 Sektion 12 av historien av Justa Berling. Det är en LibriVox-rekord. LibriVox-rekorden är i den publiska domen. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Reading by Lars Rolander. The story of Justa Berling by Selma Lagerlöf Translated from the Swedish by Pauline Bancroft Flack. Chapter 10 The Zhang Countess The Zhang Countess sleeps till 10 o'clock in the morning and wants fresh bread on the breakfast table every day. The Zhang Countess embroiders and reads poetry. She knows nothing of weaving and cooking. The Zhang Countess is spoiled. But the Zhang Countess is gay and lets her joyousness shine on all and everything. One is so glad to forgive her the long morning sleep and the fresh bread, for she squanders kindness on the poor and is friendly to everyone. The Zhang Countess' father is a Swedish nobleman who has lived in Italy all his life, retained there by the loveliness of the land and by one of that lovely land's beautiful daughters. When Count Henrik Donut travelled in Italy he had been received in this noblemans house made the acquaintance of his daughters, married one of them and brought her with him to Sweden. She who had always spoken Swedish and had been brought up to love everything Swedish is happy in the land of the bear. She worlds so merrily in the long dance of pleasure on Leuvens shores that one could well believe she had always lived there. Little she understands what it means to be a Countess. There is no state, no stiffness, no condescending dignity in that young joyous creature. It was the old men who liked the Zhang Countess best. It was wonderful what a success she had with old men. When they had seen her at a ball one could be sure that all of them, the judge at Muncherud and the clergyman at Breux and Melchior Sinclair and the captain at Barria would tell their wives in the greatest confidence that if they had met the young Countess 30 or 40 years ago. Yes, then she was not born, say the old ladies. And the next time they meet they joke with the young Countess because she wins the old men's hearts from them. The old ladies look at her with a certain anxiety. They remember so well Countess Martha. She had been just as joyous and good and beloved and she first came to Bari and she had become a vain and pleasure seeking coquette who never could think of anything but her amusements. If she only had a husband who could keep her at work, say the old ladies, if she only could learn to weave for weaving was a consolation for everything. It swallowed up all other interests and had been the saving of many a woman. The young Countess wants to be a good housekeeper. She knows nothing better than as a happy wife to live in a comfortable home and she often comes at balls and sits down beside the old people. Henrik wants me to learn to be a capable housekeeper, she says, just as his mother is. Teach me how to weave. Then the old people he was sigh. First over Count Henrik who can think that his mother was a good housekeeper and then over the difficulty of initiating this young ignorant creature in such a complicated thing. It was enough to speak to her of heddles and harnesses and warps and wolves, a term used in weaving to make her head spin. No one who sees the young Countess can help wondering why she married stupid Count Henrik. It is a pity for him who is stupid wherever he may be and it is the greatest pity for him who is stupid and lives in Wärmland. There are already many stories of Count Henrik's stupidity and he is only little over 20 years old. They tell how he entertained Anna Schoenhoek on a slaying party a few years ago. You are very pretty Anna, he said. How you talk Henrik? You are the prettiest girl in the whole of Wärmland that I certainly am not. The prettiest in the slaying party at any rate. Alas Henrik, I am not that either. Well, you are the prettiest in the sledge that you can't deny her. No, that she could not. For Count Henrik is no beauty. He is as ugly as he is stupid. I say of him that the head on the top of his thin neck has descended in the family for a couple of hundred years. That is why the brain is so worn out in the last air. It is perfectly plain that he has no head of his own, they say. He has borrowed his father's. He does not dare to bend it. He is afraid of losing it. He is already yellow and wrinkled. The head has been in use with both his father and grandfather. Why should the air otherwise be so thin and the lips so bloodless and the chin so pointed? He always has scoffers about him who encourage him to say stupid things which they save up, circulate and add to. It is lucky for him that he does not notice it. He is solemn and dignified in everything he does. He moves formally. He holds himself straight. He never turns his head without turning his whole body. He had been at Munkerud on a visit to the judge a few years ago. He had come riding with high hat, yellow breeches and polished boots and had sat stiff and proud in the saddle. When he arrived everything went well. But when he was to ride away again it so happened that one of the low hanging branches of a birch tree knocked off his hat. He got off, put on his hat and rode again under the same branch. His hat was again knocked off. This was repeated four times. The judge at last went out to him and said if you should ride on one side of the branch the next time. The fifth time he got safely by. But still the young count just cared for him in spite of his old man's head. She of course did not know that he was crowned with such a halo of stupidity in his own country when she saw him in Rome. There there had been something of the glory of youth about him and they had come together under such romantic circumstances. You ought to hear the Countess tell how Count Henrik had to carry her off. The priests and the cardinals had been wild with rage that she wished to give up her mother's religion and become a Protestant. The whole people had been in uproar. Her father's palace was busy. Henrik was pursued by bandits. Her mother and sisters implored her to give up the marriage. But her father was furious that that Italian rubble should prevent him from giving his daughter to whomsoever he might wish. He commanded Count Henrik to carry her off and so as it was impossible for them to be married at home without it's being discovered. Henrik and she stole out by side streets and all sorts of dark Alice to the Swedish consulate. And when she had aburred the Catholic faith and become a Protestant, they were immediately married and sent north in a swift traveling carriage. There was no time for bands you see. It was quite impossible, the young Countess used to say. And of course it was gloomy to be married at a consulate and not in one of the beautiful churches. But if we had not, Henrik would have had to do without me. Everyone is so impetuous down there. Both papa and mama and the cardinals and the priests are all so impetuous. That was why everything had to be done so secretly. And if the people had seen us steal out of the house they would certainly have killed us both. Only to save my soul. Henrik was of course already lost. The young Countess loves her husband ever since they have come home to borrow and live a quieter life. She loves him in the glory of the old name and the famous ancestors. She likes to see how her presence softens the stiffness of his manner and to hear how his voice grows tender when he speaks to her. And besides, he cares for her and spoils her and she is married to him. The young Countess cannot imagine that a married woman should not care for her husband. In a certain way he corresponds to her ideal of manliness. He is honest and loves the truth. He had never broken his word. She considers him a true nobleman. On the 18th of March Beilif Charling celebrates his birthday and many then drive up Ruby Hill. People from the east and the west, known and