 Chapter 1 – The Treasure by Selma Lagerlöf Detta är en LibriVox rekordning, och LibriVox rekordning är i den publiska domen. För mer information eller till volantär, visst visst LibriVox.org, Riding by Lars Rolander. The Treasure by Selma Lagerlöf. Translated från Swedish by author G. Chater, Riding by Lars Rolander. Chapter 1 – At Sulbärja parsenage I the days when King Frederick II of Denmark ruled over Boerslen. Frederick II reigned from 1544 to 1588, at that time Boerslen, now a province of southwest Sweden, formed part of Norway and was under the Danish crown. Then there dwelt at Marstrand a poor hawker of fish whose name was Turarin. This man was infirm and of humble condition. He had a palsid arm, which made him unfit to take his place in a boat for fishing or pulling an oar. As he could not earn his livelihood at sea like all the other men of the scaries, he went about selling salted and dried fish among the people of the mainland. Not many days in the year did he spend at home. He was constantly on the road from one village to another with his load of fish. One February day as dusk was drawing on, Turarin came driving along the road, which led from Kungshall up to the parish of Sulbärja. The road was a lonely one, altogether deserted, but this was no reason for Turarin to hold his tongue. Beside him on the sledge he had a trusty friend with whom to chat. This was a little black dog with shaggy coat, and Turarin called him Grim. He lay still most of the time, with his head sunk between his feet, and answered only by blinking to all his master said. But if his ear caught anything that is pleased him, he stood up on the load, put his nose in the air, and howled worse than a wolf. Now I must tell you Grim, my dog, said Turarin, that I have heard great news today. De bergade mig både i Kungshall och Kariby, att det var fröden. Färg, calm, om det har varit så lång tid, som du vet, har varit ute i det varje dag. De säger att det var fröden fast inte bara i krigs och kronor, men far utover kattegatt. Det är ingen färg mål nu för skogen, eller båten mellan ålder. Det är inget, men färm, hård vis, så att en man kan driva med hården och slöja hos en muskvarnad och en nöster som sker. Allt det här hörde den, och det seemede inte att spela hos henne. Han lagde stort och blickade Turarin. Vi har ingen stor del av fisk på vår load, sa Turarin, som då försökte tala hos henne. Vad vill du säga för att stå upp i nästa krossan och gå i Västvård, där kriget sker? Vi ska passa med Sulbaria, kärten och ner till Ödsmålskil. Och efter det tror jag att vi har bort 7 eller 8 miler till Mashdrande. Det skulle vara en fin sak om vi kunde åka hem omkring, utan att kalla för båt eller färg. De drömde på över långt mer av Kariby, och även om det var en liten alldeles, en liten bris kom att stå upp kring dem, till de komforten av travelern. Det kanske ser ut som en litenhet att gå hem nu, när Trades, i sitt bäst, sa Turarin, kallade hos hans arm att hämta dem. Men vi har varit på väg för många veckar, du och jag, och har ett klart att sitta på hos en dag eller två, och stå på kolden av våra bodies. Om de fortsätter att sitta på kolden, Turarin kallade hos hans arm att stå upp kring dem, och han kallade hos en liten bris kom. Morgon har varit på väg samtidigt i de här många dagar. Jag varar inte att hon kallade hos oss, och Mashdrande är en fin stad i vintertid. Grimm, med storten och all är full av fiskar och chappar. Det kommer att bli dansa i djuren varje dag eller veck, och alla älskar som kommer att bli flera i tabeln. Det är en del av djuren som du vet. Som Turarin sa, kallade han hos en djur att se om han hörde vad han sa till hans. Men som djur kallade han sig långt och gjorde ingen sign av diskussion, Turarin kallade hos den första röden som ledde väg till vägen. Han kallade hos den slaget av röden och gjorde det snäckligt i sin väg. –Så vi ska passa med Sulbaria parsonage, kallade Turarin. –Jag kommer även att sätta in det och fråga om det är sant att djuren bär så långt som Mashdrande. Folk där måste veta hur det är. Turarin hade sagt de här ordet i en liten vold, utan att tänka om djuren var att lyssna eller inte. Men skärskigt var de ordet öppna, när djuren stod upp på luft, och rådde en jävla hävd. Håret var bära till en sida, och Turarin själv var startad och kallade honom för att se om de vultarna var i perspekt. Men när han kallade det var Grim, som var hävd, kallade han hos honom. –Vad nu? sa han. –Hur många gånger har du och jag drit till parsonaget, Sulbaria? –Jag vet inte om henne kan berätta hur det är med djuren, men jag kommer att bli bärande för att ge oss en bra uppe för att sätta ut på vår sida. –Är den tiden av den här historien, henne var en tidig tid, ungefär korrespondent till djuren. Men djuren var inte bära tillbaka till djuren, som rådde henne och kallade mer djuren än alltid. Hennes Turarin själv var inte långt från att åka till en ungerning. Det hade nu blivit nära människa, men Turarin kunde nog se Sulbaria och den breda ljudet omkring det, som var skälta av breddbordiga höjden till landvården och med bära rådde rörelser till den ljudet. Som han drit på i solitet över den vasta breda ljudet, kallade han att han var en rädd ljudet. Väl från djuren och människa vägen kom trus av breddbordiga människa och trus av alla rörelser till den övriga ljudet omkring den ljudet omkring. Och i hela breddbordiga ljudet var ingen annorlunda för dem att falla på än pur Turarin. Men samtidigt försökte han igen att sälja djuren. Välkomna, vad är djuren med djuren? Han är den världigaste människa i land. Han är tillbaka tillbaka och hade han inte varit en människa som hade varit en bra människa av honom. Men det kunde inte vara en väg att bringa djuren till ljudet. Då Turarin lossade patienten så att han tog en krängning av rörelsen och trådde honom omkring den ljudet. Hållde djuren inte följde honom när han drit på men stod på rörelsen och hälvde sig inte till Turarin drit under en människa rörelse till den ljudet av den ljudet, vilket var kvar drit på djuren på djuren på långa, långa, långa, långa ljudet. Hade Sulberia Parsunic den priset Tarane satt på sötter för alla djuren i huset. Det var ingen sänkare present, men Turarin. Tarane var en äldre vänniska människa, men han var fortfarande tillbaka och direkt. Han satt vid hans vän. Hållde honom har varit en vänniska. Hållde honom och hans vänniska rörelse och hon var nära djuren. Hållde honom en annan sänkare satt hans vänniska rörelse. Han var en vänniska människa med ljudet av träd i hans vän. Hade han inte kunnat supporta alla djuren han hade samlat in i djuren i djuren av studiet vid Wittenberg. De satt på hans rörelse. En liten rörelse från rörelsen. Bara dem satt Turarin och sen de servare som var äldre som vänniska. De var tre servare. De satt på hans rörelse. De satt på hans rörelse. De satt på hans rörelse. De satt på hans rörelse. De satt på hans rörelse. De var lite människa och mer äldre som vänniska. Men de satt på hans rörelse och var affrikta med införminnerna. På den flesta enden av tabeln satt två barn. En av dem var hans annan sänkare. En barn som inte mer än 14 år. Han var färdig och av en liten bild. Han satt inte fortfarande hans sänkare men hade en promiss av vänniska i den. Han hade en annan liten människa sänkare i hans rörelse. En pojlare orfin utan förfärg eller män som hade varit givna en hjärta på hans rörelse. De satt nära samtidigt på benet och det kunde bli att det var en bra vänniska mellan dem. Alla dessa folk satt på hans rörelse i den värsta sänkare. Turarin satt från en till andra men ingen var bespås att tala på den. Alla de äldre sänkare satt på hans rörelse. Det är en bra sänkare att ge dig färg och för att spära de sänkare av vänniska och hjärta som vi kunde veta så mycket i våra liv. När vi älskar måste vi ha ingen sänkare utan att ge en tack till Gud för hans sänkare. Since Turarin found no one to talk to his glance wandered up and down the room. He turned his eyes from the great stove built up in many stages beside the entrance door to the lofty four post bed which stood in the farthest corner of the room. He looked from the fixed benches that ran round the room to the hole in the roof through which the smoke escaped and wintry air poured in. As Turarin the fish hawker who lived in the smallest and poorest cabin on the outer aisles looked upon all these things he thought. Were I a great man like Harane I would not be content to live in an ancient homestead with only one room. I should build myself a house with high gables and many chambers like those of the burgo masters and older men of Mastrand. But more often than not Turarin's eyes rested upon a great oaken chest which stood at the foot of the four post bed. And he looked at it so long because he knew that in it Harane kept all his silver monies and he had heard they were so many that they filled the chest to the very lid. And Turarin who was so poor that he hardly ever had a silver piece in his pocket said to himself and yet I would not have all that money they say Harane took it from the great convents that were in the land in former days and that the old monks foretold that this money would bring him misfortune. While yet these thoughts were in the mind of Turarin he saw the old mistress of the house put her hand to her ear to listen. And then she turned to Harane