Lagerlöf Selma
The Treasure
CHAPTER IV
IN THE MOONLIGHT
When Herr Arne had been dead a fortnight there came some nights of clear, bright moonlight, and one evening Torarin was out with his sledge. He checked his horse time after time, as though he had difficulty in finding the way. Yet he was not driving through any trackless forest, but upon what looked like a wide and open plain, above which rose a number of rocky knolls.
The whole tract was covered with glittering white snow. It had fallen in calm weather and lay evenly, not in drifts and eddies. As far as the eye could see there was nothing but the same even plain and the same rocky knolls.
"Grim, my dog," said Torarin, "if we saw this tonight for the first time we should think we were driving over a great heath. But still we should wonder that the ground was so even and the road free from stones and ruts. What sort of tract can this be, we should say, where there are neither ditches nor fences, and how comes it that no grass or bushes stick up through the snow? And why do we see no rivers and streams, which elsewhere are wont to draw their black furrows through the white fields even in the hardest frost?"
Torarin was delighted with these fancies, and Grim too found pleasure in them. He did not move from his place on the load, but lay still and blinked.
But just as Torarin had finished speaking he drove past a lofty pole to which a broom was fastened.
"If we were strangers here, Grim, my dog," said Torarin, "we might well ask ourselves what sort of heath this was, where they set up such marks as we use at sea. 'This can never be the sea itself?' we should say at last. But we should think it utterly impossible. This that lies so firm and fast, can this be only water? And all the rocky knolls that we see so firmly united, can they be only holms and skerries parted by the rolling waves? No, we should never believe it was possible, Grim, my dog."
Torarin laughed and Grim still lay quiet and did not stir. Torarin drove on, until he rounded a high knoll. Then he gave a cry as though he had seen something strange. He put on an air of great surprise, dropped the reins and clapped his hands.
"Grim, my dog, so you would not believe this was the sea! Now you can tell what it is. Stand up, and then you will see that there is a big ship lying before us! You would not recognize the beacons, but this you cannot mistake. Now I think you will not deny that this is the sea itself we are driving over."
Torarin stayed still awhile longer as he gazed at a great vessel which lay frozen in. She looked altogether out of place as she lay with the smooth and even snowfields all about her.
But when Torarin saw a thin column of smoke rising from the vessel's poop he drove up and hailed the skipper to hear if he would buy his fish. He had but a few codfish left at the bottom of his load, since in the course of the day he had been round to all the vessels which were frozen in among the islands, and sold off his stock.
On board were the skipper and his crew, and time was heavy on their hands. They bought fish of the hawker, not because they needed it, but to have someone to talk to. When they came down on to the ice, Torarin put on an innocent air.
He began to speak of the weather. "In the memory of man there has not been such fine weather as this year," said Torarin. "For wellnigh three weeks we have had calm weather and hard frost. This is not what we are used to in the islands."
But the skipper, who lay there with his great gallias full-laden with herring barrels, and who had been caught by the ice in a bay near Marstrand just as he was ready to put to sea, gave Torarin a sharp look and said: "So then you call this fine weather?"
"What should I call it else?" said Torarin, looking as innocent as a child. "The sky is clear and calm and blue, and the night is fair as the day. Never before have I known the time when I could drive about the ice week after week. It is not often the sea freezes out here, and if once and again the ice has formed, there has always come a storm to break it up a few days after."
The skipper still looked black and glum; he made no answer to all Torarin's chat. Then Torarin began asking him why he never found his way to Marstrand. "It is no more than an hour's walk over the ice," said Torarin. But again he received no answer. Torarin could see that the man feared to leave his ship an instant, lest he might not be at hand when the ice broke up. "Seldom have I seen eyes so sick with longing," thought Torarin.
But the skipper, who had been held ice-bound among the skerries day after day, unable to hoist his sails and put to sea, had been busy the while with many thoughts, and he said to Torarin: "You are a man who travels much abroad and hears much news of all that happens: can you tell me why God has barred the way to the sea so long this year, keeping us all in captivity?"
