The Castle Builder. IV, V

THE CASTLE BUILDER. » "» 3Y NEPHI ANDERSON, AUTHOR OP ADDED UPON," MARCUS KING MORMON," ETC. PART FIRST. IV. ALONG THE COAST TO THE LAND OF ICE AND SNOW. If there was one form of out door exercise that Harald Einer- -sen in joyed more than another, it was to climb to the top of some high elevation that he might stand and look out over the surround- ing view. It was often a hard task to scale some of the highest peaks around the Lif jord, but that wonderful feeling of expansion which his soul experienced when the summit had been reached, amply paid for the exertion. So, this afternoon, when there was a pause in the chopping, which seemingly would last all the remain- der of the day, Harald, instead of taking it easy as the other chop- pers were doing, resolved to walk up through the pines to the top of a nearby ridge that he might gaze on what lay beyond. He was always saying to himself that he wished to see "what was just be- yond." Harald cut a stout birch cane, and left the group of men ly- ing on the grass smoking their pipes. He, also, was a chopper this summer, the third year after his confirmation, and was now out with his father in the woods. This work had helped to make a strong, man-like fellow out of him, and he now presented as hand- some a picture as one would wish to see. With his cap in his hand, and his red shirt open at the throat, he met the steep grade with

266 IMPROVEMENT ERA. a firm step, and in half an hour he stood on a ledge of rock from which he could get the desired view. On one side extended the pine clad hills; and on the other side, at his feet, lay the ocean. He had never seen such a large stretch of the ocean before, nor had he ever seen it in such a phase as now. He sat down with his face turned towards it. The sea was like glass; in the distance, it appeared like a huge mirror spread out over the earth. Some islands lay out against the horizon, but they seemed to be lifted up into the air, swimming in a hazy atmosphere of warm, golden color. Sea and sky blended into one. If a white cloud sailed through the blue of the sky, the sea also did its best to follow with a changing patch of white. When the air gently stooped to caress the sea, ripples of joy seemed to dance upon its bosom. The young man lay quietly, permitting the whole, sweet har- mony of the elements to enter his heart; and then this spiritual elixir penetrated into some innermost recess of his soul, touching a secret spring. Ah, the Viking blood stirs within him; sluggishly at first, then swifter and swifter, until at last his whole body tingles. The sea calls, and he answers. The wind greets him and he knows its voice. The waves come rolling towards him; they must stop on the strand below, but he hears them, and under- stands their message. "I will come to thee, I will come to thee," he whispers, as if he were speaking to a shy maiden at his side. Then, as he was gazing and dreaming, an ancient Viking fleet seemed to sail before him. The long, open boats, each with its one square sail filled with wind, came gliding into the scene one by one, until the whole wide expanse was dotted with them. Each ship had a real shield at the prow, a sign of war, and each vessel was filled with warriors whose battle-axes and spears glistened in the sun. Then the whole fleet seemed to sail slowly into the distance, and Harald's heart was dravm out with the departing boats, until at length when they disappeared behind the horizon, the young man leaped to his feet as if he would follow the departing Vikings, to take part in the raids they had planned against some southern shores. The sound of ringing axes came from below. Harald shook