and asked him Why are they wetting knives at Pranehög? So deep was the silence in the room that when the old lady asked this question all gave a start and looked up in fright. When they saw that she was listening for something they kept their spoons quiet and strained their ears. For some moments there was dead stillness in the room. But while it lasted the old woman became more and more uneasy. She laid her hand on her harness arm and asked him How can it be that they are wetting such long knives at Pranehög this evening? Turarin saw that Harane stroked her hand to calm her. But he was in no mind to answer and ate on calmly as before. The old woman still sat listening. Tears came into her eyes from terror and her hands and her head trembled more and more violently. Then the two little maids who sat at the end of the table began to weep with fear. Can you not hear them scraping and filing? Ask the old mistress. Can you not hear them hissing and grating? Harane sat still stroking his wife's hand as long as he kept silence no other dead utter a word. But they were all assured that their old mistress had heard a thing that was terrifying and bodied ill. All felt the blood curdling in their veins. No one at the table raised a bit of food to his mouth except old Harane himself. They were thinking of the old mistress how it was she who for so many years had had charge of the household. She had always stayed at home and watched with wise and tender care of her children and servants, goods and cattle so that all had prospered. Now she was worn out and stricken in years. But still it was likely that she and none other should feel a danger that threatened the house. The old lady grew more and more terrified. She clasped her hands in her helplessness and began to weep so sorely that the big tears ran down her shrunken cheeks. Is it nothing to you, Arne Arneson, that I'm so sore afraid? She complained. Harane bent his head to her and said, I know not what it is that frights you. I'm in fear of the long knives they are wetting at Branehög, she said. How can you hear them wetting knives at Branehög? said Harane smiling. The place lies two miles from here. Take up your spoon again and let us finish our supper. The old woman made an effort to overcome her terror. She took up her spoon and dipped it in the milk-bowl. But in doing it, her hand shook so that all could hear the spoon rattle against the edge. She put it down again at once. Oh, can I eat? she said. Do I not hear the whining of the whetstone? Do I not hear it grating? At this, Harane thrust the milk-bowl away from him and clasped his hands. All the others did the same, and the curate began to say grace. When this was ended, Harane looked down at those who sat along the table, and when he saw that they were pale and frightened, he was angry. He began to speak to them of the days when he had lately come to Boosland to preach the Lutheran doctrine. Then he and his servants were forced to fly from the poppists like wild beasts before the hunter. Have we not seen our enemies' line wait for us as we were on our way to the house of God? Have we not been driven out of the personage and have we not been compelled to take to the woods like outlaws? Does it be seem us to play the card and give ourselves up for loss on account of an evil omen? As Harane said this, he looked like a valiant champion, and the others took heart anew on hearing him. Aye, it is true, they thought. God has protected Harane through the greatest perils. He holds his hands over him. He will not let his servant perish. As soon as Turarin drove out upon the road, his dog Ring came up to him and jumped up on to the load. When Turarin saw that the dog had been waiting outside the personage, his uneasiness came back. What Grim, why do you stay outside the gate all the evening? Why did you not go into the house and have your supper? He said to the dog, can there be ought of ill awaiting Harane? Maybe I have seen him for the last time, but even a strong man like him must one day die, and he is near ninety years old. He guided his horse into a road which led past the farm of Branehög to Ödsmålshil. When he was come to Branehög he saw sledges standing in the yard and lights shining through the cracks of the closed shutters. Then Turarin said to Grim, these folks are still up. I will go in and ask if they have been sharpening knives here tonight. He drove into the farm yard, but when he opened the door of the house he saw that a feast was being held. Upon the benches by the wall sat old men drinking ale, and in the middle of the room the young people played and sang. Turarin sought once that no man here thought of making his weapon ready for a deed of blood. He slammed the door again and would have gone his way, but the host came after him. He asked Turarin to stay since he had come and led him into the room. Turarin sat for a good while enjoying himself and chatting with the peasants. They were in high good humor and Turarin was glad to be rid of all his gloomy thoughts. But Turarin was not the only latecomer to the feast that evening. Long after him a man and a woman entered the door. They were poorly clad and lingered bashfully in the corner between door and fireplace. The host at once came forward to his two guests. He took the hand of each and led them up the room. Then he said to the others. Is it not truly said that the shorter the way the more the delay. These are our nearest neighbors. Branahög had no other tenants beside them and me. Say rather there are none but you. Said the man. You cannot call me a tenant. I'm only poor charcoal burner whom you have allowed to settle on your land. The man seated himself beside Turarin and they began to converse. The newcomer told Turarin how it was he came so late to the feast. It was because their cabin had been visited by three strangers whom they durst not leave. Three journeymen, tanners who had been with them all day. When they came in the morning they were worn out and ailing. They said they had lost their way in the forest and had wandered about for a whole week. But after they had eaten and slept they soon recovered their strength. And when evening came they had asked which was the greatest and richest house there about. For dither they would go and seek for work. The wife had answered that the parsonage but her honor and wealth was the best place. Then at once they had taken long knives out of their packs and began to sharpen them. They were at this a good while with such ferocious looks that the charcoal burner and his wife durst not leave their home. I can still see them as they sat grinding their knives, said the man. They looked terrible with their great beards that had not been cut or tended for many a day. And they were clad in rough coats of skin which were tattered and befalled. I thought I had three werewolves in the house with me and I was glad when at last they took themselves off. When Turarin heard this he told the charcoal burner what he himself had witnessed at the parsonage. So it was true enough that this night they wetted knives at Branehörg, said Turarin laughing. He had drunk deeply because of the sorrow and heaviness that were upon him when he came seeking to comfort himself as best he could. Now I'm of good cheer again, said he. Since I'm well assured it was no evil omen the parson's lady heard but only these tanners making ready their gear. Long after midnight a couple of men came out of the house at Branehörg to harness their horses and drive home. When they had come into the yard they saw a great fire flaring up against the sky in the north. They hastened back into the house and cried out Come out, come out! Sulbaria parsonage is on fire! There were many forks at the feast and those who had a horse lept upon his back and made haste to the parsonage but those who had to run with their own swift feet were there almost as soon. When the people came to the parsonage nobody was to be seen nor was there any sign of movement all seemed to be sleep though the flames rose high into the air. Yet it was none of the houses that burned but a great pile of wood and straw and fagots that had been stacked against the wall of the old dwelling. It had not been burning long the flames had done no more than blacken the sound timber of the wall and melt the snow of the thatchedrew but now they had begun to take hold of the thatch. Everyone sought once that this was arson they began to wonder whether her arna and his wife were really asleep or whether some evil had befallen them but before the rescuers entered the house they took long poles and pulled away the burning fagots from the wall and clambered up to the roof to tear off the thatch which had begun to smoke and was ready to catch fire. Then some of the men went to the door of the house to enter and call her arna but when the first man came to the threshold he turned aside and made way for him who came next. The second man took a step forward but as he was about to grasp the door handle he turned away and made room for those who stood behind him. It seemed a ghastly door to open for a broad stream of blood trickled over the threshold and the handle was besmeared with blood. Then the door opened in their faces and her arna's curate came out. He staggered toward the men with a deep wound in his head