As he said this Torarin ceased to smile, but put on an ignorant air and said: "I cannot see what you mean by that."
"Well," said the skipper, "I once lay in the harbour of Bergen a whole month, and a contrary wind blew all that time, so that no ship could come out. But on board one of the ships that lay there wind-bound was a man who had robbed churches, and he would have gone free but for the storm. Now they had time to search him out, and as soon as he had been taken ashore there came good weather and a fair wind. Now do you understand what I mean when I ask you to tell me why God keeps the gates of the sea barred?"
Torarin was silent awhile. He had a look as though he would make an earnest answer. But he turned it aside and said: "You have caught the melancholy with sitting here a prisoner among the skerries. Why do you not come in to Marstrand? I can tell you there is a merry life with hundreds of strangers in the town. They have naught else to do but drink and dance."
"How can it be they are so merry there?" asked the skipper.
"Oh," said Torarin, "there are all the seamen whose ships are frozen in like yours. There is a crowd of fishermen who had just finished their herring catch when the ice stayed them from sailing home. And there are a hundred Scottish mercenaries discharged from service, who lie here waiting for a ship to carry them home to Scotland. Do you think all these men would hang their heads and lose the chance of making merry?"
"Ay, it may well be that they can divert themselves, but, as for me, I have a mind to stay out here."
Torarin gave him a rapid glance. The skipper was a tall man and thin; his eyes were bright and clear as water, with a melancholy look in them. "To make that man merry is more than I or any other can do," thought Torarin.
Again the skipper began of his own accord to ask a question.
"These Scotsmen," he said, "are they honest folk?"
"Is it you, maybe, that are to take them over to Scotland?" asked
Torarin.
"Well," said the skipper, "I have a cargo for Edinburgh, and one of them was here but now and asked me would I take them. But I have small liking to sail with such wild companions aboard and I asked for time to think on it. Have you heard aught of them? Think you I may venture to take them?"
"I have heard no more of them but that they are brave men. I doubt not but you may safely take them."
But no sooner had Torarin said this than his dog rose from the sledge, threw his nose in the air, and began to howl.
Torarin broke off his praises of the Scotsmen at once. "What ails you now, Grim, my dog?" he said. "Do you think I stay here too long, wasting the time in talk?"
He made ready to drive off. "Well, God be with you all!" he cried.
Torarin drove in to Marstrand by the narrow channel between Klovero and Koo. When he had come within sight of the town, he noticed that he was not alone on the ice.
In the bright moonlight he saw a tall man of proud bearing walking in the snow. He could see that he wore a plumed hat and rich clothes with ample puffs. "Hallo!" said Torarin to himself; "there goes Sir Archie, the leader of the Scots, who has been out this evening to bespeak a passage to Scotland."
Torarin was so near to the man that he drove into the long shadow that followed him. His horse's hoofs were just touching the shadow of the hat plumes.
"Grim," said Torarin, "shall we ask if he will drive with us to
Marstrand?"
The dog began to bristle up at once, but Torarin laid his hand upon his back. "Be quiet, Grim, my dog! I can see that you have no love for the Scotsmen."
Sir Archie had not noticed that any one was so close to him. He walked on without looking round. Torarin turned very quietly to one side in order to pass him.
But at that moment Torarin saw behind the Scottish gallant something that looked like another shadow. He saw something long and thin and gray, which floated over the white surface without leaving footprints in the snow or making it crunch.
The Scotsman advanced with long and rapid strides, looking neither to the right hand nor to the left. But the gray shadow glided on behind him, so near that it seemed as though it would whisper something in his ear.
Torarin drove slowly on till he came abreast of them. Then he could see the Scotsman's face in the bright moonlight. He walked with a frown on his brow and seemed vexed, as though full of thoughts that displeased him.
Just as Torarin drove past, he turned about and looked behind him as though aware of someone following.
