Mogens and Other Stories | Page 8

went underneath it and looked up into its crown. She tripped from one side to the other, gesticulated with her hands and sang, and Mogens had to stand near the hazelbushes to see what sort of a figure he had cut. Suddenly Camilla ran towards him, but Mogens lost his cue, and forgot both to shriek and to run away, and then Camilla laughingly declared that she was very dissatisfied with herself and that she would not have had the boldness to remain standing there, when such a horrible creature--and she pointed towards herself--came rushing towards her. But Mogens declared that he was very well satisfied with himself.
When towards sunset he was going home the councilor and Camilla accompanied him a little way. And as they were going home she said to her father that perhaps they ought to invite that lonesome young man rather frequently during the month, while it was still possible to stay in the country. He knew no one here about, and the councilor said "yes," and smiled at being thought so guileless, but Camilla walked along and looked so gentle and serious, that one would not doubt but that she was the very personification of benevolence itself.
The autumn weather remained so mild that the councilor stayed on at Cape Trafalgar for another whole month, and the effect of the benevolence was that Mogens came twice the first week and about every day the third.
It was one of the last days of fair weather.
It had rained early in the morning and had remained overclouded far down into the forenoon; but now the sun had come forth. Its rays were so strong and warm, that the garden-paths, the lawns and the branches of the trees were enveloped in a fine filmy mist. The councilor walked about cutting asters. Mogens and Camilla were in a corner of the garden to take down some late winter apples. He stood on a table with a basket on his arm, she stood on a chair holding out a big white apron by the corners.
"Well, and what happened then?" she called impatiently to Mogens, who had interrupted the fairy-tale he was telling in order to reach an apple which hung high up.
"Then," he continued, "the peasant began to run three times round himself and to sing: 'To Babylon, to Babylon, with an iron ring through my head.' Then he and his calf, his great-grandmother, and his black rooster flew away. They flew across oceans as broad as Arup Vejle, over mountains as high as the church at Jannerup, over Himmerland and through the Holstein lands even to the end of the world. There the kobold sat and ate breakfast; he had just finished when they came.
"'You ought to be a little more god-fearing, little father,' said the peasant, 'otherwise it might happen that you might miss the kingdom of heaven.'"
"Well, he would gladly be god-fearing."
"'Then you must say grace after meals,' said the peasant. . . ."
"No, I won't go on with the story," said Mogens impatiently.
"Very well, then don't," said Camilla, and looked at him in surprise.
"I might as well say it at once," continued Mogens, "I want to ask you something, but you mustn't laugh at me."
Camilla jumped down from the chair.
"Tell me--no, I want to tell you something myself--here is the table and there is the hedge, if you won't be my bride, I'll leap with the basket over the hedge and stay away. One!"
Camilla glanced furtively at him, and noticed that the smile had vanished from his face.
"Two!"
He was quite pale with emotion.
"Yes," she whispered, and let go the ends of her apron so that the apples rolled toward all corners of the world and then she ran. But she did not run away from Mogens.
"Three," said she, when he reached her, but he kissed her nevertheless.
The councilor was interrupted among his asters, but the district-judge's son was too irreproachable a blending of nature and civilization for the councilor to raise objections.
* * *
It was late winter; the large heavy cover of snow, the result of a whole week's uninterrupted blowing, was in the process of rapidly melting away. The air was full of sunlight and reflection from the white snow, which in large, shining drops dripped down past the windows. Within the room all forms and colors had awakened, all lines and contours had come to life. Whatever was flat extended, whatever was bent curved, whatever was inclined slid, and whatever was broken refracted the more. All kinds of green tones mingled on the flower-table, from the softest dark-green to the sharpest yellow-green. Reddish brown tones flooded in flames across the surface of the mahogany table, and gold gleamed and sparkled from the knick-knacks, from the frames and moldings, but on the carpet all the colors broke