the story of the wind-第3章

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gold！'　he　shouted；　again　holding　the　glass　aloft；　that　it　might

flash　in　the　sunshine；　but　his　hand　trembled；　and　the　alchymic　glass

fell　from　it；　clattering　to　the　ground；　and　brake　in　a　thousand

pieces。　The　last　bubble　of　his　happiness　had　burst；　with　a　whiz　and

a　whir；　and　I　rushed　away　from　the　gold…maker's　house。

　　　　〃Late　in　the　autumn；　when　the　days　were　short；　and　the　mist

sprinkled　cold　drops　on　the　berries　and　the　leafless　branches；　I

came　back　in　fresh　spirits；　rushed　through　the　air；　swept　the　sky

clear；　and　snapped　off　the　dry　twigs；　which　is　certainly　no　great

labor　to　do；　yet　it　must　be　done。　There　was　another　kind　of　sweeping

taking　place　at　Waldemar　Daa's；　in　the　castle　of　Borreby。　His　enemy；

Owe　Ramel；　of　Basnas；　was　there；　with　the　mortgage　of　the　house　and

everything　it　contained；　in　his　pocket。　I　rattled　the　broken

windows；　beat　against　the　old　rotten　doors；　and　whistled　through

cracks　and　crevices；　so　that　Mr。　Owe　Ramel　did　not　much　like　to　remain

there。　Ida　and　Anna　Dorothea　wept　bitterly；　Joanna　stood；　pale　and

proud；　biting　her　lips　till　the　blood　came；　but　what　could　that　avail？

Owe　Ramel　offered　Waldemar　Daa　permission　to　remain　in　the　house

till　the　end　of　his　life。　No　one　thanked　him　for　the　offer；　and　I

saw　the　ruined　old　gentleman　lift　his　head；　and　throw　it　back　more

proudly　than　ever。　Then　I　rushed　against　the　house　and　the　old

lime…trees　with　such　force；　that　one　of　the　thickest　branches；　a

decayed　one；　was　broken　off；　and　the　branch　fell　at　the　entrance；

and　remained　there。　It　might　have　been　used　as　a　broom；　if　any　one　had

wanted　to　sweep　the　place　out；　and　a　grand　sweeping…out　there　really

was；　I　thought　it　would　be　so。　It　was　hard　for　any　one　to　preserve

composure　on　such　a　day；　but　these　people　had　strong　wills；　as

unbending　as　their　hard　fortune。　There　was　nothing　they　could　call

their　own；　excepting　the　clothes　they　wore。　Yes；　there　was　one　thing

more；　an　alchymist's　glass；　a　new　one；　which　had　been　lately　bought；

and　filled　with　what　could　be　gathered　from　the　ground　of　the　treasure

which　had　promised　so　much　but　failed　in　keeping　its　promise。　Waldemar

Daa　hid　the　glass　in　his　bosom；　and；　taking　his　stick　in　his　hand；　the

once　rich　gentleman　passed　with　his　daughters　out　of　the　house　of

Borreby。　I　blew　coldly　upon　his　flustered　cheeks；　I　stroked　his　gray

beard　and　his　long　white　hair；　and　I　sang　as　well　as　I　was　able；

'Whir…r…r；　whir…r…r。　Gone　away！　Gone　away！'　Ida　walked　on　one　side

of　the　old　man；　and　Anna　Dorothea　on　the　other；　Joanna　turned　round；

as　they　left　the　entrance。　Why？　Fortune　would　not　turn　because　she

turned。　She　looked　at　the　stone　in　the　walls　which　had　once　formed

part　of　the　castle　of　Marck　Stig；　and　perhaps　she　thought　of　his

daughters　and　of　the　old　song；…



　　　　　　　　　　　〃The　eldest　and　youngest；　hand…in…hand；

　　　　　　　　　　　　Went　forth　alone　to　a　distant　land。〃



These　were　only　two；　here　there　were　three；　and　their　father　with　them

also。　They　walked　along　the　high…road；　where　once　they　had　driven　in

their　splendid　carriage；　they　went　forth　with　their　father　as　beggars。

They　wandered　across　an　open　field　to　a　mud　hut；　which　they　rented　for

a　dollar　and　a　half　a　year；　a　new　home；　with　bare　walls　and　empty

cupboards。　Crows　and　magpies　fluttered　about　them；　and　cried；　as　if　in

contempt；　'Caw；　caw；　turned　out　of　our　nest…　caw；　caw；'　as　they　had

done　in　the　wood　at　Borreby；　when　the　trees　were　felled。　Daa　and　his

daughters　could　not　help　hearing　it；　so　I　blew　about　their　ears　to

drown　the　noise；　what　use　was　it　that　they　should　listen？　So　they　went

to　live　in　the　mud　hut　in　the　open　field；　and　I　wandered　away；　over

moor　and　meadow；　through　bare　bushes　and　leafless　forests；　to　the　open

sea；　to　the　broad　shores　in　other　lands；　'Whir…r…r；　whir…r…r！　Away；

away！'　year　after　year。〃

　　　　And　what　became　of　Waldemar　Daa　and　his　daughters？　Listen；　the

