Читать книгу Ivar: or, The Skjuts-Boy - Emilie Flygare-Carlén - Страница 9

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On a bright sunny day in October, Ivar began his wanderings, and towards noon had arrived at the spot where the heights of Quistrum slope down gradually into the bewitching valley, which, divided by a river, offers to the eye a rich, varied, and gay picture of one of the most magnificent works of nature. Ivar descended, and at each step his bosom swelled with glowing feelings, which he could scarcely describe himself. It was the sight of the magnificent works of the Creator, which had such an effect upon the yet unpolished mind of the boy. This could be perceived by the eagerness with which his drinking eye rested upon every object.

Arriving at the bridge which spanned the river, he rested a moment, leaning over the railing so that he might better watch the tall birchen trees, which were mirrored on the surface of the quiet water near the shore, while in the centre of the stream the water rushed with foaming violence; and when he upraised his eyes, he suffered them to glide along the shadowy mountain tops, which, like protecting bulwarks, were towering beside the meandering road, which in its turn, added gaiety to the picture, by the continual walking and driving of men and horses.

To the left of the side by which Ivar came, the excellent and cleanly tavern of Quistrum stood, and still stands, the often much longed-for place of repose for the weary traveller. To that place Ivar looked with wistful eye, after he had gazed sufficiently at the beautiful scenery with which he was surrounded, which, the more he gazed upon it, seemed to gain new beauties.

"This must be a comfortable place to live," thought Ivar; and stepping to the left, he passed through the court-yard and entered the kitchen. Here, however, he stayed his progress, mute with astonishment, for a scene here presented itself, that made a deep impression on his already excited imagination, and which, even after the most manifold adventures of many future years, never vanished from his memory.

Near the hearth stood a slender woman, with a child in her arms, and stirred the contents of a milk-pot with a spoon. On her small hand, the skin of which seemed to Ivar to be whiter even than the silver foam of the river, glittered precious rings, the bright many-coloured gems of which reflected the light of the crackling fire with redoubled splendour. When the fire streamed up, it threw its reddish glare upon a pale countenance, that was overshadowed by a pale blueness beneath her mild-appearing eyes. The stranger was clothed in a black velvet dress, the shape of which appeared even to Ivar, who was but little acquainted with the fashion of ladies' clothing, to be a pattern made in foreign taste. Its cape was bordered with a silver-grey fringe, and fastened in front with a golden clasp, from which a golden chain was suspended, which the child held in his little hand, and mechanically played with it. The other extremity of the chain was attached to her girdle by a large hook, and retained the watch in its position. But what lent a peculiar charm to the whole scene, in Ivar's eyes, was a little shaggy yellow dog that was lying at the lady's feet, playing with the fringe of her velvet dress.

Our hero could not decide whether the lady was beautiful or not, although he looked long and earnestly at her pale face, which seemed wet with tears. But this much he knew certainly, and felt in his innermost heart, that, although she was entirely unknown to him, he would have risked his life to render her a service. For in her deep eyes there was something that exerted a much more powerful influence over him than a black stormy night, the delight of his heart.

Of the child, that was scarcely a year and a half old, he saw nothing but the little white neck, over which its silken curls were falling from under the blue silk bonnet. The charming picture, however, soon vanished, as the child was crying with pain, and when its mother turned round to unlock the door, the face of the infant became visible, and Ivar observed that the cause of its complaint was an inflamed and swollen eye, from which the protecting bandage had partly fallen.

"Do you not recover your vision, Ivar?" said a young, red-cheeked servant-girl to him, who was tinkling gaily a mortar and pestle, and teased Ivar, because he was still looking at the door through which the strange lady had disappeared with her child.

"Ah! yes—I should have said good-day. How do you do, Liesgreta? Your house is as full of travellers as ever I before saw."

"Yes, and we are not sorry for it. But how are all the folks at Swarteborg? They say here, that next Sunday the banns of Britte and Skagn, John and Gertrude, will be proclaimed. Do you know anything about it?"

"But who was the lady that was standing near the fire here? Do you know her?"

"Alas! that is a German lady, who is travelling after an officer, who is said to have married her in foreign countries. She is now desirous of searching for him in Norway. But I think she has been deceived, as many others have been before her. Yes, yes, our people could not stay always in that country."

"The poor, poor woman!" said Ivar, with unmistakable emotion. "I am very sorry about her."

