He sat silently in the snow,
overcome by light and color, by light and happiness, and the dark fear
which he had had at first that something would come and extinguish all
this had gone. It was very still round about him, a great peace was
within him, the pictures had disappeared, but happiness was here. A
deep silence! There was not a sound, but sounds were in the air. And
there came laughter and song and low words came and light and
footsteps and dull sobbing of the beats of the pumps. Moaning he ran
away, ran long and far, came to the lake, followed the shore, until he
stumbled over the root of a tree, and then he was so tired that he
remained lying.
With a soft clucking sound the water ran over the small stones;
spasmodically there was a soft soughing among the barren limbs; now
and then a crow cawed above the lake; and morning threw its sharp
bluish gleam over forest and sea, over the snow, and over the pallid
face.
At sunrise he was found by the ranger from the neighboring forest, and
carried up to the forester Nicolai; there he lay for weeks and
days between life and death.
* * *
About the time when Mogens was being carried up to Nicolai's, a crowd
collected around a carriage at the end of the street where the
councilor lived. The driver could not understand why the policeman
wanted to prevent him from carrying out his legitimate order, and on
that account they had an argument. It was the carriage which was to
take Camilla to her aunt's.
Pages:
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46