Torarin saw plainly that behind Sir Archie stole a young maid in a long gray garment, but Sir Archie did not see her. When he turned his head she stood motionless, and Sir Archie's own shadow fell upon her, dark and broad, and hid her.
Sir Archie turned again at once and pursued his way, and again the maiden hurried forward and made as though she would whisper in his ear.
But when Torarin saw this his terror was more than he could bear. He cried aloud and whipped up his horse, so that it brought him at full gallop and dripping with sweat to the door of his cabin.
CHAPTER V
HAUNTED
The town with all its houses and buildings stood upon that side of Marstrand island which looked to landward and was protected by a wreath of holms and islets. There people swarmed in its streets and alleys; there lay the harbour, full of ships and boats, the quays, with folk busy gutting and salting fish; there lay the church and churchyard, the market and town hall, and there stood many a lofty tree and waved its green branches in summer time.
But upon that half of Marstrand island which looked westward to the sea, unguarded by isles or skerries, there was nothing but bare and barren rocks and ragged headlands thrust out into the waves. Heather there was in brown tufts and prickly thorn bushes, holes of the otter and the fox, but never a path, never a house or any sign of man.
Torarin's cabin stood high up on the ridge of the island, so that it had the town on one side and the wilderness on the other. And when Elsalill opened her door she came out upon broad, naked slabs of rock, from which she had a wide view to the westward, even to the dark horizon of the open sea.
All the seamen and fishermen who lay icebound at Marstrand used to pass Torarin's cabin to climb the rocks and look for any sign of the ice parting in the coves and sounds.
Elsalill stood many a time at the cottage door and followed with her eyes the men who mounted the ridge. She was sick at heart from the great sorrow that had befallen her, and she said to herself: "I think everyone is happy who has something to look for. But I have nothing in the wide world on which to fix my hopes."
One evening Elsalill saw a tall man, who wore a broad-brimmed hat with a great feather, standing upon the rocks and gazing westward over the sea like all the others.
And Elsalill knew at once that the man was Sir Archie, the leader of the Scots, who had talked with her on the quay.
As he passed the cabin on his way home to the town, Elsalill was still standing in the doorway, and she was weeping.
"Why do you weep?" he asked, stopping before her.
"I weep because I have nothing to long for," said Elsalill. "When I saw you standing upon the rocks and looking out over the sea, I thought: 'He has surely a home beyond the water, and there he is going.'"
Then Sir Archie's heart was softened, and it made him say: "It is many a year since any spoke to me of my home. God knows how it fares with my father's house. I left it when I was seventeen to serve in the wars abroad."
On saying this Sir Archie entered the cottage with Elsalill and began to talk to her of his home.
And Elsalill sat and listened to Sir Archie, who spoke both long and well. Each word that came from his lips made her feel happy. But when the time drew on for Sir Archie to go, he asked if he might kiss her.
Then Elsalill said No, and would have slipped out of the door, but
Sir Archie stood in her way and would have made her kiss him.
At that moment the door of the cottage opened, and its mistress came in in great haste.
Then Sir Archie drew back from Elsalill. He simply gave her his hand in farewell and hurried away.
But Torarin's mother said to Elsalill: "It was well that you sent for me, for it is not fitting for a maid to sit alone in the house with such a man as Sir Archie. You know full well that a soldier of fortune has neither honour nor conscience."
"Did I send for you?" asked Elsalill, astonished.
"Yes," answered the old woman. "As I stood at work on the quay there came a little maid I had never seen before, and brought me word that you begged me to go home."
"How did this maid look?" asked Elsalill.
"I heeded her not so closely that I can tell you how she looked," said the old woman. "But one thing I marked; she went so lightly upon the snow that not a sound was heard."
When Elsalill heard this she turned very pale and said: "Then it must have been an angel from heaven who brought you the message and led you home."
II
Another time Sir Archie sat in Torarin's cabin and talked with
Elsalill.
There was no one beside them; they talked gaily together and were very cheerful.
