Chapter VII: Book THREE: The Emperor's Song (3)

As he put these queries to himself his glance fell upon a bit of gilt paper that lay glittering on the ground in front of him. But his mind was not on such things now. This must have been one of the paper stars he had borrowed of Mad Ingeborg. But he had not given a thought to this empty show since last autumn.

It kept getting hotter and hotter, and it was becoming more and more difficult to breathe. "The end is nearing," thought Jan. "Maybe it's just as well it wasn't too long coming."

A great sense of lassitude came over him. Unable to sit up any longer, he slipped down off the stone and stretched himself out on the ground. He felt it was hardly fair to Katrina not to let her know what was taking place. But Katrina had gone to the seine-maker's party and was not back yet. If he only had the strength to drag himself thither! He would have liked to say a word of farewell to Ol' Bengtsa, too. He was very glad when he presently saw Katrina coming down the lane, accompanied by the seine-maker. He wanted to call out to them to hurry, but not a sound could he get past his lips. Shortly afterward the two of them stood bending over him.

Katrina immediately ran for water and made him drink some; and then he got back just enough strength to tell them that the Last judgment was at hand.

"How you talk!" said Katrina. "The Last Judgment indeed! Why, you've got fever, man, and you're out of your head."

Then Jan turned to the seine-maker. "Can't you see either that the firmament is sinking and sinking?"

The latter did not give him any reply, but turned instead to Katrina, saying:

"This is pretty serious. I think we'll have to try the remedy we talked of on the way. I may as well go down to Falla at once."

"But Lars will never consent to it."

"Why you know that Lars has gone down to the tavern. I'm sure the old mistress of Falla will have the courage--"

Jan cut him short. He could not bear to hear them speak of commonplace matters when such momentous things were in the air.

"Stop talking," he said. "Don't you hear the last trump? Don't you hear the rumbling up in the mountains?"

They paused a moment and listened, just to please Jan. And then they, too, heard a strange noise.

"There's a wagon rattling along in the woods," said Katrina. "What on earth can that mean?"

As the rumbling noise grew more and more distinct, their astonishment increased.

"And it's Sunday, too!" observed Katrina. "Now if this were a weekday you could understand it; but who can it be that's out driving in the woods on a Sunday night?"

She listened again. Then she heard the scraping of wheels against stones and the clatter of hoofs along the steep forest road.

"Do you hear?" asked Jan. "Do you hear?"

"Yes, I hear," said Katrina. "But no matter who comes I've got to get the bed ready for you at once. It's that I have to think of."

"And I'm going down to Falla," said the seine-maker. "That's more important than anything else. Good-bye for the present."

The old man hurried away while Katrina went in to prepare the bed; she was hardly inside the door when the rattling noise, which she and the seine-maker believed was caused by a common wagon, sounded as if it were almost upon them. To Jan it was the rumble of heavy war chariots, at whose approach the whole earth trembled. He called in a loud voice to Katrina, who came out immediately.

"Dear heart, don't be so scared!" she said reassuringly. "I can see the horse now. It's the old bay from Falla. Sit up and you'll see it, too." Slipping her hand under Jan's neck she raised him to a sitting posture. Through the elder bushes at the edge of the road a horse could be seen running wildly in the direction of Ruffluck. "Don't you see it's only Lars Gunnarson driving home? He must have drunk himself full at the tavern, for he doesn't seem to know which way he's going."

When Katrina said that a horse and wagon dashed by their gate. Both she and Jan noticed that the wagon was empty and the horse driverless.

All at once she let out a shriek: "Lord deliver us! Did you see him, Jan? He's being dragged alongside the wagon!" Without waiting for a reply she rushed across the yard into the road, where the horse had just bolted past.

Jan let her go without a word. He was glad to be alone again. He had not yet found an answer to his query as to why the Empress was angry at him.

The bit of gilt paper now lay directly under his eyes. It glistened so that he had to look at it again and again. Meanwhile his thoughts went back to Mad Ingeborg--to the time when he had come upon her at the Borg landing. It struck him instantly that here was the answer he had been seeking. Now he knew what it was the little girl had been displeased about all this while. He had been unkind to Mad Ingeborg; he should never have refused to let her go along to Portugallia.

How could he ever have imagined anything so mean of the great Empress as that she would not want to have Mad Ingeborg with her! It was that kind that she liked best to help. No wonder she was angry! He ought to have known that the poor and unfortunate were always welcome in her kingdom.

There was very little that could be done in this matter if no to-morrow dawned, mused Jan. But what if there should be one? Ah, then he would go and talk with Mad Ingeborg first thing.

He closed his eyes and folded his hands. Anyway, it was a blissful relief to him that this anxiety had been stilled. Now it would not be nearly so hard to die. He had no idea as to how much time had elapsed before he again heard Katrina's voice close to him.

"Jan, dear, how do you feel now? You're not going to die and leave me, are you?"

Katrina sounded so doleful that he had to look up at her. Then he saw in her hand the imperial stick and the green leather cap.

"I asked the folks down at Falla to let me take these to you," she explained. "I told them that come what might it was better for you to have them again than to have you lose all interest in life."

"The dear little girl, the great Empress, isn't she wonderful!" Jan said to himself. No sooner had he come to a realization of his sin and promised to atone for it, than she again granted him her grace and her favour.

He had such a marvellous feeling of lightness, as if a great weight had been lifted from him. The firmament had raised itself and let in air, at the same time drawing away the excessive heat. He was able to sit up now and fumble for the imperial regalia.

"Now you can have them for good and all," said Katrina. "There'll be no one to come and take them away from you, for Lars Gunnarson is dead."

THE EMPEROR'S CONSORT

Katrina of Ruffluck Croft came into the kitchen at Lövdala Manor with some spun wool. Lady Liljecrona herself received the yarn, weighed it, paid for it, and commended the old woman for her excellent work.

"It's fortunate for you, Katrina, that you are such a good worker," said Lady Liljecrona. "I dare say you have to earn the living for both yourself and the husband nowadays."

Katrina drew herself up a bit and two pink spots came into her face, just over the sharp cheekbones.

"Jan does his best," she retorted, "but he has never had the strength of a common labourer."

"At any rate, he doesn't seem to be working now," said Lady Liljecrona. "I have heard that he only runs about from place to place, showing his stars and singing."

Lady Liljecrona was a serious-minded and dutiful woman who liked industrious and capable folk like Katrina of Ruffluck. She had sympathy for her and wanted to show it. But Katrina continued to stand up for her husband.

"He is old and has had much sorrow these last years. He has need of a little freedom, after a lifetime of hard toil."

"It's well you can take your misfortune so calmly," observed Lady Liljecrona somewhat sharply. "But I really think that you, with your good sense, should try to take out of Jan the ridiculous nonsense that has got into his head. You see, if this is allowed to go on it will end in his being shut up in a madhouse."

Now Katrina squared her shoulders and looked highly indignant.

"Jan is not crazy," she said. "But Our Lord has placed a shade before his eyes so he'll not have to see what he couldn't bear seeing. And for that one can only feel thankful."

Lady Liljecrona did not wish to appear contentious. She thought it only right and proper for a wife to stand by her husband.

"Then, Katrina, everything is all right as it is," she said pleasantly. "And don't forget that here you will find work enough to keep you going the year around."

And then Lady Liljecrona saw the stern, set old face in front of her soften and relax: all that had been bound in and held back gave way--grief and solicitude and love came breaking through, and the eyes overflowed.

"My only happiness is to work for him," said the old woman. "He has become so wonderful with the years that he's something more than just human. But for that I suppose they'll come and take him away from me."