"The monastery is still called 'Andersskov' (the wood of Anders) inmemory of its being the habitation of the pious Anders.
"The hill on which he awoke, comforted by sleep, is still called'Hvile h鰅' (the hill of rest). A cross having a Latin inscription,half-effaced, marks the spot."--J. L. HEIBERG.
It was spring, fresh, life-bearing spring! Only one day and onenight, and the birds of passage were back again; the woods madethemselves once more young with green, odorous leaves; the Soundhad its swimming Venice of richly laden vessels; only one day andone night, and Sophie was removed from Otto--they were divided bythe salt sea; but it was spring in his heart; from it flew histhoughts, like birds of passage, to the island of Funen, and theresang of summer. Hope gave him more "gold and green woods" than theships bear through the Sound, more than Zealand's bays can show.Sophie at parting pressed his hand. In her eyes lay what his heartmight hope and dream.
He forgot that hope and dreams were the opposites of reality.
Cousin Joachim had gone to Stockholm, and would not return eitherin the spring or summer to Funen. On the contrary, Otto intended tospend a few weeks at the country-seat; not before August would heand Wilhelm travel. There would at least be one happy moment, andmany perhaps almost as happy. In his room stood a rose-bush, thefirst buds formed themselves, and opened their red lips--as pureand tender as these leaves was Sophie's cheek: he bent over theflower, smiled and read there sweet thoughts which were related tohis love. A rose-bud is a sweet mystery.
"The myriad leaves enmaze Small labyrinthine ways Where spicy odor flows, Thou lovelv bud o' the rose!"
The day came on which Otto, after he had comfortably terminated hisvisits of leave-taking, at midday, in the company of three youngstudents travelled away through Zealand. They had taken a carriagetogether as far as Slagelse, where, like Abraham's and Lot'sshepherds, they should separate to the right and left. Ottoremained alone, in order to travel post that night to Nyborg. Itwas only four o'clock in the afternoon, Otto had no acquaintancehere, therefore it was but to take a walk.
"There still exist remains of the old Antvorskov convent, [Author'sNote: The convent was founded by Waldemar I., 1177.] do there not?"asked he.
"Yes, but very little!" answered the host. "The convent became acastle, the castle a private house, and now within the last fewyears, on account of the stones, it has been still more pulleddown. You will find nothing old remaining, except here and there inthe garden a piece of a red wall standing out. But the situation isbeautiful! If you will only take the road toward the large villagecalled Landsgrav, you are on the way to Kors鰁r, and close to thecross of the holy Anders. It is a right pleasant excursion!"
"Convent ruins and the holy cross!" said Otto; "that sounds quiteromantic!" And he commenced his wanderings.
A few scholars from the Latin school, with their books heldtogether by a strait, and then a square built lancer, who greetedin military style an elderly-young lady, who was seated behind abarricade of geraniums and wall flowers, were the only individualshe met with on his way. Yet Otto remarked that the windows wereopened as he passed; people wanted to see who the stranger might bewho was going up the street.
A long avenue led from the town to the castle. On either side theway lay detached houses, with little gardens. Otto soon reached theremains of old Antvorskov. The way was red from the stones whichwere flung about, and were now ground to dust. Huge pieces of wall,where the mortar and stone were united in one piece, lay almostconcealed among the high nettles. Rather more distant stood asolitary house of two stories. It was narrow, and whitewashed. Athick pilaster, such as one sees in churches, supported the strongwall. This was half of the last wing of the castle,--a mingling ofthe ancient and incident, of ruin and dwelling-house.
Otto went into the garden, which was laid out upon the hill itself,and its terraces. Here were only young trees; but the walks wereeverywhere overgrown. The view stretched itself far over the plain,toward the Belt and Funen. He descended from the terrace down tothe lowest wall. In this there yet remained a piece of an oldtombstone, of the age of the convent, on which you perceived thetrace of a female form; and near to this the figure of a skeleton,round which was twined a snake. Otto stood sunk in contemplation,when an old man, with two water-buckets suspended from a yoke onhis shoulders, approached a near well.
The old man was very ready to commence a conversation. He told ofexcavations, and of an underground passage which had not beendiscovered, but which, according to his opinion, was certainly inexistence. So far they had only found a few walled-round spaces,which had most probably been prisons. In one of these was an ironchain fastened into the wall. But with regard to the undergroundpassage, they had only not yet discovered the right place, for itmust exist. It led from here, deep under the lake and forest,toward Sor鰁. There were large iron gates below. At Christmas onecould hear how they were swung to and fro. "Whoever should havethat which is concealed there," said the old man, "would be a mademan, and need not neither slip nor slide."
Otto looked at the solitary wing which rose up over the terrace.How splendid it had been here in former times!
Close to the large wood, several miles in extent, which stretchesitself on the other side of Sor鰁, down to the shore of the King'sBrook, lay the rich convent where Hans Tausen spoke what the Spiritinspired him with. Times changed; the convent vanished;
"Halls of state Tower upon that spot elate; Where the narrow cell once stood;"[Author's Note: Anders-skov, by Oehlenschl鋑er.]
where the monks sang psalms, knights and ladies danced to the soundof beating drums: but these tone's ceased; the blooming cheeksbecame dust. It was again quiet. Many a pleasant time did Holbergride over from Sor鰁, through the green wood, to visit the stewardof Antvorskov. Otto recollected what one of his daughters, when anold woman, had related to a friend of his. She was a child, and layin the cradle, when old Holberg came riding there, with a littlewheaten loaf and a small pot of preserve in his pocket--his usualprovision on such little excursions. The steward's young wife satat her spinning-wheel. Holberg paced up and down the room with thehusband; they were discussing politics. This interested the wife,and she joined in the conversation. Holberg turned round to her,--"I fancy the distaff speaks!" said he. This the wife could neverforget. [Translator's Note: Rokkehoved, distaff, means also duncein Danish.]