and he was drenched with blood. For an instant he stood upright and raised his hand to command silence whereupon he spoke with the deathrattle in his voice This night arna and all his household have been murdered by three men who climbed down through the smoke hole in the roof and were clad in roughskins. They threw themselves upon us like wild beasts and slew us. He could utter no more. He fell down at the men's feet and was dead. They then entered the room and found all as the curate had said. The great oak and chest in which her arna kept his money was gone and her arna's horse had been taken from the stable and his sledge from the shed. Sledge tracks led from the yard across the glib meadows down to the sea and twenty men hastened away to cease the murderers. But the women set themselves to laying out the dead and carried them from the bloody room out upon the pure snow. Not all of her arna's household could be found. There was one missing. It was the poor little maid whom her arna had taken into his house. There was much wondering whether perhaps she had been able to escape or whether the robbers had taken her with them. But when they made careful search through the room they found her hidden away between the great stove and the wall. She had kept herself concealed there throughout the struggle and had taken no hurt at all. But she was so sick with terror that she could neither speak nor answer a question. End of chapter one of the treasure by Selmalagelev read by Lars Rolander. Chapter two of the treasure by Selmalagelev. 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 treasure by Selmalagelev. Translated from the Swedish by Arthur G. Cheter. Chapter two on the case. The poor maid who had escaped the butchery had been taken by Torarin Tomastran. He had conceived so great pity for her that he had offered her lodging in his cramped cabin and a share of the food which he and his mother ate. This is the only thing I can do for Harane, Totorarin. In return for all the time she has bought my fish and allowed me to sit at his table. Poor and lowly as I am, Totorarin. It is better for the maid that she go with me to the town than that she stay here among the country for. In Mastrand are many rich burgesses and perhaps the young maid may take service with one of them and so be well cared for. When first the girl came to the town she sat and wept from morning to night. She bewailed Harane and his household and lamented that she had lost all who were dear to her. Most of all she wept for her foster sister and said she wished she had not hidden herself against the wall so that she might have shared death with her. Torarin's mother said nothing to this so long as her son was at home. But when he had gone on his travels again she said one morning to the girl. I am not rich enough Elsalil to give you food and clothing that you may sit with your hands in your lap and nurse your sorrow. Come with me down to the case and learn to clean fish. So Elsalil went with her down to the case and stood all day working among the other fish cleaners. But most of the women on the case were Jung and Mary. They began to talk to Elsalil and asked her why she was so silent and sorrowful. Then Elsalil began to tell them of the terrible thing that had befallen her no more than three nights ago. She spoke of the three robbers who had broken into the house by the smoke hole in the roof and murdered all who were near and dear to her. As Elsalil told her tale a black shadow fell across the table at which she worked and when she looked up three fine gentlemen stood before her wearing broad hats with long feathers and well with clothes with great puffs embroidered in silk and gold. One of them seemed to be of higher rank than the others. He was very pale, his chin was shaven and his eyes sat deep in his head. He looked as though he had lately been ill but in all else he seemed a gay and bold-faced cavalier who walked on the sunny case to show his fine clothes and his handsome face. Elsalil broke off both work and story. She stood looking at him with open mouth and staring eyes and he smiled at her. We are not come hither to fright new mistress, said he, but to beg that we too may listen to your tale. Kur Elsalil. Never in her life had she seen such a man. She felt she could not speak in his presence. She merely held her peace and cast her eyes upon her work. The stranger began again. Be not afraid of us, mistress. We are Scotsmen who have been in the service of King John of Sweden ten full years but now have taken our discharge and are bound for home. We have come to Marstrand to find a ship for Scotland but when we came hither we found every channel and first frozen over. And here we must bide and wait. We have no business to employ us and therefore we range about the case to meet whom we may. We should be happy, mistress, if you would let us hear your tale. Elsalil knew that he had talked thus long to let her recover from her emotion. At last she thought to herself you can surely show that you are not too homely to speak to a noble gentleman, Elsalil. For you are a maiden of good birth and no fish alas. I was but telling of the great butchery at Sulberja parsonage, said Elsalil. There are so many who have heard that story. Yes, said the stranger. But I did not know till now that any of her arnes household had escaped alive. Then Elsalil told once more of the wild robbers deed. She spoke of how the old serving men had gathered about her arne to protect him, and how her arne himself had snatched his sword from the wall and pressed upon the robbers. But they had overcome them all. And the old mistress had taken up her husband's sword and set upon the robbers. But they had only laughed at her and felled her to the floor with a billet of wood. And all the other women had crouched against the wall of the stove. But when the men were dead the robbers came and pulled them down and slew them. The last they slew, said Elsalil, was my dear foster sister. She begged for life so picturesly, and two of them would have let her live. But the third said that all must die and he thrust his knife into her heart. While Elsalil was speaking of murder and blood the three men stood still before her. They did not exchange a glance with each other, but their ears grew long with listening, and their eyes sparkled, and sometimes their lips parted, so that the teeth glistened. Elsalil's eyes were full of tears. Not once did she look up whilst she was speaking. She did not see that the man before her had the eyes and teeth of a wolf. Only when she had finished speaking did she dry her eyes and look up at him. But when he met Elsalil's glance his face changed in an instant. Since you have seen the murderers, so well mistress, said he, you would doubtless know them again if you met them. I have no more than seen them by the light of the brands they snatched from the earth to light their murdering, said Elsalil. But with God's help I'll surely know them again, and I pray to God daily that I may meet them. What mean you by that, mistress? asked the stranger. Is it not true that the murderers vagavons are dead? Indeed, I have heard so, said Elsalil. The peasants who set out after them followed their tracks from the parsonage down to a hole in the ice. Thus far they saw tracks of sledge runners upon the smooth ice, tracks of a horse's hooves, tracks of men with heavy nail boots. But beyond the hole no tracks led on across the ice, and therefore the peasants supposed them all dead. And do you not believe them dead, Elsalil? Ask the stranger. Oh yes. I think they must be drowned, said Elsalil. And yet I pray to God daily that they may have escaped. I speak to God in this wise. Let it be so that they have only driven the horse and sledge into the hole, but have themselves escaped. Why do you wish this, Elsalil? Ask the stranger. The tender made Elsalil she flung back her head and her eyes shown like fire. I would they were alive that I might find them out and seize them. I would they were alive that I might tear their hearts out. I would they were alive that I might see their bodies quartered and spiked upon the wheel. How do you think to bring all this about? Said the stranger. For you are only a weak little maid. If they were living, said Elsalil, I should surely bring their punishment upon them. Rather would I go to my death than let them go free. Strong and mighty they may be. I know it, but they would not be able to escape me. At this the stranger smiled upon her. But Elsalil stamped her foot. If they were living, should I not remember that they have taken my home from me, so that I am now a poor lass compelled to stand here on the cold cave and clean fish? Should I not remember that they have slain all those near to me? And should I not remember most of all the man who plucked my foster sister from the wall and slew her who was so dear to me? But when the tender little maid gave proof of such great wrath, the three Scottish campaigners burst out laughing. So full of merriment were they that they went off lest Elsalil might take offence. They walked across the harbour and up a narrow alley which led to the marketplace. But long after they were out of sight, Elsalil heard their roars of loud and scornful laughter. End of chapter 2 of The Treasure by Selmalagelöv read by