THE CASTLE BUILDER. 267 himself as if to be free from some charmed power, and then betook himself to work again; but that same afternoon, he made up his mind to accept the invitation his Uncle Erik had sent him to come to Nordland and join him in his trip to the fishing grounds of Lofoten, the coming winter. Einer Gundersen had no objections to Harald going to Nord- land. There was small opportunity for a young man of Harald's disposition in or around Updal, and at Lofoten there was always a chance of doing something profitable. Harald, of course, counselled with his grandmother about it. Halger was now the herder, and stayed with his grandmother when Harald was away; and the old lady enjoyed better health than she had for years. "Yes; my boy," she had said to him, "I don't see why you shouldn't go. You are a big, strong boy, and I believe as true as you are strong. I think I can trust you now. I think I can trust you to do right under all circumstances, and I do not see why you should not have your chances in life. But Nordland and Lofoten is a hard life, and you know you are not much of a sailor," "It's not hard to learn, I hope, such a trifle as that, grand- mother!" So it was satisfactorily arranged, and Uncle Erik sent him money enough to pay his fare to Sandstad. It was in the latter part of August, when he was ready. He was to go early, that he might take part in some summer fishing before he should go to the more strenuous life at Lofoten. On the morning of his departure, the whole household was astir. Little Hulda cried when her father lifted Harald's little wooden box to carry it down to the landing, and so Harald lifted her onto his shoulders and carried her down, while the rest of the family followed. They all tried to appear pleased, but it was use- less to try to conceal the deep emotions under which they were laboring. This was Harald's first long trip away from home, and there was no telling what might befall him ere h^ returned — and he might never return at all — the sea is such a cruel thing to deal with. The step-mother, whom Harald had so often of late helped and comforted, took the parting quite to heart, and there were

268 IMPROVEMENT ERA. tears in the eyes of the father when he pressed Harald's hand and said: "Goodby, my son; be a good boy, and — and, don't drink, Harald, shun liquor as you would the very gates of hell. Fishermen are rough, and they drink much, but don't you do it, Harald, that's a father's last words to you, should he never see you again!" Even Harald joined in the general sobbing — all but grand- mother—she smiled still. "Goodby, Harald," she said, as she patted one cheek and kissed the other, "God bless you, and bring you safely home again." Harald jumped into his boat, and, seizing the oars, was soon speeding down the fjord. They all stood on the bank waving their hats and handkerchiefs, until a projecting bank hid them from his sight. It was a good half day's row, down the fjord to Vangen, but Harald did not wish the distance shorter that morning. He wished to take a last look at the familiar scenes of mountain, dell and water, wherein he had herded his sheep, picked berries and fished for the wily trout. Just down that beautiful, grassy slope, one summer day, with some other boys, he remembered, having rolled old man Hansen's grind stone. What a beautiful sight it had been, and what a fearful splash it made as it bounded into the deep waters of the fjord! He also remembered how much money the boys had been compelled to obtain to buy a new one. Here also was the cosy nook under the crags, where he had become so in- terested in castle building that he had neglected his sheep. Just on that ledge, Thora sat, and he had lifted her down. What a wee, slender thing she had been, and now — why the last time he saw her, she appeared so like a grown young lady that he had not dared to speak to her. The boat glided smoothly towards Vangen. The rower must have reached beyond the region of his boyhood resorts, for now his thoughts were not so much with hill and vale as with the face and form of a pale girl who looked so much like a young woman. Harald tied his boat at the wharf where the steamer was to touch. He had an hour yet to wait. Asking a ferryman at the wharf to keep an eye on his boat until his father should come after it, he strolled up the business street of the little town.

THE CASTLE BUILDER. 269 He intended buying a few articles for his journey, but was a little nervous about going to Merchant Bernhard's, his usual place of business; why, he scarcely knew. Certainly he would like to say goodby to Thora, but somehow there was an unusual fear about it, so he walked by the store without looking in. "How silly I am getting!" he said to himself. "Thora doesn't work in the store. What's the matter with me, any way? Thora is a rich merchant's daughter — I am a sheep-herder — a wood-chopper." Turning sud- denly, he went into the store and made his purchases. Now the nearest way to the steamboat landing was directly down the street again, but Harald had abundance of time, so decid- ed to take a stroll another way, that thereby he might pass a white- painted house, set back in a large grass patch, — the Bernhard resi- dence. It was a beautiful place, and it would do no harm to take a last look at it. He saw Thora the moment he turned the corner. She was at work in the garden, and, just as he passed the gate, she spied him. Her straw hat was lying on the grass, she had a small flower shovel in her hand. When she saw Harald coming, she pushed the hair from her eyes, and said: "Good day, Harald. You are just in time to help me. I was just wishing some one would come along to assist me with this flower. I want to carry it into the conservatory. Won't you help me?" Pushing the little gate open Harald went in. He took the tub containing the plant, and lifted it up on his shoulder, saying, "Tell me where to put it." "Oh, but I wanted to help you!" she exclaimed. He laughed, walked across the grass to the glass-covered house at the side of the dwelling, putting his burden down in the spot directed. "Now, you'll excuse me if I run away so hurriedly," he said. "I mustn't miss the steamer." "Are you going away?" "Yes; up to Nordland, to Uncle Erik's. Goodby," and he held out his hand. "Well, I didn't know you were going so far. — Well — ah there's plenty of time — the steamer's always late — Well, thank you for your help, Harald, goodby," and she shook his hand. He hurried away and down to the landing, wishing the steamer

