Chapter VI: Conclusion

What I said in jest, you took seriously.--_Old Spanish Romance
(King Alfonso to Bernard)._

For a fortnight the events which we have just related formed the sole topic of conversation in the town and province of Throndhjem, judged from the various standpoints of the various speakers. The people of the town, who had waited in vain to see seven successive executions, began to despair of ever having that pleasure; and purblind old women declared that, on the night of the lamentable fire at the barracks, they had seen Hans of Iceland fly up in the flames, laughing amid the blaze, as he dashed the burning roof of the building upon the Munkholm musketeers; when, after an absence which to his Ethel seemed an age, Ordener returned to the Lion of Schleswig tower, accompanied by General Levin de Knud and Chaplain Athanasius Munder.

Schumacker was walking in the garden, leaning on his daughter. The young couple found it hard not to rush into each other’s arms; but they were forced to be content with a look. Schumacker affectionately grasped Ordener’s hand, and greeted the two strangers in a friendly manner.

“Young man,” said the aged captive, “may Heaven bless your return!”

“Sir,” replied Ordener, “I have just arrived. Having seen my father at Bergen, I would now embrace my father at Munkholm.”

“What do you mean?” asked the old man, in great surprise.

“That you must give me your daughter, noble sir.”

“My daughter!” exclaimed the prisoner, turning to the confused and blushing Ethel.

“Yes, my lord, I love your Ethel. I have devoted my life to her; she is mine.”

Schumacker’s face clouded: “You are a brave and noble youth, my son. Although your father has done me much harm, I forgive him for your sake; and I should be glad to sanction this marriage. But there is an obstacle--”

“What is it, sir?” asked Ordener, anxiously.

“You love my daughter; but are you sure that she loves you?”

The two lovers cast at each other a rapid glance of mute amazement.

“Yes,” continued the father. “I am sorry; for I love you, and would gladly call you son. But my daughter would never consent. She has recently confessed her aversion for you, and since your departure she is silent whenever I speak of you, and seems to avoid all thought of you as if you were odious to her. You must give up your love for her, Ordener. Never fear; love may be cured as well as hatred.”

“My lord!” exclaimed the astonished Ordener.

“Father!” cried Ethel, clasping her hands.

“Do not be alarmed, my daughter,” interrupted the old man; “I approve of this marriage, but you do not. I will never force your inclinations, Ethel. This last fortnight has wrought a great change in me; you are free to choose for yourself.”

Athanasius Munder smiled. “She is not,” he said.

“You are mistaken, dear father,” added Ethel, taking courage; “I do not hate Ordener.”

“What!” cried her father.

“I am--” resumed Ethel. She hesitated.

Ordener knelt at the old man’s feet.

“She is my wife, father! Forgive me as my other father has forgiven me, and bless your children.”

Schumacker, surprised in his turn, blessed the young couple.

“I have cursed so many people in my lifetime,” said he, “that I now seize every opportunity for blessing. But explain.”

All was made clear to him. He wept with emotion, gratitude, and love.

“I thought myself wise; I am old, and I did not understand the heart of a young girl!”

“And so I am Mrs. Ordener Guldenlew!” said Ethel, with child-like delight.

“Ordener Guldenlew,” rejoined old Schumacker, “you are a better man than I, for in the day of my prosperity I would never have stooped to wed the penniless and disgraced daughter of an unfortunate prisoner.”

The general took the old man’s hand, and offered him a roll of parchment, saying: “Do not speak thus, Count. Here are your titles, which the king long since sent you by Dispolsen; his Majesty now adds a free pardon. Such is the dowry of your daughter, Countess Danneskiold.”

“Pardon! freedom!” repeated the enraptured Ethel.

“Countess Danneskiold!” added her father.

“Yes, Count,” continued the general; “your honors and estates are restored.”

“To whom do I owe all this?” asked the happy Schumacker.

“To General Levin de Knud,” answered Ordener.

“Levin de Knud! Did I not tell you, Governor, that Levin de Knud was the best of men? But why did he not bring me the good news himself? Where is he?”

Ordener pointed in surprise to the smiling, weeping general: “Here!”

The recognition of the two who had been comrades in the days of their youth and power was a touching one. Schumacker’s heart swelled. His acquaintance with Hans had destroyed his hatred of men; his acquaintance with Ordener and Levin taught him to love them.

The gloomy wedding in the cell was soon celebrated by brilliant festivities. Life smiled upon the young couple who had smiled at death. Count d’Ahlefeld saw that they were happy; this was his most cruel punishment.

Athanasius Munder shared their joy. He obtained the pardon of his twelve convicts, and Ordener added that of his former companions in misfortune, Jonas and Norbith, who returned, free and happy, to inform the appeased miners that the king released them from the protectorate.

Schumacker did not long enjoy the union of Ethel and Ordener. Liberty and happiness were too much for him; he went to enjoy a different happiness and a different freedom. He died that same year, 1699, his children accepting this blow as a warning that there is no perfect bliss in this world. He was buried in Veer Church, upon an estate in Jutland belonging to his son-in-law, and his tomb preserves all the titles of which captivity deprived him. From the marriage of Ordener and Ethel sprang the race of the counts of Danneskiold.

THE END.

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THE

LAST DAYS OF A CONDEMNED.

FROM THE FRENCH OF