Lars Rolander. Chapter 3 of The Treasure by Selmalagelöv 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 Treasure by Selmalagelöv translated from the Swedish by author G. Chater. Chapter 3 The Messenger A week after his death Hörane was buried in Solbärja church and on the same day an inquest was held upon the murder in the Assais house at Branehög. Now Hörane's fame was such throughout Boersland and so many people came together on the day of his funeral both from the mainland and the islands that it was as though an army had assembled about its leader. And so great a concourse moved between Solbärja church and Branehög that toward evening not an inch of snow could be seen that had not been trampled by men's feet. But late in the evening when all had gone their ways came Turarin the fishhawker driving along the road from Branehög to Solbärja. Turarin had talked with many men in the course of the day. Again and again had he told the story of her arna's death. He had been well entertained to at this size and had been made to empty many a mug of ale with travelers from afar. Turarin felt dull and heavy and lay down upon his load. It saddened him to think that her arna was gone and as he approached the parsonage a yet more grievous thought began to torment him. Grimm my dog he said had I believed that warning of the knives I might have warded of the whole disaster. I often think of that Grimm my dog it is quite my spirit I feel as though I had had a part in taking her arna's life. Now remember what I say next time I hear such a thing I will hold it true and be guided by it. Now while Turarin lay dosing upon his load with eyes half closed his horse went on as he pleased and on coming to Sulbaria parsonage he turned into the yard from old habit and went up to the stable door. Turarin being all unwitting. Only with the stopping of the sledge did he rise up and look about him and then he fell a shuddering when he saw that he was in the yard of a house where so many people had been murdered no more than a week before. He ceased the reins at once to turn his horse and drive into the road again. But at that moment he felt a hand upon his shoulder and looked round. Beside him stood old all of the groom who had served at the parsonage as long as Turarin could remember. Have you such a haste to leave our house tonight Turarin? Said the man. Let be in coming doors her arna sits there waiting for you. A thousand thoughts came into Turarin's head he knew not whether he was dreaming or away. All of the groom whom he saw standing alive and well beside him he had seen a week before lying dead amongst the others with a great wound in his throat. Turarin took a firmer hold of the reins he thought the best thing for him was to make off as soon as he could. But all of the groom's hand still lay upon his shoulder and the old fellow gave him no peace. Turarin racked his brains to find an excuse. I had no thought of coming to disturb her arna so late in the evening said he. My horse turned in here whilst I was unaware. I will go now and find a lodging for the night. If her arna wishes to see me I can welcome again tomorrow. With this Turarin bent forward and struck his horse with a slack of the reins to make him move off. But at the same instant the parson's man was at the horse's head he caught him by the bridle and forced him to stand still. Sees your obstinacy Turarin said the man. Heran is not yet gone to bed. Is it's waiting for you and you should know full well that you can have as good a night's lodging here as anywhere in the parish. Turarin was about to answer that he could not be served with lodging in a ruthless house. But before speaking he raised his eyes to the dwelling house and then he saw that the old timbre hall stood unhorned and stately as before the fire. And yet that very morning Turarin had seen the naked rafters thrusting out into the air. He looked and looked and rubbed his eyes but there was no doubt of it. The parsonage stood there unharmed with thatch and snow upon its roof. He saw smoke and sparks streaming up through the louver and rays of light gleaming through the ill-closed shutters upon the snow. A man who travels far and wide on the cold highways knows no better sight than the gleam that steals out of a warm room. But the sight made Turarin even more terrified than before. He whipped up his horse till he reared and kicked but not a step would he go from the stable door. Come in with me Turarin said the groom. I thought you had enough remorse already over this business. Then Turarin remembered the promise he had made himself on the road and though a moment before he had stood up and lashed his horse furiously he was now meek as a lamb. Well, all of groom, here am I. He said and sprang down from the sledge. It is true that I wish to have no more remorse over this business. Take me in to her arna. But it was with the heaviest steps he had ever known that Turarin went across the yard to the house. When the door was open Turarin closed his eyes to avoid looking into the room but he tried to take heart by thinking of her arna. He has given you many a good meal. He has bought your fish even when his own larder was full. He has always shown you kindness in his lifetime and assuredly he will not harm you after death. May have he has a service to ask of you. You must not forget Turarin that we are to show gratitude for the dead as to the living. Turarin opened his eyes and looked down the room. He saw the great hall just as he had seen it before. He recognized the high brick stove and the woven tapestress that hung upon the walls. But he glanced many times from wall to wall before daring to raise his eyes to the table and the bench where her arna had been want to sit. At last he looked there and then he saw her arna himself sitting in the flesh at the head of the table. With his wife on one side and his curate on the other as he had seen him a week before. He seemed to have just finished his meal. The dish was thrust away and his spoon lay on the table before him. All the old men and women servants were sitting at the table. But only one of the young mates. Turarin stood still a long time by the door and watched them that sat at table. They all looked anxious and mournful and even her arna was gloomy as the rest and supported his head in his hand. At last Turarin saw him raise his head. Have you brought a stranger into the house with you all of groom? Yes, answered the man. It is Turarin the fish-hawker who has been this day at this size at Brane Heranus looks seem to grow more cheerful at this and Turarin heard him say Come forward then Turarin and give us news of the size. I have sat here and waited for half the night. All this had such a real and natural air that Turarin began to feel more and more courageous. He walked quite boldly across the room to Herane asking himself whether the murder was not an evil dream and whether Herane was not in truth alive. But as Turarin crossed the room his eyes from old habit sought the forepost bed beside which the great money chest used to stand. But the ironbound chest was no longer in its place and when Turarin saw that a shudder again passed through him. Now Turarin is to tell us how things went at this size today said Herane. Turarin tried to do as he was bit and tell of the size and the inquis but he could command neither his lips nor his tongue and his speech was faulty and stammering so that Herane stopped him at once. Tell me only the main thing Turarin were our murderers found and punished. No Herane, Turarin had the boldness to answer. Your murderers lie at the bottom of Hakefjord. How would you have any take revenge on them? When Turarin returned this answer Herane's old temper seemed to be kindled within him and he smote the table hard. What is it that you say Turarin? Has the governor of Bors been here with judges and clerks and held a size and has no man had the wit to tell him where he may find my murderers? No Herane answer Turarin. None among the living can tell him that. Herane sat a while with a frown on his brow staring dismally before him. Then he turned once more to Turarin. I know that you bear me affection Turarin. Can you tell me how I may be revenge upon my murderers? I can well understand Herane, sa Turarin, that you wish to be revenge upon those who so cruelly have deprived you of your life, but there is none amongst us who walk God's earth that can help you in this. Herane fell into a deep broading when he heard this answer. There was a long silence, after a while Turarin ventured to put forward a request. I have now fulfilled your desire Herane and told you how it went at this size. Have you ought else to ask me or will you now let me go? You are not to go Turarin, said Herane, until you have answered me once more. Whether none of the living can give us vengeance. Not if all men in Boeslen and Norway came together to be revenge upon your murderers, would they be able to find them, said Turarin. Then, said Herane, if the living cannot help us, we must help ourselves. With this Herane began in a loud voice to say a paternoster, not in Norse, but in Latin, as had been the juice of the country before his time. And as he uttered each word of the prayer, he pointed with his finger at one of those who sat with him at the table. He went through them