Sir Archie was telling Elsalill that she must go home with him to Scotland. There he would build her a castle and make her a fine lady. He told her she should have a hundred serving-maids to wait upon her, and she should dance at the court of the King.
Elsalill sat silently listening to every word Sir Archie said to her, and she believed them all. And Sir Archie thought that never had he met a damsel so easy to beguile as Elsalill.
Suddenly Sir Archie ceased speaking and looked down at his left hand.
"What is it, Sir Archie? Why do you say no more?" asked Elsalill.
Sir Archie opened and closed his hand convulsively. He turned it this way and that.
"What is it, Sir Archie?" asked Elsalill. "Does your hand pain you on a sudden?"
Then Sir Archie turned to Elsalill with a startled face and said: "Do you see this hair, Elsalill, that is wound about my hand? Do you see this lock of fair hair?"
When he began to speak the girl saw nothing, but ere he had finished she saw a coil of fine, fair hair wind itself twice about Sir Archie's hand.
And Elsalill sprang up in terror and cried out: "Sir Archie, whose hair is it that is bound about your hand?"
Sir Archie looked at her in confusion, not knowing what to say. "It is real hair, Elsalill, I can feel it. It lies soft and cool about my hand. But whence did it come?"
The maid sat staring at his hand, and it seemed that her eyes would fall out of her head.
"So was it that my foster sister's hair was wound about the hand of him who murdered her," she said.
But now Sir Archie burst into a laugh. He quickly drew back his hand.
"Why," said he, "you and I, Elsalill, we are frightening ourselves like little children. It was nothing more than a bright sunbeam falling through the window."
But the girl fell to weeping and said: "Now methinks I am crouching again by the stove and I can see the murderers at their work. Ah, but I hoped to the last they would not find my dear foster sister, but then one of them came and plucked her from the wall, and when she sought to escape he twined her hair about his hand and held her fast. And she fell on her knees before him and said: 'Have pity on my youth! Spare my life, let me live long enough to know why I have come into the world! I have done you no ill, why would you kill me? Why would you deny me my life?' But he paid no heed to her words and killed her."
While Elsalill said this Sir Archie stood with a frown on his brow and turned his eyes away.
"Ah, if I might one day meet that man!" said Elsalill. She stood before Sir Archie with clenched fists.
"You cannot meet the man," said Sir Archie. "He is dead."
But the maid threw herself upon the bench and sobbed. "Sir Archie, Sir Archie, why have you brought the dead into my thoughts? Now I must weep all evening and all night. Leave me, Sir Archie, for now I have no thought for any but the dead. Now I can only think upon my foster sister and how dear she was to me."
And Sir Archie had no power to console her, but was banished by her tears and wailing and went back to his companions.
III
Sir Archie could not understand why his mind was always so full of heavy thoughts. He could never escape them, whether he drank with his companions, or whether he sat in talk with Elsalill. If he danced all night at the wharves they were still with him, and if he walked far and wide over the frozen sea, they followed him there.
"Why am I ever forced to remember what I would fain forget?" Sir Archie asked himself. "It is as though someone were always stealing behind me and whispering in my ear.
"It is as though someone were weaving a net about me," said Sir
Archie, "to catch all my own thoughts and leave me none but this.
I cannot see the pursuer who casts the net, but I can hear his step as he comes stealing after me."
"It is as though a painter went before me and painted the same picture wherever my eyes may rest," said Sir Archie. "Whether I look to heaven or to earth I see naught else but this one thing."
"It is as though a mason sat within my heart and chiselled out the same heavy care," said Sir Archie. "I cannot see this mason, but day and night I can hear the blows of his mallet as he hammers at my heart. 'Heart of stone, heart of stone,' he says, 'now you shall yield. Now I shall hammer into you a lasting care.'"
Sir Archie had two friends, Sir Philip and Sir Reginald, who followed him wherever he went. They were grieved that he was always cast down and that nothing could avail to cheer him.
"What is it that ails you?" they would say. "What makes your eyes burn so, and why are your cheeks so pale?"
