a story from the sand-hills-第6部分

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clothes！〃　Sometimes；　when　such　thoughts　crossed　his　mind；　the　fiery

nature　rose　within　him；　and　he　beat　the　wall　with　his　clenched　fists。

　　　　Weeks；　months；　a　whole　year　had　gone　by；　when　Niels　the　thief；

called　also　a　horse…dealer；　was　arrested；　and　now　better　times　came；

and　it　was　seen　that　Jurgen　had　been　wrongly　accused。

　　　　On　the　afternoon　before　Jurgen's　departure　from　home；　and　before

the　murder；　Niels　the　thief；　had　met　Martin　at　a　beer…house　in　the

neighbourhood　of　Ringkjobing。　A　few　glasses　were　drank；　not　enough

to　cloud　the　brain；　but　enough　to　loosen　Martin's　tongue。　He　began

to　boast　and　to　say　that　he　had　obtained　a　house　and　intended　to

marry；　and　when　Niels　asked　him　where　he　was　going　to　get　the　money；

he　slapped　his　pocket　proudly　and　said：

　　　　〃The　money　is　here；　where　it　ought　to　be。〃

　　　　This　boast　cost　him　his　life；　for　when　he　went　home　Niels　followed

him；　and　cut　his　throat；　intending　to　rob　the　murdered　man　of　the

gold；　which　did　not　exist。

　　　　All　this　was　circumstantially　explained；　but　it　is　enough　for　us

to　know　that　Jurgen　was　set　free。　But　what　compensation　did　he　get　for

having　been　imprisoned　a　whole　year；　and　shut　out　from　all

communication　with　his　fellow　creatures？　They　told　him　he　was

fortunate　in　being　proved　innocent；　and　that　he　might　go。　The

burgomaster　gave　him　two　dollars　for　travelling　expenses；　and　many

citizens　offered　him　provisions　and　beer…　there　were　still　good

people；　they　were　not　all　hard　and　pitiless。　But　the　best　thing　of　all

was　that　the　merchant　Bronne；　of　Skjagen；　into　whose　service　Jurgen

had　proposed　entering　the　year　before；　was　just　at　that　time　on

business　in　the　town　of　Ringkjobing。　Bronne　heard　the　whole　story；

he　was　kind…hearted；　and　understood　what　Jurgen　must　have　felt　and

suffered。　Therefore　he　made　up　his　mind　to　make　it　up　to　the　poor　lad；

and　convince　him　that　there　were　still　kind　folks　in　the　world。

　　　　So　Jurgen　went　forth　from　prison　as　if　to　paradise；　to　find

freedom；　affection；　and　trust。　He　was　to　travel　this　path　now；　for

no　goblet　of　life　is　all　bitterness；　no　good　man　would　pour　out　such　a

draught　for　his　fellow…man；　and　how　should　He　do　it；　Who　is　love

personified？

　　　　〃Let　everything　be　buried　and　forgotten；〃　said　Bronne；　the

merchant。　〃Let　us　draw　a　thick　line　through　last　year：　we　will　even

burn　the　almanack。　In　two　days　we　will　start　for　dear；　friendly；

peaceful　Skjagen。　People　call　it　an　out…of…the…way　corner；　but　it　is　a

good　warm　chimney…corner；　and　its　windows　open　toward　every　part　of

the　world。〃

　　　　What　a　journey　that　was：　It　was　like　taking　fresh　breath　out　of

the　cold　dungeon　air　into　the　warm　sunshine。　The　heather　bloomed　in

pride　and　beauty；　and　the　shepherd…boy　sat　on　a　barrow　and　blew　his

pipe；　which　he　had　carved　for　himself　out　of　a　sheep　bone。　Fata

Morgana；　the　beautiful　aerial　phenomenon　of　the　wilderness；　appeared

with　hanging　gardens　and　waving　forests；　and　the　wonderful　cloud

called　〃Lokeman　driving　his　sheep〃　also　was　seen。

　　　　Up　towards　Skjagen　they　went；　through　the　land　of　the　Wendels；

whence　the　men　with　long　beards　（the　Longobardi　or　Lombards）　had

emigrated　in　the　reign　of　King　Snio；　when　all　the　children　and　old

people　were　to　have　been　killed；　till　the　noble　Dame　Gambaruk　proposed

that　the　young　people　should　emigrate。　Jurgen　knew　all　this；　he　had