unknown, invited and uninvited come to the Beilif's on that day. All are welcome. All find plenty of food and drink. And in the ballroom there is room for dancers from seven parishes. The young Countess is coming too as she always does where there is to be dancing and merrymaking. But she is not happy as she comes. It is as if she has a presentiment that it is now her turn to be dragged in in adventures wild chase. On the way she sat and watched the sinking sun it set in a cloudless sky and left no gold edges on the light clouds. A pale grey twilight swept by cold squalls settled down over the country. The young Countess saw how day and night struggled and how fear seized all living things at the mighty contest. The horses quickened their pace with the last load to come under shelter. The woodcutters hurred home from the woods the maids from the farmyard while creatures howled at the edge of the wood. The day beloved of man was conquered. The light grew dim, the colors faded, she only saw chillness and ugliness. What she had hoped, what she had loved, what she had done seemed to her to be also wrapped in the twilight's grey light. It was the hour of weariness, of depression, of impotence for her as for all nature. She thought that her own heart which now in its playful gladness clothed existence with purple and gold. She thought that this heart perhaps sometimes would lose its power to light up her world. Oh, impotence, my own heart's impotence she said to herself. Goddess of the stifling grey twilight, you will one day be mistress of my soul. Then I shall see life ugly and grey as it perhaps is. Then my hair will grow white, my back be bent, my brain be paralyzed. At the same moment the sledge turned in at the bailiff's gate and as the young countess looked up her eyes fell on a grated window in the wing and on a fierce staring face behind. That face belonged to the mages wife at Ikeby and the young woman knew that her pleasure for the evening was now spoiled. One can be glad when one does not see sorrow only hears it spoken of but it is harder to keep a joyous heart when one stands face to face with black fierce staring trouble. The countess knows of course that bailiff Charling had put the mages wife in prison and that she shall be tried for the assault she made on Ikeby the night of the great ball but she never thought that she should be kept in custody there at the bailiff's house so near the ballroom that one could look into her room so near that she must hear the dance music the voice of marrymaking and the thought takes away all her pleasure the young countess dances both walls and cadril she takes part in both minuet and contra dance but after each dance she steals to the window and the wing there is a light there and she can see how the mages wife walks up and down in her room she never seems to rest but walks and walks the countess takes no pleasure in the dance she only thinks of the mages wife going backwards and forwards in her prison like a caged wild beast she wonders how all the others can dance she's sure there are many there who are as much moved as she to know that the mages wife is so near and still there is no one who shows it but every time she has looked out her feet grow heavier in the dance and the laugh sticks in her throat the bailiff's wife notices her as she wipes the moisture from the window pane to see out and comes to her such misery oh, it is such suffering she whispers to the countess I think it is almost impossible to dance tonight whispers the countess back again it is not with my consent that we dance here while she is sitting shut up there answers madame charling she has been in Karlsdag since she was arrested but there is soon to be a trial now and that is why she was brought here today we could not put her in that miserable cell in the courthouse so she was allowed to stay in the weaving room in the wing she should have had my drawing room countess if all these people had not come today you hardly know her but she has been like a mother and queen to us all what will she think of us who are dancing here while she is in such great trouble it is as well that most of them do not know that she is sitting there she would never to have been arrested says the young countess sternly no that is a true word countess but there was nothing else to do if there should not be a worse misfortune no one blamed her for setting fire to her own haystack and driving out the pensioners but the major was scoring the country for her god knows what he would have done if she had not been put in prison charling has given much offence because he arrested the major's wife countess even in Karlstad they were much displeased with him because he did not shut his eyes to everything which happened at Ikeby but he did what he thought was best but now I suppose she will be sentenced says the countess oh no countess she will not be sentenced she will be acquitted but all that she has to bear these days is being too much for her she is going mad you can understand such a proud woman how can she bear to be treated like a criminal I think that it would have been best if she had been allowed to go free she might have been able to escape by herself let her go says the countess anyone can do that but the bailiff and his wife whispers madame charling we have to guard her especially tonight when so many of our friends are here two men sit on guard outside her door and it is locked and barred so that no one can come in but if anyone got her out countess we should be so glad both charling and I can I not go to her says the young countess madame charling seizes her eagerly by the wrist and leads her out with her in the hall they throw a couple of shawls about them and hurry across the yard it is not certain that she will even speak to us says the bailiff's wife but she will see that we have not forgotten her they come into the first room in the wing where the two men sit and guard the barred door and go in without being stopped to the major's wife she was in a large room crowded with looms and other implements it was used mostly for a weaving room but it had bars in the window and a strong lock on the door so that it could be used in case of need for a cell the major's wife continues to walk without paying any attention to them she is on a long wandering these days she cannot remember anything except that she is going the hundred and twenty miles to her mother who is up in the Elftal Woods and is waiting for her she never has time to rest she must go and never resting haste is on her her mother is over 90 years old she would soon be dead she has measured off the floor by yards and she is now adding up the yards to furlongs and the furlongs to half miles and miles her way seems heavy and long but she dares not rest she waits through deep drifts she hears the forest's murmur over her as she goes she rests in fin huts and in the charcoal burner's log cabin sometimes when there is nobody for many miles she has to break branches for a bed and rest under the roots of a fallen pine and at last she has reached her journey's end the hundred and twenty miles are over the wood opens out and the red house stands in a snow covered yard the claw river rushes foaming by in a succession of little waterfalls and by that well known sound she hears that she is at home and her mother who must have seen her coming begging just as she had wished comes to meet her when the major's wife has got so far she always looks up glances about her sees the closed door and knows where she is then she wonders if she's going mad and she's down to think and to rest but after a time she sets out again calculates the yards and the furlongs the half miles and the miles rests for a short time in fin huts and sleeps neither night nor day until she has again accomplished the hundred and twenty miles during all the time she has been in prison