all in this way many times, until he came to Amen. And as he spoke this word his finger pointed at the young maid, who was his niece. The young maid rose at once from the bench, and Herane said to her, you know what you have to do. Then the young maiden lamented and said, do not send me upon this seron, it is too heavy a charge to lay upon, so tender a maid as I. You shall assuredly go, said Herane. It is right that you go, since you have most to revenge. None of us has been robbed of so many years of life as you, who are the youngest among us. I desire not to be revenge of any man, said the maiden. You are to go at once, said Herane, and you will not be alone. You know that there are two among the living who sat with us here at table a week ago. But when Turarin heard this word, he thought they meant that Herane charged him to contend with malefactors and murderers, and he cried out, by the mercy of God, I conjure you, Herane. At that moment it seemed to Turarin that both Herane and the parsonage vanished in a mist, and he himself sank down as though he had fallen from a didi hide, and with that he lost consciousness. When he came to himself again, dawn was breaking, and he saw that he was lying on the ground in the yard of Sulbaria parsonage. His horse stood beside him with a sledge, and grim barked and howled over him. It was all but a dream, said Turarin. Now I see that. The house is deserted and inruined. I have seen neither Herane nor any other. But I was so startled by the dream that I fell off the load. End of chapter three of the treasure by Selmalagelo. Red by Lars Rolander. Chapter four of the treasure by Selmalagelo. 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 treasure by Selmalagelo. Translated from the Swedish by Arthur G. Chaitre. Chapter four in the moonlight. When Herane had been dead a fortnight, there came some nights of clear bright moonlight, and one evening Turarin 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, marked upon what looked like a wide and open plain, above which rose a number of rocky knolls. The whole track 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. Grimm, my dog, said Turarin. If we saw this tonight for the first time, we should think we were driving over a great heat. But still we should wonder that the ground was so even, and the road free from stones and ruts. What sort of track 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 want to draw their black furrows through the white fields, even in the hardest frost? Turarin was delighted with these fancies, and Grimm too found pleasure in them. He did not move from his place on the load, but lay still and blinked. But just as Turarin had finished speaking, he drove past a lofty pole to which a broom was fastened. If we were strangers here, Grimm, my dog, said Turarin, we might well ask ourselves what sort of heat 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 homes and scaries parted by the rolling waves? No, we should never believe it was possible, Grimm, my dog. Turarin laughed and Grimm still lay quiet and did not stir. Turarin 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. Grimm, 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 will 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. Turarin stayed still a while longer as he gaste at a great vessel which lay frozen in. She looked altogether out of place as she lay with the smooth and even snow fields all about her. But when Turarin saw a thin column of smoke rising from the vessel's poop, he drove up and hailed the skipper to here if he would buy his fish. He had bought 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 onto the ice Turarin 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 Turarin. For well night 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 eyes in a bay near Mushtrumb, just as he was ready to put to sea, gave Turarin a sharp look and said, So then you call this fine weather? What should I call it else? said Turarin, 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 look black and glum. He made no answer to all Turarin's chat. Then Turarin began asking him why he never found his way to Mushtrumb. It is no more than an hours walk over the ice, said Turarin. But again he received no answer. Turarin could see that the man fared to leave his ship an instant, lest he might not be at hand when the ice broke up. Seldom have I seen ice so sick with longing, thought Turarin. But the skipper who had been held icebound among the scaries day after day, unable to hoist his sails and put to sea, have been busy the while with many thoughts. And he said to Turarin, 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, Turarin 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 harbor 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 windbound 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. Turarin var silent a while, 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 scaries. Why do you not come into mushroom? I can tell you there is a merry life with hundreds of strangers in the town. They have not else to do but drink and dance. How can it be, they are so merry there? Ask the skipper. Oh, said Turarin, 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 their chance of making merry? Ah, it may well be that they can divert themselves, but as for me I have a mind to stay out here. Turarin 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 merries more than I or any other can do, thought Turarin. Again the skipper began of his own accord to ask a question. These Scotsman, he said, are they honest folk? Is it you may be that are to take them over to Scotland? Ask Turarin. Well, said the skipper, I have a cargo for Edinburgh, and one of them was here but now and ask 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 all of them? Think you I may venture to take them? I have heard no more of them but they are brave men. I doubt not, but you may safely take them. But no sooner had Turarin said this than his dog rose from the sledge through his nose in the air and began to howl. Turarin broke off his praises of the Scotsman at once. What else you now grimm 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. Turarin drew in Tomashtran by the narrow channel between Kloeverö and Kue. When he had come within sight of the town, he noticed that he was not alone on the eyes. 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. Hello, said Turarin to himself. There goes Sir Archie, the leader of the Scots who has been out this evening to bespeak a passage to Scotland. Turarin was so near to the man that he drove into the long shadow that followed him. His horses' hooves were just touching the shadow of the hat blooms. Grimm, said Turarin, shall we ask if he will drive with us to Mashtran? The dog began to bristle up at once, but Turarin laid his hand upon his back. Be quiet Grimm, my dog, I can see that you have no love for the Scotsman. Sir Archie had not noticed that anyone was so close to him. He walked on without looking round. Turarin turned very quietly to one side in order to pass him. But at that moment Turarin saw behind the Scottish gallant something that looked like another shadow. He saw something long and thin and grey, 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 grey shadow glided on behind him so near that it seemed as though it would whisper something in his ear. Turarin 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 Turarin drove past, he turned about and looked behind him as though aware of someone following. Turarin saw plainly that behind Sir Archie stole a young man in a long grey 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 hurred forward and made as though she would whisper in his ear. But when Turarin 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 sweet to the door of his cabin. End of chapter 4 of The Treasure by Selmalagelöv, read by Lars Rolander. Chapter 5 of The Treasure by Selmalagelöv This is a LibriVox recording or LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org reading by Lars Rolander. The Treasure by Selmalagelöv translated from the Swedish by Arthur D. Chater. Chapter 5 Haunted The town with all its houses and buildings stood upon that side of Maastrand island which looked to landward and was protected by a wreath of homes and islets. There people swarmed in its streets and alleys. There lay the harbour full of ships and boats, the case with folk-piscic 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 Maastrand island which looked westward to the sea, unguarded by aisles or scaries, there was nothing but bare and barren rocks and ragged headlands thrust out into the waves. Heathered 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. Turarins cabins 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 Elsalil 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 Maastrand used to pass Turarins cabin to climb the rocks and look for any sign of the ice parting in the coves and sounds. Elsalil 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 wild world on which to fix my hopes. One evening Elsalil 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 Elsalil knew at once that the man was Sir Archie, the leader of the Scots, who had talked with her on the cave. As he passed the cabin on his