some　little　knowledge；　and　although　he　did　not　know　the　land　of　the

Lombards　beyond　the　lofty　Alps；　he　had　an　idea　that　it　must　be

there；　for　in　his　boyhood　he　had　been　in　the　south；　in　Spain。　He

thought　of　the　plenteousness　of　the　southern　fruit；　of　the　red

pomegranate　flowers；　of　the　humming；　buzzing；　and　toiling　in　the　great

beehive　of　a　city　he　had　seen；　but　home　is　the　best　place　after　all；

and　Jurgen's　home　was　Denmark。

　　　　At　last　they　arrived　at　〃Vendilskaga；〃　as　Skjagen　is　called　in　old

Norwegian　and　Icelandic　writings。　At　that　time　Old　Skjagen；　with　the

eastern　and　western　town；　extended　for　miles；　with　sand　hills　and

arable　land　as　far　as　the　lighthouse　near　〃Grenen。〃　Then；　as　now；

the　houses　were　strewn　among　the　wind…raised　sand…hills…　a

wilderness　in　which　the　wind　sports　with　the　sand；　and　where　the　voice

of　the　sea…gull　and　wild　swan　strikes　harshly　on　the　ear。

　　　　In　the　south…west；　a　mile　from　〃Grenen；〃　lies　Old　Skjagen；

merchant　Bronne　dwelt　here；　and　this　was　also　to　be　Jurgen's　home

for　the　future。　The　dwelling…house　was　tarred；　and　all　the　small

out…buildings　had　been　put　together　from　pieces　of　wreck。　There　was　no

fence；　for　indeed　there　was　nothing　to　fence　in　except　the　long　rows

of　fishes　which　were　hung　upon　lines；　one　above　the　other；　to　dry　in

the　wind。　The　entire　coast　was　strewn　with　spoiled　herrings；　for　there

were　so　many　of　these　fish　that　a　net　was　scarcely　thrown　into　the　sea

before　it　was　filled。　They　were　caught　by　carloads；　and　many　of　them

were　either　thrown　back　into　the　sea　or　left　to　lie　on　the　beach。

　　　　The　old　man's　wife　and　daughter　and　his　servants　also　came　to　meet

him　with　great　rejoicing。　There　was　a　great　squeezing　of　hands；　and

talking　and　questioning。　And　the　daughter；　what　a　sweet　face　and

bright　eyes　she　had！

　　　　The　inside　of　the　house　was　comfortable　and　roomy。　Fritters；

that　a　king　would　have　looked　upon　as　a　dainty　dish；　were　placed　on

the　table；　and　there　was　wine　from　the　Skjagen　vineyard…　that　is；

the　sea；　for　there　the　grapes　come　ashore　ready　pressed　and　prepared

in　barrels　and　in　bottles。

　　　　When　the　mother　and　daughter　heard　who　Jurgen　was；　and　how

innocently　he　had　suffered；　they　looked　at　him　in　a　still　more

friendly　way；　and　pretty　Clara's　eyes　had　a　look　of　especial

interest　as　she　listened　to　his　story。　Jurgen　found　a　happy　home　in

Old　Skjagen。　It　did　his　heart　good；　for　it　had　been　sorely　tried。　He

had　drunk　the　bitter　goblet　of　love　which　softens　or　hardens　the

heart；　according　to　circumstances。　Jurgen's　heart　was　still　soft…　it

was　young；　and　therefore　it　was　a　good　thing　that　Miss　Clara　was　going

in　three　weeks'　time　to　Christiansand　in　Norway；　in　her　father's　ship；

to　visit　an　aunt　and　to　stay　there　the　whole　winter。

　　　　On　the　Sunday　before　she　went　away　they　all　went　to　church；　to　the

Holy　Communion。　The　church　was　large　and　handsome；　and　had　been

built　centuries　before　by　Scotchmen　and　Dutchmen；　it　stood　some　little

way　out　of　the　town。　It　was　rather　ruinous　certainly；　and　the　road

to　it　was　heavy；　through　deep　sand；　but　the　people　gladly　surmounted

these　difficulties　to　get　to　the　house　of　God；　to　sing　psalms　and　to

hear　the　sermon。　The　sand　had　heaped　itself　up　round　the　walls　of

the　church；　but　the　graves　were　kept　free　from　it。

　　　　It　was　the　largest　church　north　of　the　Limfjorden。　The　Virgin

Mary；　with　a　golden　crown　on　her　head　and　the　child　Jesus　in　her　arms；