she has almost never slept and the two women who had come to see her looked at her with anguish the young countess will ever afterwards remember her as she walked there she sees her often in her dreams and wakes with eyes full of tears and a moan on her lips the old woman is so pitifully changed her hair is so thin and loose ends stick out from the narrow braid her face is relaxed and sunken her dress is disordered and dragged but with it all she has so much still of her lofty bearing that she inspires not only sympathy but also respect but what the countess remembered most distinctly were her eyes sunken turned inward not yet depred of all the light of reason but almost ready to be extinguished and with a spark of wildness lurking in their depths so that one had to shudder and fear to have the old woman in the next moment upon one with teeth ready to bite fingers to tear they have been there quite a while when the major's wife suddenly stops before the young woman and looks at her with a stern glance the countess takes a step backwards and sees his madame charling's arm the features of the major's wife have a life and expression her eyes look out into the world with full intelligence oh no, oh no she says and smiles as yet it is not so bad my dear young lady she asks them to sit down and sits down herself she has an air of old time stateliness known since days of feasting at Ekeby and at the royal balls at the governor's house at Karlstad they forget the rags and the prison and only see the proudest and richest woman in Värmland my dear countess, she says what possessed you to leave the dance to visit a lonely old woman you must be very good countess Elisabeth cannot answer her voice is choking with emotion madame charling answers for her that she had not been able to dance for thinking of the major's wife dear madame charling answers the major's wife has it gone so far with me that I disturb the young people in their pleasure you must not weep for me my dear young countess she continued I am a wicked old woman who deserves all I get you do not think it right to strike one's mother no, but the major's wife interrupts her and strokes the curly light hair back from her forehead child, child, she says how could you marry that stupid henrik dona but I love him I see how it is I see how it is says the major's wife a kind child and nothing more weeps with those in sorrow laughs with those who are glad and obliged to say yes to the first man who says I love you yes, of course go back now and dance my dear young countess dance and be happy there is nothing bad in you but I want to do something for you child, says the major's wife solemnly an old woman lived at ikibi who held the winds of heaven prisoners now she's caught and the winds are free is it strange that a storm goes over the land I who am old have seen it before countess I know it I know that the storm of the thundering god is coming sometimes it rushes over great kingdoms sometimes over small out of the way communities god's storm forgets no one it comes over the great as well as the small it is grand to see god's storm coming anguish shall spread itself over the land the small bird's nest shall fall from the branches the hawk's nest in the pine tree's top shall be shaken down to the earth with a great noise and even the eagle's nest in the mountain cleft shall the wind drag out with its dragon tongue we thought that all was well with us but it was not so god's storm is needed I understand that and I do not complain I only wish that I might go to my mother she suddenly sings back go now young woman she says I have no more time I must go go now and look out for them who ride on the storm cloud thereupon she renews her wondering her features relax her glance turns inward the countess and madame charling have to leave her as soon as they are back again among the dancers the young countess goes straight to justa bärling I can greet you from the major's wife she says she is waiting for you to get her out of prison then she must go on waiting countess oh help her bärling justa stares gloomily before him no he says why should I help her what thanks do I owe her everything she has done for me has been to my ruin but her bärling if she had not existed he says angrily I would now be sleeping up there in the forest is it my duty to risk my life for her because she has made me a pensioner at ekibi do you think much credit goes with that profession the young countess turns away from him without answering she is angry she goes back to her place thinking bitter thoughts of the pensioners they have come to night with horns and fiddles and mean to let the bows scrape the strings until the horse hair is worn through without thinking that the maritunes ring in the prisoners miserable room they come here to dance until their shoes fall to pieces and do not remember that their old benefactors can see their shadows whirling by the misty window paints alas how grey and ugly the world was alas what a shadow, trouble and hardness had cast over the young countess's soul after a while justa comes to ask her to dance she refuses shortly will you not dance with me countess he asks and grows very red neither with you nor with any other of the ekibi pensioners she says we are not worthy of such an honour it is no honour har bärling but it gives me no pleasure to dance with those who forget their precepts of gratitude justa has already turned on his heel this scene is heard and seen by many all think the countess is right the pensioners ingratitude and heartlessness had waked general indignation but in these days justa bärling is more dangerous than a wild beast in the forest ever since he came home from the hunt and found marian gone his heart has been like an aching wound he longs to do someone a bloody wrong and to spread sorrow and pain far around if she wishes it so he says to himself it shall be as she wishes but she shall not save her own skin the young countess likes abductions she shall get her fill he has nothing against adventure for eight days he has mourned for a woman's sake it is long enough he calls bärenkreutz the colonel and krishan barry the great captain and the slow kassinkristoffer who never hesitates at any mad adventure and consults with them how he shall revenge the pensioners injured honor it is the end of the party a long line of sledges drive up into the yard the men are putting on their fur cloaks the ladies look for their wraps en redfull confusion of the dressing room the young countess has been in great haste to leave this hateful ball she is ready first of all the ladies she stands smiling in the middle of the room and looks at the confusion when the door is thrown open and just a bailing shows himself on the threshold no man has the right to enter this room the old ladies stand there with their thin hair and no longer adorned with becoming caps and the young ones have turned up their skirts under their cloaks that the stiff ruffles may not be crushed on the way home but without paying any attention to the warning cries just a bailing rushes up to the countess and ceases her he lifts her in his arms and rushes from the room out into the hall and then on to the steps with her astonished women's screams could not check him when they hurry after they only see how he throws himself into a sledge with a countess in his arms they hear the driver crack his whip and see the horse set off they know the driver it is Berenkreuz they know the horse it is Donchuan and in deep distress over the countess's fate they call their husbands and these waste no time in questions but hasten to their sledges and with a count at their head they chase after the ravisher but he lies in the sledge holding the young countess fast he has forgotten all grief and mad with adventures intoxicating joy he sings at the top of his voice a song of love and roses close