"I would not say so myself," said Liesgreta, throwing back her little head. "What have the nasty German girls to do with our soldiers anyhow? It serves them right if they have been fooled. Why did they seduce our boys? as if there were not enough young ladies, mademoiselles, maidens, and lasses in Sweden. Yes, God be praised, we are still as pretty as others, and I would not advise Nicholas Kron, my lover, to meddle with those pale-nosed Germans, who may have cast sheep's-eyes at him." With these words Greta pounded the pestle in the mortar with such force that the cinnamon flew in every direction.

"Have you not yet spoken to Nicholas since he has returned?" inquired Ivar.

"No; don't you know that they had to march all together, to Norway; but now we shall have peace, as I have been informed to a certainty by a courier officer who passed through here a few days ago, and then it will become otherwise with Nicholas, that I will promise. If I marry him next spring, as we agreed last spring, and he is not obliged to the wars again, he must leave off gazing at other women. But do you not wish to eat something? Our lady has gone to the city, and for that reason I have the keys to-day."

Ivar accepted her invitation, advanced to the kitchen-table, and took hold of what Liesgreta's hospitality had placed before him. He had not so much of an appetite as he thought he had during his walk from the bridge to the house, for it was utterly impossible for him to cease thinking of the strange lady, and the child with the swollen eyebrow and black bandage: even the little dog he could not forget. He would have worked, God knows how much, to have owned such a treasure. In the meantime Ivar was obliged, after a short consultation with Liesgreta, to continue his journey. When he arrived in the neighbourhood of Uddevalla it was quite dark; but, without searching for a tavern, he went, without delay, to the house of the tanner, Brun, which was located at the other extremity of the town.

Ivar was fortunate enough to find the tanner at home, and after he had waited a short time, he was admitted into the room, where Master Brun was in the custom of smoking his evening pipe.

Not without a slightly-beating heart, our hero undertook to open the first business with which he had ever been intrusted, but everything he saw upon his entrance filled him with courage and confidence, as it was almost impossible for him to be otherwise, as he was by nature a courageous youth.

In the corner of a massive brown-covered sofa, sat Master Brun, with a pipe in his mouth, taking now and then a draught from a pewter mug filled with beer, that stood on a table by his side.

Directly opposite him stood a large bedstead, with yellow checkered curtains, from the interior of which was suspended a strong rope striped with red and yellow, with a huge tassel attached, for the better convenience of those who occupied it, to raise themselves. The wall near the bed was ornamented with a blue velvet cushion, upon which hung Master Brun's great silver watch, with a huge chain ornamented with enormous seals, and on both sides, conspicuously placed, hung two silhouettes of himself and wife, cut out in prepared black silk, and pasted on sheepskin, which might have been white in former times. On the top of the high bed, richly filled with feathers, a fat grey cat was lying, stretched out on the green camelet quilt, in harmless slumber, and on the other side Mrs. Brun's half-finished stocking of the same colour as the cat. If one will imagine, in addition to the above, a cupboard, through the half-open door of which, a row of shining silver spoons, and a mass of linen were visible, little tables placed in each corner, with china of all colours arranged upon them, and besides these, a shelf in one corner, whose mysterious curtain of grey canvas gave reason for the supposition that it was a hidden sanctuary, then one will have the complete room before him.

There were, in fact, neither new nor peculiarly neat things in the above room. But everything looked so homely and comfortable, that it is difficult to describe them by words, and this comfort was still heightened by a bright, crackling fire, which illumined objects animate and inanimate with its cheering rays. The whole belonged, as a matter of course, to Master Brun himself, who did not cut a poor figure, in his brown, every-day jacket, his red cap, cocked on one ear, and looking very gay and friendly. That he was a very kind and cheerful man one could easily perceive in the tone with which he addressed Ivar, as he fixed his little twinkling grey eyes upon him.

"What is your desire, my boy?"

"I came only to inquire whether the gentleman will buy a horse-hide?"

"Ahem! I am not just now in want of one; I am sufficiently supplied with them. It depends, merely, however, on how much the price is."

"Alas! should I ask as much for my white pony's hide as it is dear to me, it might come very high; but I will take whatever I can get for it."

"As to that, you are perfectly right, because it makes no difference to me whether it is the hide of a white or a black horse."

"Yes, yes, that may be so, but I certainly shall have something for it, I loved the pony so dearly, and if father had not wanted the money so bad, I would have worked myself to death to prevent the pony's hide from being taken off."

"Well, that is noble of you that you are so careful of your father's interest. You say you are very poor?"

"Oh, yes, very poor," replied Ivar, with a half suppressed sigh.

"Listen, step closer to me, my son," said the tanner now, in a still milder tone, which seemed to indicate that a new light had flashed through his beer-laden head, "step nearer—where have you come from?"