Wind　will　tell　us：

　　　　〃The　last　I　saw　of　them　was　the　pale　hyacinth；　Anna　Dorothea。　She

was　old　and　bent　then；　for　fifty　years　had　passed　and　she　had　outlived

them　all。　She　could　relate　the　history。　Yonder；　on　the　heath；　near　the

town　of　Wiborg；　in　Jutland；　stood　the　fine　new　house　of　the　canon。　It

was　built　of　red　brick；　with　projecting　gables。　It　was　inhabited；　for

the　smoke　curled　up　thickly　from　the　chimneys。　The　canon's　gentle　lady

and　her　beautiful　daughters　sat　in　the　bay…window；　and　looked　over　the

hawthorn　hedge　of　the　garden　towards　the　brown　heath。　What　were　they

looking　at？　Their　glances　fell　upon　a　stork's　nest；　which　was　built

upon　an　old　tumbledown　hut。　The　roof；　as　far　as　one　existed　at　all；

was　covered　with　moss　and　lichen。　The　stork's　nest　covered　the　greater

part　of　it；　and　that　alone　was　in　a　good　condition；　for　it　was　kept　in

order　by　the　stork　himself。　That　is　a　house　to　be　looked　at；　and　not

to　be　touched；〃　said　the　Wind。　〃For　the　sake　of　the　stork's　nest　it

had　been　allowed　to　remain；　although　it　is　a　blot　on　the　landscape。

They　did　not　like　to　drive　the　stork　away；　therefore　the　old　shed　was

left　standing；　and　the　poor　woman　who　dwelt　in　it　allowed　to　stay。　She

had　the　Egyptian　bird　to　thank　for　that；　or　was　it　perchance　her

reward　for　having　once　interceded　for　the　preservation　of　the　nest　of

its　black　brother　in　the　forest　of　Borreby？　At　that　time　she；　the

poor　woman；　was　a　young　child；　a　white　hyacinth　in　a　rich　garden。　She

remembered　that　time　well；　for　it　was　Anna　Dorothea。

　　　　〃'O…h；　o…h；'　she　sighed；　for　people　can　sigh　like　the　moaning　of

the　wind　among　the　reeds　and　rushes。　'O…h；　o…h；'　she　would　say；　'no

bell　sounded　at　thy　burial；　Waldemar　Daa。　The　poor　school…boys　did　not

even　sing　a　psalm　when　the　former　lord　of　Borreby　was　laid　in　the

earth　to　rest。　O…h；　everything　has　an　end；　even　misery。　Sister　Ida

became　the　wife　of　a　peasant；　that　was　the　hardest　trial　which

befell　our　father；　that　the　husband　of　his　own　daughter　should　be　a

miserable　serf；　whom　his　owner　could　place　for　punishment　on　the

wooden　horse。　I　suppose　he　is　under　the　ground　now；　and　Ida…　alas！

alas！　it　is　not　ended　yet；　miserable　that　I　am！　Kind　Heaven；　grant

me　that　I　may　die。'

　　　　〃That　was　Anna　Dorothea's　prayer　in　the　wretched　hut　that　was　left

standing　for　the　sake　of　the　stork。　I　took　pity　on　the　proudest　of　the

sisters；〃　said　the　Wind。　〃Her　courage　was　like　that　of　a　man；　and　in

man's　clothes　she　served　as　a　sailor　on　board　ship。　She　was　of　few

words；　and　of　a　dark　countenance；　but　she　did　not　know　how　to　climb；

so　I　blew　her　overboard　before　any　one　found　out　that　she　was　a　woman；

and；　in　my　opinion；　that　was　well　done；〃　said　the　Wind。

　　　　On　such　another　Easter　morning　as　that　on　which　Waldemar　Daa

imagined　he　had　discovered　the　art　of　making　gold；　I　heard　the　tones

of　a　psalm　under　the　stork's　nest；　and　within　the　crumbling　walls。

It　was　Anna　Dorothea's　last　song。　There　was　no　window　in　the　hut；　only

a　hole　in　the　wall；　and　the　sun　rose　like　a　globe　of　burnished　gold；

and　looked　through。　With　what　splendor　he　filled　that　dismal　dwelling！

Her　eyes　were　glazing；　and　her　heart　breaking；　but　so　it　would　have

been；　even　had　the　sun　not　shone　that　morning　on　Anna　Dorothea。　The

stork's　nest　had　secured　her　a　home　till　her　death。　I　sung　over　her

grave；　I　sung　at　her　father's　grave。　I　know　where　it　lies；　and　where

her　grave　is　too；　but　nobody　else　knows　it。

　　　　〃New　times　now；　all　is　changed。　The　old　high…road　is　lost　amid

cultivated　fields；　the　new　one　now　winds　along　over　covered　graves；

and　soon　the　railway　will　come；　with　its　train　of　carriages；　and

rush　over　graves　where　lie　those　whose　very　names　are　forgoten。　All

passed　away；　passed　away！

　　　　〃This　is　the　story　of　Waldemar　Daa　and　his　daughters。　Tell　it

better；　any　of　you；　if　you　know　how；〃　said　the　Wind；　and　he　rushed

away；　and　was　gone。

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　THE　END

。