270 IMPROVEMENT ERA. would come. It was past due now. He had taken his box and the basket containing his lunch on to the pier, and was now pacing back and forth. Ten minutes, twenty minutes passed, then he heard the steamer's whistle, down the fjord. Coming up to the warf, it lay there fully fifteen minutes longer, while the men leisurely unloaded a few boxes, and took on board other articles of freight. Stowing his box safely away in a corner between decks, Harald went up again, just as the men were getting ready to throw off the ropes, when he beheld Thora Bernhard coming down the pier. Seeing him at the railing, she walked up the gang plank and handed him a small basket, saying: "This is for your lunch, Harald, goodby." Then she stood on the wharf waving her hand to him. He thought he beheld a soft color of red in each pale cheek, as the steamer took him farther and farther down the opening waters of the fjord. That day he saw some of the wonders of Norway's coastline scenery. Hour after hour, the steamer plowed its way through the maze of fjords and sounds, whose still, deep waters, protected by the outlying islands from the rough winds and waves of the ocean, reflected in its surface the gray of the barren mountains. Every few hours, the steamer headed up some fjord, stopping at a small town consisting often of but a few houses huddled together under a mountain wall. Then back again, and in and out of channels so narrow that a stone could be thrown to either side. Harald kept on deck most of the time, but when evening came, he went down to his box where the heat from the engine was not uncomfortable. The next morning the steamer lay in the wharf at the city of Trondhjem, and since it would be some hours before it sailed Harald walked up into the city. He was much interested in what he saw, this being the first time he had been in a large city. Especially was he interested in its ancient cathedral, of which he had read, and to which Norway's kings formerly came to be crowned. In the afternoon the steamer plowed on again. That night they left the still waters of a protected fjord to get out into the open sea to round a headland. The boat pitched quite lively, but Harald stood it quite well. In the morning they were again

• THE CASTLE BUILDER. 271 behind some islands, only now and then catching a glimpse of the sea through the openings between two islands. The youth seemed to be getting a long way from home. Yet he enjoyed the journey greatly. There was so much to see that was new to him, while the grand scenery appealed forcibly to his nature. As the steamer crept on jiorthward, he beheld the change in the nature of the country, and saw that the green spots of earth became fewer and smaller as they came nearer the land of perpetual ice and snow. The air, also, became keen, especially at night, and now and then he caught a glimpse of newly fallen snow, on the summits of mountains towards the north. Then, life on board was full of oddities, and there were many strange people whose ways and talk were entertaining to the inexperienced boy. His lunch baskets were getting low. Of course, he had not waited long to inspect the basket given him by Thora, and he had found it to contain a liberal supply of fine wheat bread, buttered, and laid with slices of cheese and sausage. Then there was a small honey-cake, and a piece of smoked salmon. These dainties he had kept as a dessert to his usual meal of rye bread and coffee, eating sparingly of them that they might prolong his pleasure. But the third day out, the larger basket was empty, and the smaller one contained but one piece of the cake. Sandstad was to be reached that evening, and Harald thought he would be able to manage until he arrived there. Buying meals at the steamer's dining-table was beyond his purse. So he nibbled as his cake. It was certainly genuine honey-cake, and not the cheap imitation made from molasses, such as was sold at the booths at the markets. He could taste the flavor of the honey in it. "I wish there were more of it," he mused. '*! wonder if Thora baked it herself." He had heard that Thora was an excellent cook, and could make all kinds of dainty things. ''Hallo, I believe there is another piece left. Strange, I did not see it before. Wrapped up in a separate piece of paper, and crushed, too, all out of shape. What a shame!" He lifted the small package from the bottom of the basket, took off the double wrapping of paper, and in his hand lay, not a piece of honey-cake, but a rose — a large, beautiful, red rose, now crushed and quite withered. Harald was standing, at the time,