"From the forest of Swarteborg."

"And your name?"

"Ivar Borgenstierna."

"Ah! I know,—I know you now; first nobleman, afterward peasant, and lastly cottager. You have the appearance, however, that you are a noble and clever boy; perhaps I can do something for you, if you are willing to learn the trade of a tanner. I am just in want of an honest, faithful boy, because the boy that I have had until now has served his time, and become a journeyman. Several others have already called upon me, but I have not found any yet that I liked."

Ivar was astonished at this proposal, but said he would reflect concerning the matter.

"Yes, do so; but have you a resting-place for to-night?" inquired the tanner.

"I have no acquaintances upon whom I can call, but I shall endeavour to find some place."

"That is not necessary; you may remain here with us; step into the work-room, and tell the boys to prepare a place for you, and as to your supper, that shall not be forgotten." Heartily grateful for the unexpected luck which had happened to him, Ivar went to the designated place, and found his companions there such gay and clever boys, that he would have considered himself happy to remain all his life with them; and aside from that, he might calculate upon good board, and upon a small but nevertheless to him valuable salary, by which he could support his parents, after his term of apprenticeship had expired. His heart beat more joyously, and the thought of the majestic storms in the dark forest of Swarteborg retreated more and more into the background, especially as his faithful friend and comrade was no longer living, and with him all hope of earnings by skjut, and upon hand-money had vanished. In short, after he had weighed the matter in his mind over and over, the scales fell decidedly in favour of the tanner, and when Ivar was asked in the morning for his decision, he asked for eight days' grace, to talk the matter over with his parents, and to have his clothes put in proper order.

Master Brun thought that the boy's desire was a proper one, and willingly consented to it, as he had taken a fancy to him. He paid him for his hide, and promised him that for the future, Ivar should be satisfied, if he would only conduct himself properly.

With a lighter heart and gayer feelings than he had had for a long time, Ivar left Uddevalla in the afternoon; but as he had an acquaintance in Herrstod he remained there over night, and did not arrive at Quistrum until the next morning, between nine and ten o'clock. During the last quarter of an hour, the thought of the strange lady, her child, and her little long-haired yellow dog, came into his mind.

"I should like to know where they are now," he thought, and almost jumped with joy, when, upon his entrance into the court-yard of the tavern at Quistrum, he saw her before him, as she was just about ascending into a cart with her child, which cart did not seem fit to accommodate such a tender lady. But when a little boy, to all appearance, not over seven or eight years old, stepped up to take the reins from the hands of the wagon-master, Ivar had the pleasure of hearing her sweet voice, as she inquired in broken, but easily to be understood Swedish, whether a more reliable driver could be obtained. "Pshaw! with that boy you will have no trouble; he has driven a great deal," replied the wagon-master, with an arrogance which he thought he had a right to use against every unattended female.

"O God!" sighed the lady, and wrapped the cloak around the crying infant. "What shall I do? Have compassion, and let some one else drive. I dare not trust myself and child with such an inexperienced boy."

The wagon-master laughed, in that stupid and rough manner which is often the case with people of his class in society, put his slouched cap over his ear, and said, that she might as well submit, as it could not be otherwise at any rate.

"Where are you going?" inquired Ivar, advancing nearer the little skjuts-boy.

"To Swarteborg," replied the boy, endeavouring to incase his big hands in his gloves, to enable him to grasp the reins more firmly. At this moment Ivar advanced modestly, but with the assurance of a man who is about offering consolation, to the strange lady, and said, more devoutly than he had ever before done to any person, "I am going to Swarteborg; it is my home; if you will permit me to drive you, I am good for any accident that might happen, which depends upon the driver."

"Accept my thanks, noble boy, I will remunerate your kindness as much as I am able," said she, with friendly emotion, and the look with which she accompanied the words was more valuable to Ivar than all.

Ivar advised the lady to walk up the hill on foot; and with the child in her arms, preceded by her dog, she began the difficult ascent. But before she had half completed the distance, she felt that her powers would not uphold her farther. As soon as Ivar saw this, he bade the boy to lead the horse up the hill, and offered to carry the child. Without objection the lady confided the little innocent to his care. While he pressed the child tenderly to his bosom, all kind of singular thoughts arose within him. It appeared to him something so consoling, so secretly sweet, to have such an innocent being under his protection, he could not refrain from pressing his lips on the child's white cheeks, yet there could not be found in the whole world two beings so utterly dissimilar as the white pony and the little angel he bore in his arms. Nevertheless his present feelings were much similar to those which he had formerly entertained for his favourite.