Sir Archie would not tell them what it was that tormented him. He thought: "What would my comrades say of me if they knew I yielded to these unmanly thoughts? They would no longer obey me if they found out that I was racked with remorse for a deed there was no avoiding."
As they continued to press him, he said at last, to throw them off
the scent: "Fortune is playing me strange tricks in these days.
There is a girl I have a mind to win, but I cannot come at her.
Something always stands in my way."
"Maybe the maiden does not love you?" said Sir Reginald.
"I surely think her heart is disposed toward me," said Sir Archie; "but there is something watching over her, so that I cannot win her."
Then Sir Reginald and Sir Philip began to laugh and said: "Never fear, we'll get you the girl."
That evening Elsalill was walking alone up the lane, coming from her work. She was tired and thought to herself: "This is a hard life and I find no joy in it. It sickens me to stand all day in the reek of fish. It sickens me to hear the other women laugh and jest in their rude voices. It sickens me to see the hungry gulls fly above the tables trying to snatch the fish out of my hands. Oh, that someone would come and take me away from here! I would follow him to the world's end."
When Elsalill had reached the darkest part of the lane, Sir
Reginald and Sir Philip came out of the shadow and greeted her.
"Mistress Elsalill," they said, "we have a message for you from Sir Archie. He is lying sick at the inn. He longs to speak with you and begs you to accompany us home."
Elsalill began to fear that Sir Archie might be grievously sick, and she turned at once and went with the two Scottish gallants who were to bring her to him.
Sir Philip and Sir Reginald walked one on each side of her. They smiled at one another and thought that nothing could be easier than to delude Elsalill.
Elsalill was in great haste; she almost ran down the lane. Sir Philip and Sir Reginald had to take long strides to keep up with her.
But as Elsalill was making such haste to reach the inn, something began to roll before her feet. It seemed to have been thrown down in front of her, and she nearly stumbled over it.
"What can it be that rolls on and on before my feet?" thought Elsalill. "It must be a stone that I have kicked from the ground and sent rolling down the hill."
She was in such a hurry to reach Sir Archie that she did not like being hindered by the thing that rolled close before her feet. She kicked it aside, but it came back at once and rolled before her down the lane.
Elsalill heard it ring like silver when she kicked it away, and she saw that it was bright and shining.
"It is no common stone," she thought. "I believe it is a coin of silver." But she was in such haste to reach Sir Archie that she thought she had no time to pick it up.
But again and again it rolled before her feet, and she thought: "You will go on the faster if you stoop down and pick it up. You can throw it far away if it is nothing."
She stooped down and picked it up. It was a big silver coin and it shone white in her hand.
"What is it that you have found in the street, mistress?" asked
Sir Reginald. "It shines so white in the moonlight."
At that moment they were passing one of the great storehouses, where foreign fisher-folk lodged while they lay at Marstrand. Before the entrance hung a lantern, which threw a feeble light upon the street.
"Let us see what you have found, mistress," said Sir Philip, standing under the light.
Elsalill held up the coin to the lantern, and hardly had she cast eye upon it when she cried out: "This is Herr Arne's money! I know it well. This is Herr Arne's money!"
"What's that you say, mistress?" asked Sir Reginald. "What makes you say it is Herr Arne's money?"
"I know the coin," said Elsalill. "I have often seen it in Herr
Arne's hand. Yes, it is surely Herr Arne's money."
"Shout not so loudly, mistress!" said Sir Philip. "People run here already to know the cause of this outcry."
But Elsalill paid no heed to Sir Philip. She saw that the door of the warehouse stood open. A fire blazed in the midst of the floor and round about it sat a number of men conversing quietly and at leisure.
Elsalill hastened in to them, holding the coin aloft. "Listen to me, every man!" she cried. "Now I know that Herr Arne's murderers are alive. Look here! I have found one of Herr Arne's coins."
All the men turned toward her. She saw that Torarin the fish hawker sat among them.
"What is that you tell us so noisily, my girl?" Torarin asked.