to him he presses her but she makes no attempt to escape her face lies white and stiffened against his breast aaah what shall a man do when he has a pale helpless face so near his own when he sees the fair hair which usually shades the white gleaming forehead pushed to one side and when the eyelids have closed heavily over the grey eyes roaches glass what shall a man do when red lips grow pale beneath his eyes kiss of course kiss the fading lips the closed eyes the white forehead but then the young woman awakes she throws herself back she is like a bent spring and he has to struggle with her with his whole strength to keep her from throwing herself from the sledge until finally he forces her subdued and trembling in the corner of the sledge see ses justa quite calmly to berenkreuz the countess is the third whom don't run and I have carried off this winter but the others hang about my neck with kisses and she will neither be kissed by me nor dance with me can you understand these women berenkreuz but when just a drew away from the house when the women scream and the men swore when the sleigh bells rang and the whips cracked and there was nothing but cries and confusion the men who guarded the major's wife were wondering what is going on they thought why are they screaming suddenly the door is thrown open and a voice calls to them she's gone he's driving away with her they rush out running like mad without waiting to see if it was the major's wife or who it was who was gone luck was with them and they came up with a hurrying sledge and they drove both far and fast before they discovered whom they were pursuing but Barry and cousin Christopher went quietly to the door burst the lock and opened it for the major's wife you are free they said she came out they stood straight as ramrods on either side of the door and did not look at her you have a horse and sledge outside she went out, placed herself in the sledge and drove away no one followed her no one knew whether she went down Brubbi Hilld on Schwann speeds towards the Leven's ice-covered surface the proud coarser flies on strong ice-coat breezes whistle by their cheeks the bells jingle the stars and the moon are shining the snow lies blue-white and glitters from its own brightness justa feels poetical thoughts waken him bear and croix he says this is life just a staunch one hurries away with this young woman so time hurries away with man you are necessity who stares the journey I am desire who fetters the will and she is dragged helpless always deeper and deeper down don't talk they are coming after us and with a whistling cut of the whip he urges donsch one to still wilder speed once it was the wolves now it is spoils Christ justa donsch one my boy fancy that you are a young elk rush through the brushwood wade through the swamps leap from the mountain top down into the clear lake swim across it with bravely lifted head and vanish vanish in the thick pine woods rescuing darkness spring donsch one spring like a young elk joy fills his wild heart at the mad race the cries of the pursuers are to him a song of victory joy fills his wild heart when he feels the countless body shake with fright when he hears her teak chatter suddenly he loosens the grip of iron with which he has held her he stands up in the sledge and waves his cap I am justa bärling he cries lord of ten thousand kisses and thirteen thousand love letters hooray for justa bärling take him who can and in the next minute he whispers in the countless air is not the pace good is not the course kingly beyond loven lies lake venner beyond venner lies the sea everywhere end the stretches of clear blue black eyes and beyond all a glowing world rolling thunders in the freezing eyes shrill cries behind us shooting stars above us and jingling bells before us forward always forward have you a mind to try the journey young beautiful lady he had let her go she pushes him roughly away the next instant finds him on his knees at her feet I am a wretch a wretch you ought not to have angered me countless you stood there so proud and fair and never thought that a pensioner's hand could reach you heaven and earth love you you ought not to add to the burden of those whom heaven and earth scorn he draws her hands to him and lifts them to his face if you only knew he says what it means to be an outcast one does not stop to think what one does no one does not at the same moment he notices that she has nothing on her hands he draws a pair of great fur gloves from his pocket and puts them on her and he has become all at once quite quiet he places himself in the sledge as far from the young countess as possible you need not be afraid he says do you not see where we are driving you must understand that we do not dare to do you any harm she who has been almost out of her mind with fright sees that they have driven across the lake and that Don Juan is struggling up the steep hill to Borry they stopped the horse before the steps of the castle and let the young countess get out of the sledge at the door of her own home when she is surrounded by attentive servants she regains her courage and presence of mind take care of the horse Anderson she says to the coachman these gentlemen who have driven me home will be kind enough to come in for a while the count will soon be here as you wish countess says justa and instantly gets out of the sledge beer and croix throws the reins to the groom without a moment's hesitation and the young countess goes before them hushes them into the hall with ill conceal malicious joy the countess had expected that the pensioners would hesitate at the proposition to wait her husband they didn't know perhaps what a stern and upright man he was they were not afraid of the inquiry he should make of them who had seized her by force and compelled her to drive with them she longed to hear him forbid them ever again to set their foot in her house she wished to see him call in the servants to point out the pensioners to them as men who thereafter never should be admitted within the doors of body she wished to hear him express his scorn not only what they had done to her but also of their conduct toward the old mages wife their benefactress he who showed her only tenderness and consideration would rise in just wrath against her persecutors love would give fire to his speech he who guarded and looked after her as a creature of finer stuff than any other would not bear that rough men had fallen upon her like birds of prey upon a sparrow she glowed with thirst of revenge beer and croix however walked undaunted into the dining room and up to the fire which was always lighted when the countess came home from a ball just remained in the darkness by the door and silently watched the countess while the sermon removed her outer wraps as he sat and looked at the young woman he rejoiced as he had not done for many years he saw so clearly it was like a revelation although he did not understand how he had discovered it that she had in her one of the most beautiful of souls as yet it lay bound and sleeping but it would someday show itself he rejoiced that having discovered all the purity and gentleness and innocence which was hidden in her he was almost ready to laugh at her of course she looked so angry and stood with flushed cheeks and frowning brows you do not know how gentle and good you are he thought the side of her being which was turned towards the outside world would never do her inner personality justice he thought but just a bearing from that hour must be her servant as one must serve everything beautiful and godlike yes there was nothing to be sorry for that he had just been so violent with her if she had not been so afraid if she had not trust him from her so angrily if he had not felt how her whole being was shaken by his roughness he would never have known what a fine and noble soul dwelt within