way home to the town, Elsalil 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 Elsalil, 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 Elsalil, and began to talk to her of his home. And Elsalil 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 Elsalil 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 Elsalil. He simply gave her his hand in farewell, and hurred away. But Thorarin's mother said to Elsalil, 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? Elsalil astonished. Yes, answered the old woman. As I stood at work on the K 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? Elsalil. I heeded her not so closely that I can tell you how she looked. Said the old woman. But one thing I marching went so lightly upon the snow that not a sound was heard. When Elsalil 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. Another time Sir Archie sat in Thorarin's cabin and talked with Elsalil. There was no one beside them, they talked gaily together and were very cheerful. Sir Archie was telling Elsalil 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. Elsalil sat silent listening to every word Sir Archie said to her, and she believed them all. And Sir Archie thought that never had he met a downsel so easy to be gill as Elsalil. Suddenly Sir Archie ceased speaking and looked down at his left hand. What is it Sir Archie? Why do you say no more? Asked Elsalil. Sir Archie opened and closed his hand convulsively. He turned it this way and that. What is it Sir Archie? Asked Elsalil. Does your hand pain you on a sudden? Then Sir Archie turned to Elsalil with a startled face and said, Do you see this hair Elsalil that is wound about my hand? Do you see this look 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 Elsalil 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 Elsalil, I can feel it. It lies soft and cool about my hand, but when did it come? The maid sat staring at his hand, and it seemed that her eyes would fall out over 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 Elsalil, we are frightening ourselves like little children. It was nothing more than a bright sun beam falling through the window. But the girl fell to weeping and said, now me thinks I'm crouching again by the stove, and I can see the murderers at their work. Ah, but I hope 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 Elsalil 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 Elsalil, she stood before Sir Archie with clenched fists. You cannot meet the man, said Sir Archie, he's 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. 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 Elsalil. If he danced all night at the wars, 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 faint 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 cast 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 not else but this one thing. It is as though a mason sat within my heart and chiseled 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 grieve 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 comrade say of me if they knew I yielded to these unmanligt 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 to warm 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 Elsalil 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 girls fly about the tables, trying to snatch the fish out of my hands. Oh, that's someone would come and take me away from here. I would follow him to the world's end. When Elsalil had reached the darkest part of the lane, Sir Reginald and Sir Philip came out of the shadow and greeted her. Mistress Elsalil, they said, we have a message for you from Sir Archie. He's lying sick at the inn. He longs to speak with you and begs you to accompany us home. Elsalil 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 Elsalil. Elsalil 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 Elsalil 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 Elsalil. 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. Elsalil 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 faster if you stook down and pick it up. You can throw it far away if it is nothing. She stook 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 shined so white in the moonlight. At that moment they were passing one of the great storehouses, where foreign fisher fork lodged while they lay at Maschrande, 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. Elsalil held up the coin to the lantern, and hardly had she cast eye upon it when she cried out, This is her honest money. I know it well. This is her honest money. What's that you say, Mistress? Asked Sir Reginald. What makes you say it is her earnest money? I know the coin, said Elsalil. I have often seen it in her honest hand. Yes, it is surely her honest money. Shout not so loudly, Mistress, said Sir Philip. People run here already to know the cause of this outcry. But Elsalil 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. Elsalil hastened in to them holding the coin aloft. Listen to me every man, she cried. Now I know that her honest murderers are alive. Look here. I have found one of her honest coins. All the men turned toward her. She saw that Turarin the fish-hawker sat among them. What is it that you tell us so noisly, my girl? Turarin asked. How can you know her honest money from any other? Well, may I know this very piece of silver from any other? Said Elsalil. It is old and heavy, and it is chipped at the edge. Her honor told us that it came from the time of the old kings of Norway, and never would he part with it when he counted out money to pay for his goods. Now you must tell us where you have found it, mistress, said another of the fisherman. I found it rolling before me in the streets, said Elsalil. One of the murderers has surely dropped it there. It may be as you say, said Turarin. But what can we do in this matter? We cannot find the murderers by this alone, that you know they have walked in one of our streets. The fishermen were agreed that Turarin had spoken wisely. They settled themselves again about the fire. Come home with me, Elsalil, said Turarin. This is not an hour for a young maid to run about the streets of the town. As Turarin said this, Elsalil looked about for her companions. But Sir Reginald and Sir Philip had stolen away without her noticing their departure. End of Chapter 5 of the Treasure by Selmalagelöv Red by Lars Rolander Chapter 6 of the Treasure by Selmalagelöv 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 Treasure by Selmalagelöv Translated from the Swedish by Arthur G. Chater Chapter 6 in the Townsellers One morning the hostess of the townsellers at Maastrand threw open her doors to sweep the steps and the lobby. And then she caught sight of a young maid sitting on one of the steps and waiting. She was dressed in a long grey garment which was fastened with a belt at the waist. Her hair was fair and it was neither bound nor braided but hung down on either side of her face. As the door opened she went down the steps into the lobby but it seemed to the hostess that she moved as though walking in her sleep and all the time she kept her eyelids lowered and her arms pressed close to her side. The nearer she came the more astonished was the hostess at the fragile slenderness of her form. Her face was fair but it was delicate and transparent as though it had been made of brittle glass. When she came down to the hostess she asked whether there was any work she could do and offered her services. Then the hostess thought of all the wild companions whose habit it was to see drinking ale and wine in her tavern and she could not help smiling. No, there is no place here for a little maid like you, she said. The maiden did not raise her eyes nor make the slightest movement but she asked again to be taken into service. She decided neither board nor wages, she said, only to have a task to perform. No, said the hostess, if my own daughter were as you are I should refuse her this. I wish you a better lot than to be servant here. The young maid went quietly up the steps and the hostess stood watching her. She looked so small and helpless that the woman took pity on her. She called her back and said to her maybe you run greater risks if you wander alone about the streets and alleys than if you come to me. You may stay with me today and wash the cups and dishes and then I shall see what you are fit for. The hostess took her to a little closet she had contrived beyond the hall of the tavern. It was no bigger than a cupboard and had neither window nor loophole but was only lighted by a hatch in the wall of the public room. Stand here today, said the hostess to the maid and wash me all the cups and dishes I have passed you through this hatch. Then I shall see whether I can keep you in my service. The maiden went into the closet and she moved so silently that the hostess thought it was like a dead woman slipping into her grave. She stood the whole day and spoke to nun nor even leaned her head through the hatch to look at the fork who came and went in the tavern and she did not touch the food that was set before her. Nobody heard her make a clatter as she washed but whenever the hostess held out her hand to the hatch she passed out clean cups and dishes without a speck on them. But when the hostess took them to set