything seemed to be whirling around him-the table covered with flasks and phials, the window

e greeted in a trembling voice as soon as

re?" roared the sick man, tr

, and coming close to the bed, gently stroked the coverlet. "'Tis the venerable C

es of defeat, yet men may understand, though not justify, the circumstance that you, whose duty it has been to command and set a valiant example to your people, may for a moment have forgotten that we are but as nothing, as a reed in the wind, nay, as the puny grafted shoot in the hands of the mighty Creator. You may have thought foolishly: This have I done, this is a fruit that I have brought to ma

stian and sat up in bed. "Do you suppose, you sour-faced baldpate, do you suppose, because my bones a

66

his duty in seeking to turn your thoughts toward that which is assuredly to you the one thing needful. Oh, honored lord, it avails but little to kick against the pricks! Has no

w I've rightfully brought on myself, and if you suppose that heaven or hell sends it, I can tell you that a man gets it by drinking and w

uchsafed the privilege of opening this hardened soul to the truth and glorious consolation of religion. When the patient was quiet again he began: "My lord, my lord, with tears and weeping I beg and beseech you to cease from such abominable cursing and swearing! Remember, the axe is lai

ard of the bed. He pointed threateningly to the door and cried again a

use you misdoubt the possibility of finding grace, since the mountain of your sins is o

go!" hissed Ulrik Christian bet

ere red as blood, a

about

e them white

e a furious lunge after the pastor, who, however, escaped into the adjoining room, slamming the door after him. In his rage, Ulrik

the points of light penetrating the curtain, and counted the black rings in the iron lattice. A pleased smile flitted over his face when he

68

Church, Dr. Jens Justesen. He was a tall, rather stout man, with coarse, strong features, short

to shake with rage, and let loose a broadside of oaths and railing against the pastor, against

uarrels with men. You are like those criminals and disturbers of peace who, when their judgment is fallen and they can no longer escape the red-hot pincers and the axe, then in their miserable impotence curse and revile the Lord our God with filthy and wild

er the coverlet. Then he cried: "Guard yourself, priest-belly!" and made a sudden lu

y're scarce fitting for you or me. And now this - 69 - wom

ew his chair up to the bed, while Ulrik

e wages of sin, about God's love for the chil

hummed bits of ribald songs, and tried to interrupt with blasphemous questions, but the pastor went on sp

p in bed and looked the pa

lies and old wive

or all such the courts of hell are prepared. Do not mock the terrible name of hell, for it is a name that contains a fire of torment and the wailing and gnashing of teeth of the damned! Alas, the anguish of hell is greater than any human mind can conceive; for if one were tortured to death and woke in hell, he would long for the wheel and the red-hot pincers as for Abraham's - 70 - bosom. 'Tis true that sickness and disease are bitter to the flesh of man when they pierce like a draught, inch by inch, thr

e said, "I won't! I've nothing to do with your heav

alley of death are two doors, one leading to the bliss of heaven and o

deep, deep grave hard by for those who went their own way, a

d scramble to escape the yawning abyss, and cry miserably to that God whose path they would not follow, begging Him to take them away. The cries of

me? On your word as an honest

71

t

ut your God! I don't want t

mouths gasp for air, among the flames that flicker over the surface. I see their bodies drifting like white gulls on the sea, yea, like a frothing foam in a storm, and their shrieks are like the noise of the ea

outh? Or give me your wine and bread, if there's salvation in 'em as they say! Or is it all a lie-a confounded lie? I'll crawl to the feet of your God like a whipped

ra

t in bed and folded his hands. "Is that right?" he aske

or made

feverish eyes turned upward. "There are no words, pastor," he whi

72

ed: "Lord Jesu Christ, see, I break my sword!" and he lift

e sacrament without delay, for he seemed not to have a long time

y and friends, the physician in ordinary to the King, and two or three gentlemen of the court were assembled to receive the noblemen, foreign ministers, officers, court

as asleep. A barber-surgeon and a lackey had been posted in the ante-room to be within call, but they were both squatting on the floor near the window, playing dice on the straw

ctor," they said, looking

im, uncertain light, he looked very pale and unlike himself, - 73 - the forehead had a deathly whiteness, the eyelid

ed. She knelt, supporting her elbows on t

e called, and laid he

lse here?" he

d. "Art thou very

s all ove

Whom have I if you go? No

st die-yes, yes,-bread and wine-body and blood-d'you believe they help? No, no, in the nam

d her hands

Why is the bed turning?-Hold fast, hold fast! 'Tis turning-like a whirlwind of unthinkable woe, a dance of eternal anguish, and-ha, ha, ha! Am I drunk

üssen Ist Hi

you're round - 74 - and warm. Kiss me warm

p and fondling a strange woman. She lifted her prayer-book threateningly and cried: "H'raus, thou hell-born wench! To think of the shameless thing sit

and again. "Oh, thou cursed devil! You would lead me to sin in my last breath, in my last hour, when one should be so careful. Begone, be

hrew himself down and prayed and prayed, while Shoemaker's Anne read slowly

lrik Christian was