272 . IMPROVEMENT ERA. down near the engine room, but the smell from the machinery- seemed to stifle him, and so he made his way up on deck. He put the rose in his coat pocket, and went to the extreme point of the vessel's prow where he could be alone. Then he took the flower out and smelled its fragrance. Tenderly he turned it over, and a few detached petals dropped to the deck. He picked them up again. What did it mean? Had Thora intentionally put it there. There could be no doubt of that, as the same kind of paper had enwrapped the cake and the rose. He looked at it for a long time, then carefully enfolded it between the leaves of a note book, and placed that in an inner pocket of his jacket. He leaned over the railing, and watched the white wave spreading out from the steamer's prow. The sun sank in the west, and a path of golden light reached from the horizon to the vessel. The sublime solitude of a northern fjord brooded over all, and the silence seemed broken only by the rhythmical turning of the steamer's propeller. Suddenly the hoarse whistle belched forth the signal for Sandstad. Boats are now coming out to meet them, and Harald hurriedly carried his baggage up on deck. The boats lay alongsides, while an iron door was opened in the side of the steamer out of which he stepped. "Is that you, Harald?" shouted a big, red-bearded man, whom Harald took to be his uncle Erik. "Yes," answered Harald. "All right, jump in. Anything else? Heave your box in. Be careful, boy, our boat dances like a cork." Then they shoved away, the steamer went on its course, and Uncle Erik pulled with long, steady strokes towards the shore. V. HOME LIFE IN THE FAR NORTH. Sandstad consisted of a score or more houses grouped on the small, level area where a valley opened out upon Lundfjord. A stream came dashing down the valley from a small lake not half a mile from the sea. The mountains all about were high and steep. That which Harald had often called "the everlasting pine forest"^

♦ THE CASTLE BUILDER. 273 was here absent. Not one tree could be seen an3rwhere, but over the hillsides were patches of white-birch, willows, and brush. ■ Erik Svensen's house stood a few rods up from the strand. It was two stories high, boarded, and painted white. The side of the roof towards the sea was covered with wooden shingles, but the side away from the direction of storms and winds, was covered with a green sod. All the houses were of one general type, save that some showed the bare logs, and were devoid of paint. Uncle Erik rowed up to the landing by the boat-house. The two leaped out, and the boat was drawn upon the sand. Shoulder- ing his box, Harald followed his uncle to the house, where he was kindly received by his aunt Karen and his cousin Dagmar, a fair-haired, rosy-cheeked girl of sixteen. A number of other cousins were married and lived at other places on the island. Sandstad was located on one of the larger islands, just north of the Lofoten group. True to the Norwegian custom, the first thing that Harald must do was to eat. There was a whispered consultation between Dagmar and her mother, and then a white cloth was spread over the table. China dishes, knives, forks, spoons, and, in fact, all the i;able settings were displayed that Harald occasionally had seen at the home of some well-to-do bonde* in his own locality. Harald sat by the tall, square stove in the corner, in which a slow turf fire was burning, and watched with much interest Dagmar at work. Soon the table was set, and Harald must at once eat, while Dag- mar served him. He was not naturally timid, but, this being the first time he had thus been so much honored, he found it some- what difficult to act properly. He was hungry from his day's fast, but he could eat scarcely half of the bowl of thick milk which Dagmar had prepared by sprinkling sugar and cake crumbs over the thick cream. Then there was the delicious, crisp flad hrod, (dry, thin, fiat bread) the fresh cod, the cold potatoes, and coffee. "Now you must eat, Harald," urged his aunt. "You have had a long journey, and I know you must be hungry. You are quite welcome to our poor fare. We haven't much cooked to day,

• A freeholder on a small scale — either for life or for inheritance.