them out on the table they were so cold that she thought they would sear the skin of her fingers and she shuddered and said it is as though I took them from the cold hands of death himself. One day there had been no fish to clean on the case so that El-Salil had stayed at home. She sat at the spinning wheel and was alone in the cottage. A good fire was burning on the hearth and it was light enough in the room. In the midst of her work she felt a light breath as though a cold breath had swept over her forehead. She looked up and saw her dead foster sister standing beside her. El-Salil laid her hand on the wheel to stop it and sat still looking at her foster sister. At first she was afraid but she thought to herself it is unworthy of me to be afraid of my foster sister. Whether she be dead or alive I am still glad to see her. Dear sister she said to the dead girl is there ought you would have me too. The other said to her in a voice that had neither strength nor tone My sister El-Salil I am in service at the tavern and the hostess has made me stand and wash cups and dishes all day. Now the evening is come and I am so tired that I can hold out no longer. I have come hither to ask if you will not give me your help. When El-Salil heard this it was though a veil was drawn over her mind. She could no longer think nor wonder nor feel any fear. She only knew joy at seeing her foster sister again and she answered Yes dear sister I will come straight and help you. Then the dead girl went to the door and El-Salil followed her. But as they stood on the threshold her foster sister paused and said to El-Salil You must put on your cloak there is a strong wind outside. And as she said this her voice sounded clearer and less muffled than before. El-Salil then took her cloak from the wall and wrapped it around her. She thought to herself my foster sister loves me still. She wishes me no evil. I am only happy that I may go with her wherever she may take me. And then she followed the dead girl through many streets all the way from Torarins cabin which stood on a rocky slope down to the level streets about the harbor and the marketplace. The dead girl always walked two paces in front of El-Salil. A heavy gale was blowing that evening howling through the streets and El-Salil noticed that when a violent gust would have flung her against the wall the dead girl placed herself between her and the wind and screened her as well as she could with her slender body. When at last they came to the town hall the dead girl went down the cellar steps and beckoned El-Salil to follow her. But as they were going down the wind blew out the light in the lantern that hung in the lobby and they were in darkness. Then El-Salil did not know where to turn her steps and the dead girl hade put her hand on hers to lead her. But the dead girl's hand was so cold that El-Salil started and began to quake with fear. Then the dead girl drew her hand away and wound it in a corner of El-Salil's cloak before she led her on again. But El-Salil felt the icy chill through fur and lining. Now the dead girl led El-Salil through a long corridor and opened a door for her. They came into a little dark closet where a feeble light fell through a hatch in the wall. El-Salil saw that they were in a room where the scullery went stood and scored cups and dishes for the hostess to set out on the tables for her customers. El-Salil could just see that a pale of water stood upon a stool and in the hatch were many cups and goblets that wanted rinsing. Will you help me with this work tonight, El-Salil? said the dead girl. Yes, dear sister, said El-Salil. You know I will help you with whatsoever you wish. El-Salil then took off her cloak, rolled up her sleeves and began the work. Will you be very quiet and silent in here, El-Salil, so that the hostess may not know that I have found help? Yes, dear sister, said El-Salil. You may be sure I will. Then farewell El-Salil, said the dead girl. I have only one more thing to ask of you and it is that you be not too angry with me for this thing. Wherefore do you bid me farewell, said El-Salil? I will gladly come every evening and help you. No, there is no need for you to come after this evening, said the dead girl. I have good hope that tonight you will give me such help that my mission will now be ended. As they spoke thus, El-Salil was already leaning over her work. All was still for a while, but then she felt a light breath on her forehead, as when the dead girl had come to her in Torarin's cabin. She looked up and saw that she was alone. Then she knew what it was that had felt like a faint breeze upon her face and said to herself, my dead foster sister has kissed my forehead before she parted from me. El-Salil now turned to her work and finished it. She rinsed out all the bowls and tankards and dried them. Then she looked in the hatch whether any more had been set in there and finding none she stood at the hatch and looked out into the tavern. It was an hour of the day when there was usually a little custom in the cellars. The hostess was absent from her bar and none of her tapsters was to be seen in the room. The place was empty, say for three men who sat at the end of a long table. They were guests, but they seemed well at their ease for one of them who had emptied his tankard went to the bar, filled it from one of the great tons of ale and wine that stood there and sat down again to drink. El-Salil felt as though she had come here from a strange world. Her thoughts were with her dead foster sister and she could not clearly take in what she saw. It was a long while before she was aware that the three men at the table were well known and dear to her. For they who sat there were none other than Sir Archie and his two friends Sir Reginald and Sir Philip. For some days passed Sir Archie had not visited El-Salil and she was glad to see him. She was on the point of calling to him that she was there at hand. But then the thought came to her how strange it was that he had ceased to visit her and she kept silence. Maybe his fanciest turn to another thought El-Salil. Maybe it is of her he is thinking. For Sir Archie sat a little apart from the others. He was silent and gazed steadily before him without touching his drink. He took no part in the talk and when his friends addressed a word to him he was seldom at the pains to make them an answer. El-Salil could hear that the others were trying to put life into him. They asked him why he had left drinking and even sought to persuade him that he should go and talk with El-Salil and so recover his good humor. You are to pay no heed to me said Sir Archie. There is another that fills my thoughts. Still do I see her before me and still do I hear the sound of her voice in my ears. And then El-Salil saw that Sir Archie was gazing at one of the massive pillars that upheld the cellarove. She saw too what till then she had not marked that her foster sister stood beside that pillar and looked upon Sir Archie. She stood there quite motionless in her gray habit and it was not easy to discover her as she stood so close against the pillar. El-Salil stood quite still looking into the room. She noted that her foster sister kept her eyes raised when she looked upon Sir Archie. During the whole time she was with El-Salil she had walked with her eyes upon the ground. Now her eyes were the only thing about her that was ghastly. El-Salil saw that they were dim and filmed. They had no glance and the light was not mirrored in them anymore. After a while Sir Archie began again to lament. I see her every hour. She follows me wherever I go, he said. He sat with his face toward the pillar where the dead girl stood and stared at her. But El-Salil was sure that he did not see her. It was not of her he spoke but a one who was ever in his thoughts. El-Salil never left the hatch and followed with her eyes all that took place thinking that most of all she wished to find out who it was that filled Sir Archie's thoughts. Suddenly she was aware that the dead girl had taken her place on the bench beside Sir Archie and was whispering in his ear. But still Sir Archie knew nothing of her being so close to him or of her whispering in his ear. He was only aware of her presence in the mortal dread that came over him. El-Salil saw that when the dead girl had sat for a few moments whispering to Sir Archie he hid his face in his hands and wept. Alas, would I had never found the maid, he said. I regret nothing else but that I did not let the maid and go when she begged me. The other two Scotsmen ceased drinking and looked in alarm at Sir Archie who thus laid aside all his manliness and yielded to remorse. For a moment they were perplexed but then one of them went up to the bar, took the tallest tankard that stood there and filled it with red wine. He brought it to Sir Archie, clapped him on the shoulder and said Drink, brother, her arnes horre is not yet done. So long as we have coined to buy such wine as this, no cares need sit upon us. But in the same instant as these words were spoken Drink, brother, her arnes horre is not yet done. El-Salil saw the dead girl rise from the bench and vanish. And in that moment El-Salil saw before her eyes three men with great beards and rough coats of skin, struggling with her arnes servants. And now it was plain to