The Collected Works. Selma Lagerlöf

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СКАЧАТЬ it once—and again—then quickly drew back a step or two. "Good gracious, Ashbjörn!" he exclaimed. "How did you catch that one?"

      He remembered that when he was a child his mother used to talk of the tiny folk who lived under the cabin floor. He was not permitted to cry or to be naughty, lest he provoke these small people. After he was grown he believed his mother had made up these stories about the elves to make him behave himself. But it had been no invention of his mother's, it seemed; for there, in Ashbjörn's bag, lay one of the tiny folk.

      There was a little of the terror natural to childhood left in Clement, and he felt a shudder run down his spinal column as he peeped into the bag. Ashbjörn saw that he was frightened and began to laugh; but Clement took the matter seriously. "Tell me, Ashbjörn, where you came across him?" he asked. "You may be sure that I wasn't lying in wait for him!" said Ashbjörn. "He came to me. I started out early this morning and took my rifle along into the boat. I had just poled away from the shore when I sighted some wild geese coming from the east, shrieking like mad. I sent them a shot, but hit none of them. Instead this creature came tumbling down into the water—so close to the boat that I only had to put my hand out and pick him up."

      "I hope you didn't shoot him, Ashbjörn?"

      "Oh, no! He is well and sound; but when he came down, he was a little dazed at first, so I took advantage of that fact to wind the ends of two sail threads around his ankles and wrists, so that he couldn't run away. 'Ha! Here's something for Skansen,' I thought instantly."

      Clement grew strangely troubled as the fisherman talked. All that he had heard about the tiny folk in his childhood—of their vindictiveness toward enemies and their benevolence toward friends—came back to him. It had never gone well with those who had attempted to hold one of them captive.

      "You should have let him go at once, Ashbjörn," said Clement.

      "I came precious near being forced to set him free," returned the fisherman. "You may as well know, Clement, that the wild geese followed me all the way home, and they criss-crossed over the island the whole morning, honk-honking as if they wanted him back. Not only they, but the entire population—sea gulls, sea swallows, and many others who are not worth a shot of powder, alighted on the island and made an awful racket. When I came out they fluttered about me until I had to turn back. My wife begged me to let him go, but I had made up my mind that he should come here to Skansen, so I placed one of the children's dolls in the window, hid the midget in the bottom of my bag, and started away. The birds must have fancied that it was he who stood in the window, for they permitted me to leave without pursuing me."

      "Does it say anything?" asked Clement.

      "Yes. At first he tried to call to the birds, but I wouldn't have it and put a gag in his mouth."

      "Oh, Ashbjörn!" protested Clement. "How can you treat him so! Don't you see that he is something supernatural!"

      "I don't know what he is," said Ashbjörn calmly. "Let others consider that. I'm satisfied if only I can get a good sum for him. Now tell me, Clement, what you think the doctor at Skansen would give me."

      There was a long pause before Clement replied. He felt very sorry for the poor little chap. He actually imagined that his mother was standing beside him telling him that he must always be kind to the tiny folk.

      "I have no idea what the doctor up there would care to give you, Ashbjörn," he said finally. "But if you will leave him with me, I'll pay you twenty kroner for him."

      Ashbjörn stared at the fiddler in amazement when he heard him name so large a sum. He thought that Clement believed the midget had some mysterious power and might be of service for him. He was by no means certain that the doctor would think him such a great find or would offer to pay so high a sum for him; so he accepted Clement's proffer.

      The fiddler poked his purchase into one of his wide pockets, turned back to Skansen, and went into a moss-covered hut, where there were neither visitors nor guards. He closed the door after him, took out the midget, who was still bound hand and foot and gagged, and laid him down gently on a bench.

      "Now listen to what I say!" said Clement. "I know of course that such as you do not like to be seen of men, but prefer to go about and busy yourselves in your own way. Therefore I have decided to give you your liberty—but only on condition that you will remain in this park until I permit you to leave. If you agree to this, nod your head three times."

      Clement gazed at the midget with confident expectation, but the latter did not move a muscle.

      "You shall not fare badly," continued Clement. "I'll see to it that you are fed every day, and you will have so much to do there that the time will not seem long to you. But you mustn't go elsewhere till I give you leave. Now we'll agree as to a signal. So long as I set your food out in a white bowl you are to stay. When I set it out in a blue one you may go."

      Clement paused again, expecting the midget to give the sign of approval, but he did not stir.

      "Very well," said Clement, "then there's no choice but to show you to the master of this place. Then you'll be put in a glass case, and all the people in the big city of Stockholm will come and stare at you."

      This scared the midget, and he promptly gave the signal.

      "That was right," said Clement as he cut the cord that bound the midget's hands. Then he hurried toward the door.

      The boy unloosed the bands around his ankles and tore away the gag before thinking of anything else. When he turned to Clement to thank him, he had gone.

      Just outside the door Clement met a handsome, noble-looking gentleman, who was on his way to a place close by from which there was a beautiful outlook. Clement could not recall having seen the stately old man before, but the latter must surely have noticed Clement sometime when he was playing the fiddle, because he stopped and spoke to him.

      "Good day, Clement!" he said. "How do you do? You are not ill, are you?

       I think you have grown a bit thin of late."

      There was such an expression of kindliness about the old gentleman that

       Clement plucked up courage and told him of his homesickness.

      "What!" exclaimed the old gentleman. "Are you homesick when you are in Stockholm? It can't be possible!" He looked almost offended. Then he reflected that it was only an ignorant old peasant from Hälsingland that he talked with—and so resumed his friendly attitude.

      "Surely you have never heard how the city of Stockholm was founded? If you had, you would comprehend that your anxiety to get away is only a foolish fancy. Come with me to the bench over yonder and I will tell you something about Stockholm."

      When the old gentleman was seated on the bench he glanced down at the city, which spread in all its glory below him, and he drew a deep breath, as if he wished to drink in all the beauty of the landscape. Thereupon he turned to the fiddler.

      "Look, Clement!" he said, and as he talked he traced with his cane a little map in the sand in front of them. "Here lies Uppland, and here, to the south, a point juts out, which is split up by a number of bays. And here we have Sörmland with another point, which is just as cut up and points straight north. Here, from the west, comes a lake filled with islands: It is Lake Mälar. From the east comes another body of water, which can barely squeeze in between the islands and islets. It is the East Sea. Here, Clement, where Uppland joins Sörmland and Mälaren joins the East Sea, comes a short river, in the centre of which lie four little islets СКАЧАТЬ