274 IMPROVEMENT ERA. but I hope you'll make out a supper." Thus the good aunt talked and urged, until Harald could eat no more, when she reluctantly let him get up from the table. Soon Uncle Erick and some hired helpers came in. The table was reset, the white table cloth being taken off, and a large dish of mush being placed before each person. The mush was eaten, each spoonful being dipped into a cup of milk, placed by each plate — more to cool it than as a part of the dish. After supper, the men lighted their pipes, and soon the room was filled with smoke. It nearly stifled Harald, as he was not ac- customed to such an atmosphere, but he had to bear it, while he was- kept busy answering the many questions about the folks down at" Opdal. Dagmar sat in the further corner of the room with her knitting, and Harald saw her as through a haze, and he wondered how she could endure breathing the thick tobacco smoke. After an hour or more of conversation. Aunt Karen came to his rescue, declaring that he must be tired. She led him up stairs to his room, and, placing the lamp on a little table, bade him good night. When she had gone, Harald looked in wonder about the room. The walls and ceiling were boarded and painted. The floor was also painted. There was a table with a fancy cloth on,, a bureau, with a glass hanging over it, and some spindle-legged, straight-backed chairs which he was afraid to sit on. On the bed were two down mattresses, of which he knew only this, that he must sleep between them. The top one must have been made of the genuine eider-down, since it puffed up as if it had been filled with air when he moved it. It was difficult for him to go to sleep- that night, tired though he was. Thoughts of Opdal would come, and how he was resting snugly between soft, warm down, while poor grandmother was sleeping as usual on her bed of sheepskins. The little one-roomed hut had a charm about it yet, especially when he was so far from it. Grandmother ought to live in such a room, and sleep in such a bed as he was in! As she got older, her bones would ache more — and then, he wondered if Halger would provide her with plenty of wood. His first money should go to grandmother, and — yes, if God would give him strength and prosper his efforts, grandmother should yet have comfort in her- old age.

THE CASTLE BUILDER. 275 Harald found that life in Nordland was quite different from what it was farther south. Even the language was spoken with a peculiar accent, and he had difficulty in understanding some of the older people. The short summer was drawing to a close, and every man, woman and child that could be spared, were out in the fields gathering the precious harvest of .barley and potatoes; so his help came timely to overworked Uncle Erik. The barley had yielded well that summer, and the land had been favored with a few days of bright, sunny weather, so that the sheaves could be gotten dry to the barn. The potatoes seemed unusually small to him, but he was told that they were quite large for Nordland. He and Dagmar did nearly all the potato harvesting, he digging up the potatoes with a heavy pointed hoe, while Dagmar gathered them into sacks. The strangeness of associating with a girl instead of with boys, as he had done all his previous Hfe, soon wore away, and the two cousins became good friends and companions. Dagmar was some- what proud of her strong, good-looking cousin, and it was not long before she acquainted him with most of the people at Sandstad. The Sunday rest was used to advantage. There was no church at Sandstad, but usually some traveling preacher held services in the school house; nearly everybody attended, no matter to what de- nomination the preacher belonged. After the rush of harvest was over, there were still a few days of pleasant weather, and so Dagmar fulfilled a promise to take Harald across the fjord to visit a married sister. The sky was free from clouds that morning, but the breeze came steadily from the sea, filling the one square sail which Dagmar herself lifted half way up the mast. "You are a landsman, a farmer," she laughingly said to Har- ald, "you sit still on the seat, and let me manage the boat." Then she went to the tiller and seated herself by it, laughing merrily at him. She was a picture worth looking at, too, in her snug-fitting, gray, flannel dress, her round, rosy face beaming with smiles from the folds of the silken kerchief around her head. "I'll let you help me a little," she continued. "Just raise the sail a little, will you? I think we can stand a little more. There, that will do for the present; we'll see how it blows, when we get further out."