her that they were the three who sat in the cellar, Sir Archie, Sir Philip and Sir Reginald. El-Salil came out of the closet where she had stood and rinsed the hostess' cups and softly closed the door behind her. In the narrow corridor outside she stopped and stood motionless leaning against the wall for nearly an hour. As she stood there she thought to herself I cannot betray him, let him be guilty of what evil he may. I love him with all my heart. I cannot send him to be broken upon the wheel. I cannot see them burn away his hands and feet. The storm that had raged all day became more and more violent as evening wore on, and El-Salil could hear its roar as she stood in the darkness. Now the first storms of spring have come, she thought. Now they have come in all their might to set the watchers free and break up the eyes. In a few days we shall have open sea, and then Sir Archie will sail from hence never to return. No more misdeeds can he commit in this land. What profits it then if he be taken and suffer for his crime? Neither the dead nor the living have any comfort of it. El-Salil drew her cloak about her. She thought she would go home and sit quietly at her work without betraying her secret to anyone. But before she had raised the foot to go she changed her purpose and stayed. She stood still listening to the roaring of the gale. Again she thought of the coming of spring. The snow would disappear, and the earth put on its garment of green. Merciful heaven, what a spring will this be for me? thought El-Salil. No joy and no happiness can bloom for me after the chills of this winter. No more than a year ago I was so happy when winter was passed and spring came, she thought. I remember one evening which was so fair that I could not sit within doors, so I took my foster sister by the hand and we went out into the fields to fetch green bows and deck the stove. She recalled to mind how she and her foster sister had walked along a green pathway, and there by the side of the way they had seen a young birch that had been cut down. The wood showed that it had been cut many days before, but now they saw that the poor looped tree had begun to put forth leaves and its buds were bursting. Then her foster sister had stopped and bent over the tree. Ah, poor tree, she said. What evil can you have done that you are not suffered to die though you are cut down? What makes you put forth leaves as though you still lived? And El-Salil had laughed at her and answered. Maybe it grows so sweet and green that he who cut it down may see the harm he has wrought and feel remorse. But her foster sister did not laugh with her and there were tears in her eyes. It is terrible for a dead man if he cannot rest in his grave. They who are dead have small comfort to look for. Neither love nor happiness can reach them. All the good they yet desire is that they may be left to sleep in peace. Well, may I weep when you say this birch cannot die for thinking of its murderer. The hardest fate for one depred of life is that he may not sleep in peace but must pursue his murderer. The dead have not too long for but to be left to sleep in peace. When El-Salil recalled these words she began to weep and wring her hands. My foster sister will not find rest in her grave, she said, unless I betray my beloved. If I do not aid her in this she must roam above ground without respite or respose. My poor foster sister she has nothing more to hope for but to find peace in her grave and that I cannot give her unless I send the man I love to be broken on the wheel. Srirachi came out of the tavern and went through the long corridor, the lantern hanging from the roof had now been lighted again and by its light he saw that a young maid stood leaning against the wall. She was so pale and stood so still that Srirachi was afraid and thought there at last before my eye stands the dead girl who haunts me every day. As Srirachi went past El-Salil he laid his hand on hers to feel if it was really a dead girl standing there and her hand was so cold that he could not say whether it belonged to the living or the dead. But as Srirachi touched El-Salil's hand she drew it back and then Srirachi knew her again. He thought she had come there for his sake and great was his joy to see her. At once a thought came to him now I know what I will do that the dead girl may be appeased and cease to haunt me. He took El-Salil's hands within his own and raised them to his lips. God bless you for coming to me this evening El-Salil, he said. But El-Salil's heart was sore afflicted. She could not speak for tears even so much as to tell Srirachi she had not come there to meet him. Srirachi stood silent a long while but he held El-Salil's hands in his the whole time and the longer he stood thus the clearer and more handsome did his face become. El-Salil said Srirachi and he spoke very earnestly. For many days I have not been able to see you because I have been tormented by heavy thoughts. They have left me no peace and I believe I should soon go out of my mind. But tonight it goes better with me and I no longer see before me the image that tormented me. And when I found you here my heart told me what I had to do to be rid of my torment for all time. He bent down to look into El-Salil's eyes but as she stood with drooping eyelids he went on. You are angry with me El-Salil because I have not been to see you for many days but I could not come for when I saw you I was reminded even more of what tortured me. When I saw you I was forced to think even more of a young maid to whom I have done wrong. Many others have I wronged in my lifetime El-Salil but my conscience plagues me for not else but what I did to this young maid. As El-Salil still said nothing he took her hands again and raised them to his lips and kissed them. Now listen El-Salil to what my heart said to me when I saw you standing here and waiting for me. You have done injury to one maiden it said and for what you have made her suffer you must add to to another. You shall take her to wife and you shall be so good to her that she shall never know sorrow. Such faithfulness shall you show her that your love will be greater on the day of your death than on your wedding day. El-Salil stood still as before with down cast eyes then Sarachi laid his hand on her head and raised it. You must tell me El-Salil whether you hear what I say he said. Then he saw that El-Salil was weeping so violently that great tears ran down her cheeks. Why do you weep El-Salil? asked Sarachi. I weep Sarachi, said El-Salil, because I have too great love for you in my heart. Then Sarachi came yet closer to El-Salil and put his arm around her. Do you hear how the wind howls without, said he. That means that soon the eyes will break up and that ships again will be free to sail over to my native land. Tell me now El-Salil, will you come with me so that I may make good to you the evil I have done to another. Sarachi continued to whisper to El-Salil of the glorious life that awaited her and El-Salil began to think to herself. Alas, if only I did not know what evil he had done then I would go with him and live happily. Sarachi came closer and closer to her and when El-Salil looked up she saw that his face was bending over her and that he was about to kiss her on the forehead. Then she remembered the dead girl who had so lately been with her and kissed her. She tore herself free from Sarachi and said, No, Sarachi, I will never go with you. Yes, said Sarachi, you must come with me El-Salil or else I shall be drawn down to my destruction. He began to whisper to the girl ever more tenderly and again she thought herself. Were it not more pleasing to God and men that he be allowed to atone for his evil life and become a righteous man? Whom can it profit if he be punished with death? As these thoughts were in El-Salil's mind two men came by on their way to the tavern. When Sarachi marked that they cast Cure's eyes on him and the maid he said to her, Come El-Salil, I will take you home. I would not that any should see you had come to the tavern for me. Then El-Salil looked up as though suddenly calling to mind that she had another duty to perform than that of listening to Sarachi. But her heart smote her when she thought of betraying his crime. If you deliver him to the hangman, I must break, her heart said to her. And Sarachi drew the girl's cloak more tightly about her and led her out into the street. He walked with her all the way to Torarin's cabin and she noticed that whenever the storm blew fiercely in their faces, he placed himself before her and screamed her. El-Salil thought all the time they were walking. My dead foster sister knew nothing of this, that he would atone for his crime and become a good man. Sarachi still whispered the tenderest words in El-Salil's ear and the longer she listened to him, the more firmly she believed in him. It must have been that I might hear Sarachi whisper such words as these in my ear, that my foster sister called me forth, she thought. She loves me so dearly. She desires not my unhappiness, but my happiness. And as they stopped before the cabin, Sarachi asked El-Salil once more whether she would go with him across the sea. And El-Salil answered that with God's help she would go. END OF CHAPTER SIX OF THE TREASURE BY SELMA LAGELER Red by Lors Rolander