Ivar's heart was actually made for love. He felt the want of taking care of some one. It was for these reasons that he was now so happy, and wished that his way to Swarteborg was twice as long as it really was.

When he had reached the summit of the hill, the lady entered the cart, took her child in her arms, wrapped the cloak carefully around it, and closed her eyes, either for protection from the wind, which drove up dense clouds of dust, or to suppress her tears.

As the cart was too small for all of them, the skjuts-boy was prevailed upon, for a small sum of money, to walk, and Ivar conducted the carriage. That he might not crowd the tender lady, he squeezed himself as closely as possible to the side of the cart, and as soon as everything was arranged, and the dog stowed away under Ivar's feet, they continued their journey.

During the whole ride, the lady did not speak, except once, when Ivar praised the beautiful dog, she said that it had been offered for sale, by some one who was in great want, and was obliged to sell it.

"Alas! that was too bad," said Ivar, and felt the utmost compassion for the one, although unknown to him, who had shared the same fate with him. He thought of his pony, and kept a continued silence, yet could not refrain from bending down occasionally and patting the little dog.

When the cart stopped at the dirty and disgusting-looking tavern at Swarteborg, a visible tremor affected the young lady. Her look met Ivar's eyes, with that same unspeakable expression of gratitude that she had given him when he offered his services.

"Are you now obliged to leave me?" said she, sorrowfully. Ivar was transported with inward joy at the kind words, and when he heard that it was the landlord's turn to furnish the horses, he offered to drive instead of the servant. He would only run home quickly, and inform his parents, and return in a moment.

"Do not stay away too long," said the stranger, entreatingly, and with a look of disgust entered the smoky and dirty room.

Ivar almost flew over the well-known forest path, hardly taking time to bestow a friendly look upon his pony's grave. He did not remain longer in the house than was necessary to hand over the money which he had received for the hide, and to give a short account of the success of his mission. Brun's proposition he submitted to the consideration of his parents during his absence, and entreated them not to be uneasy even should he be absent a little longer, for it would be a never-to-be-forgiven sin if he should desert the lady, and it might be possible that she would ask him to go farther with her than Rabbalshede.

And it happened so, at every new change of the horses, the strange lady fixed her uneasy eye with an entreating expression upon him, so that he had not the heart to say no, when she asked him if he would not have the kindness to accompany her somewhat farther.

The nearer they approached the Norwegian frontier, the higher rose the soft flame upon her cheeks, and so much brighter shone the glance of her eye.

At Hodel, Ivar was about taking leave of her, but with a few words, she persuaded him to accompany her to Svinesund, and thus Ivar accompanied her faithfully to the Norwegian frontier, where she hoped to find the end of her wearisome journey. But now they had to take leave of each other, for if Ivar remained longer absent, he lost his place in Mr. Brun's tannery. Aside from this, it was only a few miles to Friedrikshall—and, in consequence of the convention of Moss, that fortress was now in the hands of the Swedes, and the lady hoped, at least, if she did not meet her husband, she would find some one who would give her certain information of him.

"But how shall I reward you for your trouble?" said the lady, with emotion, when they took leave of each other.

"I have accompanied you for my own pleasure only, not for money," said Ivar, and the tone in which he spoke left no room for one to mistake his opinion.

"What! you will not accept any pay?" said she, mournfully, and the tears stole through her long eyelashes. "How shall I reward you, then, for what you have done?"

"You do not owe me the least," answered Ivar; "I followed you of my own free accord; but if you——" he here abruptly ceased, and blushed deeply.

"If I what? Speak it out, if you wish anything."

"Yes, I have one wish, but——"

"Well, say it," said she, impatiently.

"I should like to have that pretty little dog, I have taken such a fancy for him."

"Very well, I like him also, although I have not owned him long; but you deserve that I should give you something that I also value. Take him, and sometimes remember the stranger to whom you have rendered so great a service."

With a shout of joy, Ivar accepted the kind gift, and when he offered his hand in farewell to the lady, she reached the child to him, and let fall from her tiny hand a knit purse, containing several pieces of gold, into Ivar's hand, and said: "This is given from my daughter, for the purpose of supporting her companion, Diana, whom she now presents to you."

A natural tender feeling caused Ivar to accept the gift which was thus presented him. With deep sadness, but nevertheless with a sense of pride, that he had acted more nobly to the lady than the courier had acted toward him, with a hesitating step he left those whom he had protected. Long after he arrived at the Swedish side, he directed his eyes once more towards Norway, and prayed silently for the deeply-grieved woman.

At last he took his travelling companion, Diana, under his arm, and continued his way toward his home.