276 IMPROVEMENT ERA. Harald enjoyed the sail. To lonnge on his seat, with nothing- to do but to watch the porpoises make their graceful dives, and to feel the boat, as it gently rose and fell over the waves, was a new and novel sensation to the young man. Soon they rounded a huge, steep cliff, from which thousands of birds flew screaming over their heads. Then the boat was headed straight across the fjord to the opposite shore, which soon arose steep and frowning from the green water. They landed at the base of a high mountain, where a small cove made a tiny harbor. Into this enclosure, a waterfall came tumbling from an opening in the rocky height. On one side were a few square rods of comparatively level land, and on this, close up to the cliffs, stood the fishermen's huts. A boat house stood near the water, and a stone pier made it easy to land. As they walked up the path, Harald thought, "What a neat, cosy place to live — lonesome though, especially when the sea rolls high." Not a soul came to meet them. Usually, either child or dog, or perhaps both, made a great commotion when Aunt Dagmar came to see them. It was explained when they found the housewife at work in the bake house mixing bread, and making great stacks of dough ready for the baking; the two children were fast asleep; and the dog was away on the other side of the island with Johan, the hus- band. Cousin Maria was very much like her sister in looks. She was pleased to meet Harald, of whom she had heard. She could not shake hands because of the dough, and kissing is out of the question with Norwegian kinsfolks. "You are just in time, Dagmar," said her sister, "to help us with the baking tonight. Johan will soon be back, and we'll be- gin right away. Johan is preparing to go south with a boat-load of fish, and he must have provisions. And here's Harald, he can help, too." "I'm always pleased to be of assistance," said he. "You talk!" exclaimed Dagmar, "Harald is one of those good- for-nothing southerners, you know. What does he know about baking bread?" The visitors were led into the main living room, and the noise awoke the two children — a boy of two, and a girl of five — who

THE CASTLE BUILDER. 277 took kindly to Aunt Dagmar, but were shy of the strange man. A shining, copper coffee pot v/as placed on the stove, and Maria spread the table for a lunch. Then Johan came in and was intro- duced. He was a typical Norse fisherman; a big, broad-shouldered man with light, curly hair and beard, ruddy face and blue eyes. Harald liked him at once. He was such an open-hearted, merry soul, that it did not take Harald long to become acquainted with him. As they sat around the table sipping their coffee through the lumps of sugar, Harald noticed the interior furnishings of the fisherman's house. It was not what he would call "fine," yet it was cosy. It had the usual painted ceiling, but the walls were papered. The floor was as white and clean as if the pine boards had newly come from the plaining mill. The covering on the folded-up bed, in the corner, was pure white. The heating stove shone with new blacking. The two small windows were filled with flowerS; geraniums, fuchias, and myrtles. It was, in reality, a warm home-nest in the dreary wilds of that northern land. Then all hands went to the baking. A birch-wood fire was made in the big, open fire-place of the bake-house. The dough was placed on one end of a long table, and was then moulded into long rolls. Dagmar divided these, with one cut of her knife, into pieces about the size of an Qgg, which she passed along to Maria, at the other end of the table. This piece of dough Maria placed under her rolling pin, and rolled into a round sheet the thickness of cardboard. By this time, the fire had well heated a large, round iron plate, set on three legs, over the fire, and Johan began his work. With a broad, flat, wooden paddle, he lifted the thin dough onto the hot plate, let it bake for a moment, then turned it over, and then in another moment threw it onto the floor, which had previously been spread with clean cloths. This, when thor- oughly dried, was the flad brod, or flat bread, of the country. Harald entered merrily into the work, and tried his hand at all the processes. The rolling of the dough into strips was not difficult, and he could likewise cut off the proper amount; but the rolling of this lump into the proper thinness, without breaking it, was a trick he could not so easily master; and when he tried the baking part, he either burned his hands, or the paddle, or the