stood　lifelike　on　the　altar；　the　holy　Apostles　had　been　carved　in

the　choir；　and　on　the　walls　there　were　portraits　of　the　old

burgomasters　and　councillors　of　Skjagen；　the　pulpit　was　of　carved

work。　The　sun　shone　brightly　into　the　church；　and　its　radiance　fell　on

the　polished　brass　chandelier　and　on　the　little　ship　that　hung　from

the　vaulted　roof。

　　　　Jurgen　felt　overcome　by　a　holy；　childlike　feeling；　like　that　which

possessed　him；　when；　as　a　boy；　he　stood　in　the　splendid　Spanish

cathedral。　But　here　the　feeling　was　different；　for　he　felt　conscious

of　being　one　of　the　congregation。

　　　　After　the　sermon　followed　Holy　Communion。　He　partook　of　the

bread　and　wine；　and　it　so　happened　that　he　knelt　by　the　side　of　Miss

Clara；　but　his　thoughts　were　so　fixed　upon　heaven　and　the　Holy

Sacrament　that　he　did　not　notice　his　neighbour　until　he　rose　from

his　knees；　and　then　he　saw　tears　rolling　down　her　cheeks。

　　　　She　left　Skjagen　and　went　to　Norway　two　days　later。　He　remained

behind；　and　made　himself　useful　on　the　farm　and　at　the　fishery。　He

went　out　fishing；　and　in　those　days　fish　were　more　plentiful　and

larger　than　they　are　now。　The　shoals　of　the　mackerel　glittered　in

the　dark　nights；　and　indicated　where　they　were　swimming；　the

gurnards　snarled；　and　the　crabs　gave　forth　pitiful　yells　when　they

were　chased；　for　fish　are　not　so　mute　as　people　say。

　　　　Every　Sunday　Jurgen　went　to　church；　and　when　his　eyes　rested　on

the　picture　of　the　Virgin　Mary　over　the　altar　as　he　sat　there；　they

often　glided　away　to　the　spot　where　they　had　knelt　side　by　side。

　　　　Autumn　came；　and　brought　rain　and　snow　with　it；　the　water　rose

up　right　into　the　town　of　Skjagen；　the　sand　could　not　suck　it　all

in；　one　had　to　wade　through　it　or　go　by　boat。　The　storms　threw

vessel　after　vessel　on　the　fatal　reefs；　there　were　snow…storm　and

sand…storms；　the　sand　flew　up　to　the　houses；　blocking　the　entrances；

so　that　people　had　to　creep　up　through　the　chimneys；　that　was

nothing　at　all　remarkable　here。　It　was　pleasant　and　cheerful

indoors；　where　peat　fuel　and　fragments　of　wood　from　the　wrecks

blazed　and　crackled　upon　the　hearth。　Merchant　Bronne　read　aloud；

from　an　old　chronicle；　about　Prince　Hamlet　of　Denmark；　who　had　come

over　from　England；　landed　near　Bovbjerg；　and　fought　a　battle；　close　by

Ramme　was　his　grave；　only　a　few　miles　from　the　place　where　the

eel…breeder　lived；　hundreds　of　barrow　rose　there　from　the　heath；

forming　as　it　were　an　enormous　churchyard。　Merchant　Bronne　had

himself　been　at　Hamlet's　grave；　they　spoke　about　old　times；　and　about

their　neighbours；　the　English　and　the　Scotch；　and　Jurgen　sang　the　air

of　〃The　King　of　England's　Son；〃　and　of　his　splendid　ship　and　its

outfit。



　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　〃In　the　hour　of　peril　when　most　men　fear；

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　He　clasped　the　bride　that　he　held　so　dear；

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　And　proved　himself　the　son　of　a　King；

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Of　his　courage　and　valour　let　us　sing。〃



　　　　This　verse　Jurgen　sang　with　so　much　feeling　that　his　eyes

beamed；　and　they　were　black　and　sparkling　since　his　infancy。

　　　　There　was　wealth；　comfort；　and　happiness　even　among　the　domestic

animals；　for　they　were　all　well　cared　for；　and　well　kept。　The

kitchen　looked　bright　with　its　copper　and　tin　utensils；　and　white

plates；　and　from　the　rafters　hung　hams；　beef；　and　winter　s