her he had not thought it before she had only cared for pleasure seeking and amusement and she had married that stupid Count Henry yes now he would be her slave till death dog and slave as Captain Barry used to say and nothing more he sat by the door just a bearing and held with clasped hands a sort of service since the day when he for the first time felt the flame of inspiration burn in him he had not known such a holiness in his soul he did not move even when Count Donna came in with the crowd of people was swore and lamented over the pensioners mad performance he let Beerenkreuz receive the storm with indolent calm tried by many adventures the latter stood by the fireplace he had put one foot up on the fender rested his elbow on his knee and his chin on his hand and looked at the excited company what is the meaning of all this? roared the little count at him the meaning is, he said that as long as there are women on earth there will be fools to dance after their piping the young Count's face grew red I ask what that means, he repeated I ask that too, Snirbeerenkreuz I ask what it means when Henrik Donna's Countess will not dance with just a bearing the Count turned questioning to his wife I could not, Henrik, she cried I could not dance with him or any of them I thought of the major's wife whom they allowed to languish in prison the little count straightened his stiff body and stretched up his old man's head we pensioners, said Beerenkreuz permit no one to insult us she who will not dance with us must try with us no harm has come to the Countess and there can be an end to that matter no, said the Count it cannot be the end it is I who am responsible for my wife's acts now I ask why your stabailing did not turn to me to get satisfaction when my wife had insulted him Beerenkreuz smiled I ask that, repeated the Count one does not ask leave of the fox to take his skin from him, said Beerenkreuz the Count laid his hand on his narrow chest I am known to be a just man he cried I can pass sentence on my servants why should I not be able to pass sentence on my wife the pensioners have no right to touch her the punishment they have given her, I wipe out it has never been, do you understand gentlemen it has never existed the Count screamed out the words in a high falsetto Beerenkreuz cast a swift glance about the assembly there was not one of those present Sintram and Daniel Bendix and Dahlberg and all the others who had followed in who did not stand and smile at the way he outwitted stupid Henrik Dörner the young Countess did not understand at first what was it which should not be considered her anguish, the pensioners hard grip on her tender body the wild song, the wild words, the wild kisses did they not exist had that evening never been over which the goddess of the great twilight had reigned but Henrik silence he said and he drew himself up to chider woe to you that you who are a woman have wished to set yourself up as a judge of men he says woe to you that you who are my wife dare to insult one whose hand I'd gladly press what is it to you if the pensioners have put the major's wife in prison were they not right you can never know how angry man is to the bottom of his soul when he hears of a woman's infidelity do you also mean to go that evil way that you take such a woman's part but Henrik she wailed like a child and stretched out her arms to ward off the angry words she had never before heard such hard words addressed to her she was so helpless among these hard men and now her only defender turned against her never again would her heart have power to light up the world but Henrik it is you who ought to protect me just a bearing was observant now when it was too late he did not know what to do he wished her so well but he did not dare to trust himself between man and wife where is just a bearing asked the count here said justa and he made a pitable attempt to make a gesture of the matter you were making a speech I think count and I fell asleep what do you say to letting us go home and letting you all go to bed just a bearing since my countess has refused to dance with you I command her to kiss your hand and to ask you for forgiveness my dear count Henrik says justa smiling it is not a fit hand for a young woman to kiss yesterday it was red with blood from killing an elk today black with suit from a fight with a charcoal burner you have given a noble and high minded sentence that is satisfaction enough come bearing croix the count placed himself in his way do not go he said my wife must obey me I wish that my countess shall know whether it leads to be self-willed justa stood helpless the countess was quite white but she did not move go said the count Henrik I cannot you can said the count harshly you can but I know what you want you will force me to fight with this man because your whim is not to like him well if you will not make him a men's I shall do so you women love to have a man killed for your sake you have done wrong but will not atone for it therefore I must do it I shall fight the dual countess in a few hours I shall be a bloody corpse she gave him a long look and she saw him as he was stupid, cowardly, puffed up with pride and vanity the most pitiful of men be calm she said and she became as cold as ice I will do it but now your stabberling became quite beside himself you shall not countess no you shall not you are only child a poor innocent child and you would kiss my hand you have such a white beautiful soul I will never again come near you oh never again I bring death and destruction to everything good and blameless you shall not touch me I shudder for you like fire for water you shall not he put his hands behind his back it is all the same to me herberling nothing makes any difference to me anymore I ask you for forgiveness I ask you to let me kiss your hand just I kept his hands behind his back he approached the door if you do not accept the immense my wife offers I must fight with you just a belly and moreover must impose upon her another severe punishment the countess shrugged her shoulders he's mad from cowardice she whispered let me do it it does not matter if I am humble it is after all what you wanted the whole time did I want that do you think I wanted that well if I have no hands to kiss you must see that I did not want it he cried he ran to the fire and stretched out his hands into it the flames closed over them the skin shriveled up the nails crackle but in the same second Ben cried seized him by the neck and threw him across the floor he tricked against a chair and sat down he sat and almost plushed for such a foolish performance would she think that he only did it by way of boast to do such a thing in the crowded room must seem like a foolish want there had not been a vestige of danger before he could raise himself the countess was kneeling beside him she seized his red sooty hands and looked at them I will kiss them kiss them she cried as soon as they are not too painful and sore and the tears streamed from her eyes as she saw the blisters rising under the scorched skin for he had been like a revelation to her of an unknown glory that such things could happen here on earth that they could be done for her what a man this was ready for everything mighty in good as in evil a man of great deeds of strong words of splendid actions a hero a hero made of different stuff from others slave of a whim of the desire of the moment wild and terrible but possessor of a tremendous power fearless of everything she had been so depressed the whole evening she had not seen anything but pain and cruelty and cowardice now everything was forgotten the young countess was glad once more to be alive the goddess of the twilight was conquered the young countess saw light and color brighten the world it was the same night in the pensioners wing there they scolded and swore at just a