The Girl from the Marsh Croft. Lagerlöf Selma

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      Among other things which she read, there was an account of a fight that had taken place the night before, on the big square, between a gang of drunken farmers and some laborers. As soon as the police turned up, the fighters fled, but one of them lay dead on the square. The man was carried to the police station, and when no outward injury was found on him, they had tried to resuscitate him. But all attempts had been in vain, and at last they discovered that a knife-blade was imbedded in the skull. It was the blade of an uncommonly large clasp-knife that had pierced the brain and was broken off close to the head. The murderer had fled with the knife-handle, but as the police knew perfectly well who had been in the fight, they had hopes of soon finding him.

      While mother Ingeborg was reading this, Gudmund set down the coffee-cup, stuck his hand in his pocket, pulled out a clasp-knife, and glanced at it carelessly. But almost immediately he started, turned the knife over, and poked it into his pocket as quickly as though it had burned him. He did not touch the coffee after that, but sat a long while, perfectly still, with a puzzled expression on his face. His brows were contracted, and it was apparent that he was trying with all his might to think out something.

      Finally he stood up, stretched himself, yawned, and walked leisurely toward the door. "I'll have to bestir myself. I haven't been out of doors all day," he said, leaving the room.

      About the same time Erland Erlandsson also arose. He had smoked out his pipe, and now he went into the side room to get some tobacco. As he was standing in there, refilling his pipe, he saw Gudmund walking along. The windows of the side room did not, like those of the main room, face the yard, but looked out upon a little garden plot with a couple of tall apple trees. Beyond the plot lay a bit of swamp land where in the spring of the year there were big pools of water, but which were almost dried out in the summer. Toward this side it was seldom that any one went. Erland Erlandsson wondered what Gudmund was doing there, and followed him with his eyes. Then he saw that the son stuck his hand into his pocket, drew out some object, and flung it away in the morass. Thereupon he walked back across the little garden plot, leaped a fence, and went down the road.

      As soon as his son was out of sight, Erland, in his turn, betook himself, as he should have done, to the swamp. He waded out into the mire, bent down, and picked up something his foot had touched. It was a large clasp-knife with the biggest blade broken off. He turned it over and over and examined it carefully while he still stood in the water. Then he put it into his pocket, but he took it out again and looked at it before returning to the house.

      Gudmund did not come home until the household had retired. He went immediately to bed without touching his supper, which was spread in the main room.

      Erland Erlandsson and his wife slept in the side room. At daybreak Erland thought he heard footsteps outside the window. He got up, drew aside the curtain, and saw Gudmund walking down to the swamp. He stripped off stockings and shoes and waded out into the water, tramping back and forth, like one who is searching for something. He kept this up for a long while, then he walked back to dry land, as if he intended to go away, but soon turned back to resume his search. A whole hour his father stood watching him. Then Gudmund went back to the house again and to bed.

      On Palm Sunday Gudmund was to drive to church. As he started to hitch up the horse, his father came out. "You have forgotten to polish the harness to-day," he said, as he walked by; for both harness and cart were muddy.

      "I have had other things to think of," said Gudmund listlessly, and drove off without doing anything in the matter.

      After the service Gudmund accompanied his betrothed to Älvåkra and remained there all day. A number of young people came to celebrate Hildur's last evening as a maid, and there was dancing till far into the night. Intoxicants were plentiful, but Gudmund did not touch them. The whole evening he had scarcely spoken a word to any one, but he danced wildly and laughed at times, loudly and stridently, without any one's knowing what he was so amused over.

      Gudmund did not come home until about two in the morning, and when he had stabled the horse he went down to the swamp back of the house. He took off his shoes and stockings, rolled up his trousers, and waded into the water and mud. It was a light spring night, and his father was standing in the side room behind the curtain, watching his son. He saw how he walked bending over the water and searching as on the previous night. He went up on land between times, but after a moment or two he would wade again through the mud. Once he went and fetched a bucket from the barn and began dipping water from the pools, as if he intended to drain them, but really found it unprofitable and set the bucket aside. He tried also with a pole-net. He ploughed through the entire swamp-ground with it, but seemed to bring up nothing but mud. He did not go in until the morning was so well on that the people in the house were beginning to bestir themselves. Then he was so tired and spent that he staggered as he walked, and he flung himself upon the bed without undressing.

      When the clock struck eight, his father came and waked him. Gudmund lay upon the bed, his clothing covered with mud and clay, but his father did not ask what he had been doing. He simply said, "It is time now to get up," and closed the door.

      After a while Gudmund came down stairs, dressed in his wedding clothes. He was pale, and his eyes wore a troubled expression, but no one had ever seen him look so handsome. His features were as if illumined by an inner light. One felt that one was looking upon something no longer made up of flesh and blood, – only of soul and will.

      It was solemnly ceremonious down in the main room. His mother was in black, and she had thrown a pretty silk shawl across her shoulders, although she was not to be at the wedding. Fresh birch leaves were arranged in the fireplace. The table was spread, and there was a great quantity of food.

      When they had breakfasted, mother Ingeborg read a hymn and something from the Bible. Then she turned to Gudmund, thanked him for having been a good son, wished him happiness in his new life, and gave him her blessing. Mother Ingeborg could arrange her words well, and Gudmund was deeply moved. The tears welled to his eyes time and again, but he managed to choke them back. His father, too, said a few words. "It will be hard for your parents to lose you," he said, and again Gudmund came near breaking down. All the servants came forward and shook hands with him and thanked him for the past. Tears were in his eyes all the while. He pulled himself together and made several attempts to speak, but could scarcely get a word past his lips.

      His father was to accompany him to the wedding and be one of the party. He went out and harnessed the horse, after which he came back and announced that it was time to start. When Gudmund was seated in the cart, he noticed that it was cleansed and burnished. Everything was as bright and shiny as he himself always wished it to be. At the same time he saw, also, how neat everything about the place looked. The driveway had been laid with new gravel; piles of old wood and rubbish, which had lain there all his life, were removed. On each side of the entrance door stood a birch branch, as a gate of honor. A large wreath of blueberry hung on the weather-vane, and from every aperture peeped light green birch-leaves. Again Gudmund was ready to burst into tears. He grasped his father's hand hard when he was about to start; it was as though he wished to prevent his going.

      "Is there something – ?" said the father.

      "Oh, no!" said Gudmund. "It is best, I dare say, that we go ahead."

      Gudmund had to say one more farewell before he was very far from the homestead. It was Helga from Big Marsh, who stood waiting at the hedge, where the foliage path leading from her home opened into the highway. The father was driving and stopped when he saw Helga.

      "I have been waiting for you, as I wanted to wish you happiness to-day," said Helga.

      Gudmund leaned far out over the cart СКАЧАТЬ