278 IMPROVEMENT ERA. bread. The others enjoyed his experiments, and laughed lustily at his failures. Night came on, black outside, but the blaze from the fire lighted up the bake house with a ruddy glow. For hours, they worked, until the pile on the floor grew high, and the dough was exhausted. Then they all went to bed, well tired out. The next afternoon saw Harald and Dagmar out on the fjord, homeward bound. He had enjoyed his visit very much, and meant to have more of the company of cousins Johan and Maria. How happy they were, with their cosy home, their children, and their love for each other! The picture appealed strongly to him. He had known nothing of such home contentment and happiness. Would he ever know? Would he ever be a partaker of such love? Certainly no human being could ask for more than Johan Bernsen had. The sea was smooth, and the breeze was hardly strong enough to move the boat. Dagmar was at her place by the tiller. She was not so noisy as usual. Her kerchief had slipped down onto her shoulders, and Harald saw the light silken curls against the back- ground of green water; but Dagmar was thoughtful, and gazed far out over the fjord rather than at her companion in the other end of the boat. Cousin Dagmar was a sweet girl; and no doubt she would make just such a wife as her sister. She was a worker, too, and not con- tent with the oft-times, rude environments which he had seen in other homes. He had some time ago discovered that the best room of his uncle's had been Dagmar's previous to his coming. And then the picture in his thoughts became bolder in outline. He, also, had a home nestling beneath the shelter of the crags. There was a plot of ground in front in which grew vegetables, and flowers. Behind the small window-panes bloomed the geranium and fuchia; and when he came home, cold and hungry and wet from the sea, one met him at the door — and she would kiss him, then he would repay her, and then she would dry his clothes and set a steaming supper on the table. Then, perhaps, rosy-fingered chil- dren would pull at his hair, and climb on his knee. But what would she look hke then? as sweet as she was now, on the other side of the sail? Why was she so quiet? Perhaps it was his

THE CASTLE BUILDER. 279 fault. He was also stupid to live so in the uncertain future, when the real was present with him. Dagmar had treated him so kindly "but — but, he was her cousin, and could not do less — well, it did not cost anything to build air castles anyway. The wind stiffened, the sail filled, and the boat went faster. Still Dagmar was silent. It was night, ere they reached home; and when they walked from the boat up to the house, Harald thought she was crying. Had he dared, he would have taken her hand and enquired about her trouble. She left him at the house. As Harald entered, a letter was handed to him. It was from grand- mother, the first he had received from her, since writing was no easy task for her. Grandmother was well, it said. The children Vere growing fast. Halger was preparing for confirmation. Hulda often asked about "big brother." Father was away in the forest. The school- master had visited her and enquired after him. She had been down to Vangen with some knitting for Merchant Bernhard — by the way, he must not forget to let her know when he needed stock- ings— Miss Bernhard- had treated her so kindly — had taken her into the dining-room and given her coffee and cake. She had asked about Harald, and had wished to be remembered to him when she wrote. "So, of course, I had to write, Harald, if for nothing more than to send you greetings from such a sweet young lady as Thora Bernhard." Harald did not tell the family the latter bit of news. He got away to his room as soon as possible. Somehow, it seemed to him that a fair castle which he had built that afternoon was tumbling about his ears, and he was trying to dodge the pieces. Then, when the tumult was over, out of the mists, away in a dim, beauti- ful distance, there appeared to him another castle of indescribable grace and loveliness. Before going to bed that night, he took from the pocket of his coat, hanging on the wall, a little note-book. A withered rose fell into his hand, and its fragrance was laden with the sweet- ness of remembrance. ( To be continued.)