bailing the old men wanted to sleep but it was impossible he let them get no rest it was in vain that they drew the bed curtains and put out the light he only taught he let them know what an angel the young countess was and how he adored her he would serve her worship her he was glad that everyone had forsaken him he could devote his life to her service she despised him of course but he would be satisfied to lie at her feet like a dog had they ever noticed an island out in the loven had they seen it from the south side where the rugged cliff rises precipitiously from the water had they seen it from the north where it sinks down to the sea in a gentle slope and where the narrow shores covered with great pines wind out into the water and make the most wonderful little lakes there on the steep cliff where the ruins of an old biking fortress still remains he would build a palace for the young countess a palace of marble broad steps at which boats decked with flags should land should be eun in the cliff down to the sea there should be glowing halls and lofty towers with gilded pinnacles it should be a suitable dwelling for the young countess that old wooden house at Bori was not worthy for her to enter when he had gone on so for a while first one snore and then another began to sound behind the yellow striped curtains but most of them swore and bewailed themselves over him and his foolishness friends he then says solemnly I see the green earth covered with the works of man or with the ruins of men's work the pyramids way down the earth the Taurus Babel has bored through the sky the beautiful temples and the grey castles have fallen into ruins but of all which hands have built what is it which has not fallen nor shall fall ah friends throw away the trowel and the mortar spread your mason aprons over your heads and lay you down to build bright palaces of dreams what has the soul to do with temples of stone and clay learn to build everlasting palaces of dreams and visions thereupon he went laughing to bed when shortly after the countess heard that the major's wife had been set free she gave a dinner for the pensioners and then began hers and Justa Bailing's long friendship end of section 12 of the story of Justa Bailing redd by Lars Rolander section 13 of the story of Justa Bailing this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org reading by Lars Rolander the story of Justa Bailing by Selma Lagerlöf translated from the Swedish by Pauline Bancroft Flack chapter 11 ghost stories oh children of the present day I have nothing new to tell you only what is old and almost forgotten I have legends from the nursery where the little ones sat on low stools about the old nurse with her white hair or from the log fire in the cottage where the laborers sat and chatted and the steam reeked from their wet clothes and they drew knives from leather sheets at their necks to spread the butter on thick soft bread or from the hall where old men sat in the rocking chairs and chaired by the steaming toddy talked of old times when a child who had listened to the old nurse to the laborers, to the old men stood at the window on a winter's evening and there were no clouds on the horizon without there being the pensioners the stars were wax candles which were lighted at the old house at Bori and the spinning wheel which hummed in the next room was driven by old Ulrika Dilner for the child's head was filled with the people of those old days it lived for and adored them such a child whose whole soul was filled with stories should be sent through the dark attic to the stor room for flax or biscuits then the small feet scurried then it came flying down the stairs through the passage to the kitchen for up there in the dark it could not help thinking of the wicked mill owner at Foch of him who was in league with the devil Sintram's ashes have been resting long in Swatford churchyard but no one believes that his soul has been called to God as it reads on his tombstone while he was alive he was one of those to whose home on long rainy Sunday afternoons a heavy coach drawn by black horses used to come a gentleman richly but plainly dressed gets out of the carriage and helps with cards and dice to while away the long hours which was there monotony have driven the master of the house to despair the game is carried on far into the night and when the stranger departs at dawn he always leaves behind some veilful parting gift as long as Sintram was here on earth he was one of those whose coming is made known by spirits they are heralded by visions their carriages roll into the yard their whip cracks their voices sound on the stairs the door of the entries opened and shut the dogs and people are awakened by the noise it is so loud but there is no one who has come it is only an hallucination which goes before them arg, those horrible people whom evil spirits seek out what kind of a big black dog was it which showed itself at fosh in Sintram's time he had terrible shining eyes and a long tongue which dripped blood and hung far out of his panting throat one day when the men servants had been in the kitchen and eaten their dinner he had scratched at the kitchen door and all the maids had screamed with fright but the biggest and strongest of the men had taken a burning log from the fire thrown open the door and hurled it into the dog's gaping mouth then he had fled with terrible howls flames and smoke had burst from his throat sparks whirled about him his footprints on the path shown like fire and was it not dreadful that every time Sintram came home from a journey he had changed the animals which drew him he left with horses but when he came home at night he had always black balls before his carriage the people who lived near the road saw their great black horns against the sky when he drove by and heard the creatures bellowing and were terrified by the line of sparks which the hooves and wheels drew out of the dry gravel yes, the little feet needed to hurry indeed to come across the big dark attic think if something awful if he whose name one may not say should come out of a dark corner who can be sure it was not only to wicked people that he showed himself had not Ulrika Dillner seen him both she and Anna Schoenhoek could say that they had seen him friends, children, you who dance, you who laugh I beg you so earnestly to dance carefully laugh gently for there can be so much unhappiness if your thin slippers tread on sensitive hearts instead of on heartboards or if your glad silvery laughter can drive a soul to despair it was surely so the young people's feet had trodde too hard on old Ulrika Dillner and the young people's laughter had rang too arrogantly in her ears for they came over her suddenly an irresistible longing for married women's titles and dignities at last she said yes to the evil Sintram's long courtship followed him to Foch as his wife and was parted from the old friends at Barria the dear old work and the old cares for daily bread it was a match which went quickly and gaily Sintram offered himself at Christmas and in February they were married that year Anna Schoenhoek was living in Captain Oglas home she was a good substitute for old Ulrika and the latter could draw back without compunction and take to herself married honors without compunction but not without regret it was not a pleasant place she had come to the big empty rooms were filled with dreadful terrors as soon as it was dark she began to tremble and to be afraid she almost died of home sickness the long Sunday afternoons were the hardest of all they never came to an end neither they nor the long succession of torturing thoughts which traveled through her brain so it happened one day in March when Sintram had not come home from church to dinner that she went into the drawing room on the second floor and placed herself at the piano it was her last consolation the old piano with a flute player and a shepherdess painted on the white cover was her own come to her from her parents home to it she could tell her troubles it understood her but is it not both pitiful and ridiculous do you know what she's playing only a polka and she who is so heartbroken she does not know anything else before her fingers stiffened round broom and carving knife she had learnt this one polka it sticks in her fingers but she does not know any other piece no impassioned sonata not even a wailing ballad only the polka she plays it whenever she has anything to confide to the old piano she plays it both when she feels like weeping and like smiling when she was married she played it and when for the first time she had come to her own home and also now the old strings understand her she is unhappy unhappy a traveller passing by and hearing the polka ring could well believe that syndrome was having a ball for neighbours and friends it sounds so gay it is such a brave and glad melody with it in the old days she has played carelessness in and hunger out at barrier when they heard it everyone must up and dance it burst the fetters of rheumatism about the joints and lured pensioners of 80 years on to the floor the whole world would gladly dance to that polka it sounds so gay but old Ulrika weeps syndrome has salky morose servants about him and savage animals she longs for friendly faces and smiling mouse it is this despairing longing which the lively polka shall interpret people find it hard to remember that she is madame's syndrome everybody calls her mamsel Dilner she wants the polka tune to express her sorrow for the vanity which tempted her to seek for married honours old Ulrika plays as if she would break the strings there is so much to drown the lamentations of the poor peasants the curses of overworked cottagers the snares of insolent servants and first and last the shame the shame of being the wife of a bad man to those notes just a balling has led young Countess Dona to the dance Marianne Sinclair and her many admirers have danced to them and the major's wife at Ekby has moved to their measure when Althringer was still alive she can see them couple after couple in their youth and beauty world by there was a stream of gaiety from them to her from her to them there was her polka which made their cheeks glow their eyes shine she's parted from all that now let the polka resound so many memories so many tender memories to drown she plays to deaden her anguish her heart is ready to burst with terror when she sees the black dog when she hears the servants whispering she plays the polka over and over again to deaden her anguish then she perceives that her husband has come home she hears that he comes into the room and sits down in the rocking chair she knows so well the sound as the rockers creek on the deal floor that she does not even look round all the time she's playing the rocking continues she soon hears the music no longer only the rocking poor old Ulrika so tortured, so lonely so helpless a stray in a hostile country without a friend to complain to without any consular but a cracked piano which answers her with a polka it is like loud laughter at a funeral a drinking song in a church while the rocking chair is still rocking she hears suddenly how the piano is laughing at her sorrows and she stops in the middle of a bar she rises and turns through the rocking chair but the next instant she is lying in a swoon on the floor it was not her husband who sat in the rocking chair but another he to whom little children do not dare to give a name he who would frighten them to death if they should meet him in the deserted attic can anyone whose soul has been filled with legends ever free himself from their dominion the night wind house outside the trees whip the pillars of the balcony with their stiff branches the sky arches darkly over the far stretching hills and I who sit alone in the night and right with the lamp lighted and the curtain drawn I who am old and ought to be sensible feel the same shudder creeping up my back as when I first heard this story and I have to keep lifting my eyes from my work to be certain that no one has come in and hidden himself in that further corner I have to look out on the balcony to see if there is not a blackhead looking over the railing this fright never leaves me when the night is dark and solitude deep and it becomes at last so dreadful that I must throw aside my pen creep down in my bed and draw the blanket up over my eyes it was the great secret wonder of my childhood that Ulrika Dillner survived that afternoon I should never have done so I hope dear friends that you may never see the tears of old eyes and that you may not have to stand helpless when a grey head leans against your breast for support or when old hands are clasped about yours in a silent prayer may you never see the old sunk in a sorrow which you cannot comfort what is the grief of the young they have strength they have hope but what's suffering it is when the old weep what despair when they who have always been the support of your young days sink into helpless wailing there sat Anna Fernhök and listened to old Ulrika and she saw no way out for her the old woman wept and trembled her eyes were wild she talked and talked sometimes quite incoherently as if she did not know where she was the thousand wrinkles which crossed her face were twice as deep as usual the false curves which hang down over her eyes were straightened by her tears and her whole long thin body was shaken with the sobs at last Anna had to put an end to the wailings she had made up her mind she was going to take her back with her to Bärja of course she was Syndrome's wife but she could not remain at Foch he would drive her mad if she stayed with him Anna Fernhök had decided to take old Ulrika away ah how the poor thing rejoiced and yet trembled at this decision but she never would dare to leave her husband and her home he would perhaps send the big black dog after her but Anna Fernhök conquered her resistance partly by jests, partly by threats and in half an hour she had her beside her in the sledge Anna was driving herself and old Disa was in the shafts the road was wretched for it was late in March but it did old Ulrika good to dry once more in the well known sledge behind the old horse who had been a faithful servant at Bärja almost as long as she as she had naturally a cheerful spirit she stopped crying by the time they passed Arvidstorp at Hörgberg she was already laughing and when they passed Monkeby she was telling how it used to be in her youth when she lived with a countess at Svannholm they drew up a steep and stony road in the lonely and deserted region north of Monkeby the road sought out all the hills it possibly could find it crept up to their tops by slow windings rushed down them in a steep descent hurrid across the even valley to find a new hill to climb over they were just driving down Vestratorps hill when old Ulrika stopped short in what she was saying and seized Anna by the arm she was staring at a big black dog at the roadside look she said the dog set off into the wood Anna did not see much of him drive on said Ulrika drive as fast as you can now Sintrum will hear that I have gone Anna tried to laugh at her terror but she insisted we shall soon hear his slables you will see we shall hear them before we reach the top of the next hill and when Disa drew breath for a second at the top of Aelofs hill slables could be heard behind them old Ulrika became quite mad with fright she trembled, sobbed and wailed as she had done in the drawing room at Fosh Anna tried to urge Disa on but she only turned her head and gave her a glance of unspeakable surprise did she think that Disa had forgotten when it was time to thrott and when it was time to walk did she want to teach her how to drag a sledge to teach her who had known every stone every bridge, every gate, every hill and more than twenty years all this while the slables were coming nearer it is he, it is he I know his bells Wales old Ulrika the sound comes ever nearer sometimes it seems so unnaturally loud that Anna turns to see if Sintrum's horse has not got his head in her sledge sometimes it dies away hear it now on the right now on the left of the road but they see no one it is as if the dingling of the bells alone pursues them just as it is at night on the way home from a party is it also now these bells ring out a tune they sing, speak, answer the woods echo with their sound Anna Scharnock almost wishes that their pursuer would come near enough for her to see Sintrum himself and his red horse the dreadful slables anger her those bells torture me she says the word is taken up by the bells torture me they ring torture me, torture, torture, torture me they sing to all possible tunes it was not so long ago that she had driven this same way hunted by wolves she had seen their white teeth in the darkness gleem in their gaping mouths she had thought that her body would soon be torn to pieces by the wild beasts of the forest but then she had not been afraid she had never lived through a more glorious night strong and beautiful had the horse been which drew her, strong and beautiful was the man who had shared the joy of the adventure with her ah, this old horse this old helpless trembling companion she feels so helpless that she longs to cry she cannot escape from those terrible irritating bells so she stops and gets out of the sledge there must be an end to it all why should she run away as if she were afraid of that wicked contemptible wretch at last she sees a horse head come out of the advancing twilight and after the head a whole horse, a whole sledge and in the sledge sits syndrome himself she notices however that it is not as if they had come along the road this sledge and this horse and their driver but more as if they had been created just there before her eyes and had come forward out of the twilight as soon as they were made ready Anna threw the reins to Ulrika and went to meet syndrome he stops the horse very well he says what a piece of luck dear Miss Shanheck let me move my companion over to your sledge he's going to barrier tonight and I'm in a hurry to get home where is your companion syndrome lifts his blanket and shows Anna a man who's lying asleep on the bottom of the sledge he is a little drunk he says what what does that matter he will sleep it is an old acquaintance moreover it is just a bearling Anna shudders well I will tell you continue syndrome that she who forsakes the man she loves sells him to the devil that was the way I got into his claws people think they do so well of course to renounce is good and to love is evil what do you mean what are you talking about asks Anna quite disturbed I mean that you should not have let just a bearling go from you miss Anna it was God's will yes yes that's the way it is to renounce is good and to love is evil the good God does not like to see people happy he sends wolves after them but if it was not God who did it miss Anna could it not just as well have been I called my little gray lambs from the Dover mountains to hunt the young man and the young girl think if it was I who sent the wolves because I did not wish to lose one of my own think if it was not God who did it you must not tempt me to doubt that says Anna in a weak voice for then I am lost look here just a barely look at his little finger that little sore never heals we took the blood there when he signed the contract he is mine there is a peculiar power in blood he is mine and it is only love which can free him but if I am allowed to keep him he will be a fine thing Anna Scharnock struggles and struggles to shake off the fascination which has seized her it is all madness, madness no one can swear away his soul to the odious tempter but she has no power over her thoughts the twilight lies so heavy over her the wood stands so dark and silent she cannot escape the dreadful terror of the moment you think perhaps continue symptom that there is not much left in him to ruin but don't think that has he ground down the peasants has he deceived poor friends has he cheated at cards has he miss Anna has he been a married woman's lover I think you are the devil himself let us exchange you take just a bearing take him and marry him keep him and give them at barrier the money I yield him up to you and you know that he is mine think that it was not God who sent the wolves after you the other night and let us exchange what do you want as compensation Sintrumgrind I what do I want oh I am satisfied with little I only want that old woman there in your sledge Miss Anna Satan tempter Christ Anna, leave me shall I betray an old friend who relies on me shall I leave her to you that you may torture her to madness there, there, there quietly Miss Anna think what you are doing here is a fine young man and there an old worn out woman one of them I must have which of them will you let me keep Anna Scharnock laughed wildly I should think that we can stand here and exchange souls as they exchange horses at the market at Ruby yes, so, yes but if you will we shall put it on another basis we shall think of the honour of the Scharnhux there upon he begins to call in a loud voice to his wife who is sitting in Anna's sledge and to the girls unspeakable horror she obeys the summons instantly gets out of the sledge and comes trembling and shaking to them see, see, see such an obedient wife says Syntrum, you cannot prevent her coming when her husband calls now I shall leave just the out of my sledge and leave him here leave him for good Miss Anna and whoever may want to can pick him up he bends down to lift just the up but Anna leans forward fixes him with her eyes and his is like an angry animal in God's name go home do you not know who is sitting in the rocking chair in the drawing room and waiting for you do you dare to let him wait it was for Anna almost the climax of the horrors of the day to see how these words affect him he drags on the rains, turns and rhymes home words urging the horse to gallop with blows and wild cries down the dreadful hill while a long line of sparks crackle under the runners and hooves in the thin march snow Anna Scharnhux and Ulrika Dillner stand alone in the road but they do not say a word Ulrika trembles before Anna's wild eyes and Anna has nothing to say to the poor old thing for whose sake she has sacrificed her beloved she would have liked to weep, to rave to roll on the ground and strew snow and sand on her head before she had known the sweetness of renunciation now she knew its bitterness what was it to sacrifice her love compared to sacrificing her beloved soul they drove on to Bariah in the same silence but when they arrived and the hall door was opened Anna Scharnhux fainted for the first and only time in her life there sat both Sintram and Josta Bärling and chatted quietly the tray with Toddy had been brought in and he had been there at least an hour Anna Scharnhux fainted but old Ulrika stood calm she had noticed that everything was not right with him who had followed them on the road afterwards the captain and his wife arranged the matter so with Sintram that old Ulrika was allowed to stay at Bariah he agreed good natureedly to driver mad he said I do not ask anyone to believe these old stories they cannot be anything but lies and fiction but the anguish which passes over the heart until it wails as the floorboards in Sintram's room wailed under the swaying rockers but the questions which ring in the ears asked the slobels rang for Anna Scharnhux in the lonely forest when will they be a slice and fiction oh that they could be end of section 13 of the story of Josta Bärling read by Lars Rullander