Otto smiled at this recollection of the witty but ungallant poet,quitted the garden, and went through a winding hollow way, wherethe luxuriant briers hung in rich masses over the stone fence.Slagelse, with its high hills in the background, lookedpicturesque. He soon reached Landsgrav. The sun went down as hewalked over the field where the wooden cross stands, with itsfigure of the Redeemer, in memory of the holy Anders. Near it heperceived a man, who appeared to kneel. One hand held fast by thecross; in the other was a sharp knife, with which he was probablycutting out his name. He did not observe Otto. Near the man lay abox covered with green oil-cloth; and in the grass lay a knapsack,a pair of boots, and a knotty stick. It must be a wanderingjourneyman, or else a pedlar.
Otto was about to return, when the stranger rose and perceived him.Otto stood as if nailed to the earth. It was the German Heinrichwhom he saw before him.
"Is not that Mr. Thostrup?" said the man and that horrible grinningsmile played around his mouth. "No, that I did not expect!"
"Does it go well with you, Heinrich?" asked Otto.
"There's room for things to mend!" replied Heinrich "It goes betterwith you! Good Lord, that you should become such a grand gentleman!Who would have thought it, when you rode on my knee, and I prickedyou in the arm? Things go on strangely in this world! Have youheard of your sister? She was not so much spoiled as you! But shewas a beautiful child!"
"I have neither seen her nor my parents!" replied he, with atrembling which he strove to conquer. "Do you know where she is?"
"I am always travelling!" said Heinrich; "but thus much I know,that she is still in Funen. Yes, she must take one of us, anunpretending husband! You can choose a genteel young lady foryourself. That's the way when people are lucky. You will become alanded proprietor. Old Heinrich will then no doubt obtainpermission to exhibit his tricks on your estate? But none of itswill speak of former times!--of the red house on the Odense water!"This last he whispered quite low. "I shall receive a few shillingsfrom you?" he asked.
"You shall have more!" said Otto, and gave to him. "But I wish usto remain strangers to each other, as we are!"
"Yes, certainly, certainly!" said Heinrich, and noddedaffirmatively with his head, whilst his eyes rested on the giftOtto had presented him with. "Then you are no longer angry with myjoke in Jutland?" asked he with a simpering smile, and kissedOtto's hand. "I should not have known you then. Had you not shownme your shoulder, on which I saw the letters O and T which I myselfhad etched, it would never have occurred to me that we knew eachother! But a light suddenly flashed across me. I should have saidOtto Thostrup; but I said 'Odense Tugt-huus.' [Note: Odense houseof correction.] That was not handsome of me, seeing you are such agood gentleman!"
"Yes, now adieu!" said Otto, and extended to him unwillingly hishand.
"There, our Saviour looks down upon us!" said the German Heinrich,and fixed his eyes upon the figure on the cross. "As certainly asHe lives may you rely upon the silence of my mouth. He is myRedeemer, who hangs there on the cross, just as he is etched uponmy skin, and as he stands along the high-roads in my father-land.Here is the only place in the whole country where the sign of thecross stands under the free heaven; here I worship: for you mustknow, Mr. Thostrup, I am not of your faith, but of the faith of theVirgin Mary. Here I have cut into the wood the holy sign, such asis placed over every door in my father-land,--an I, an H, and thisS. In this is contained my own name; for H stands for Heinrich; I,for I myself; and S means Sinner; that is, I, Heinrich, Sinner. NowI have completed my worship, and you have given me a handsomeskilling, I shall now go to my bed at the public-house; and if thegirl is pretty, and lets one flatter her, I am still young enough,and shall fancy that I am Mr. Thostrup, and have won that mostglorious, elegant young lady! Hurrah! it is a player's life whichwe lead!"
Otto left him, but heard how Heinrich sang:
"Tri, ri, ro, The summer comes once mo! To beer, boys! to beer The winter lies in bands, O! And he who won't come here, We'll trounce him with our wands, O! Yo, yo, yo, The summer comes once mo!"
As, suddenly on a clear sunny day, a cloud can appear, extinguishthe warm sunshine, conceal the green coast, and change everythinginto gray mist forms, so was it now with Otto, who had but justbefore felt himself so happy and full of youthful joy.
"You can sleep quietly!" said the host, when Otto returned toSlagelse; "you shall be wakened early enough to leave with themail."
But his rest was like a delirium.
The post-horn sounded in the empty street; they rolled away--it wasat daybreak.
"Is that a gallows?" inquired one of the travellers, and pointed towardthe hill, where at this distance the cross looked like a stake.
"That is the cross of the holy Anders!" replied Otto; and livinglystood before him the recollections of the evening before.
"Does that really exist?" said the stranger. "I have read of it inthe 'Letters of a Wandering Ghost.'"
This was a beautiful morning, the sun shone warmly, the sea wassmooth as a mirror, and so much the faster did the steamboat glideaway. The vessel with the mail, which had set sail two hoursearlier, still lay not far from land. The sails hung down loosely;not a breeze stirred them.
The steamboat glided close past her; the passengers in the mail-vessel,the greater portion coachmen, travelling journeymen, and peasants,stood on the deck to see it. They waved greetings. One of theforemost leaned on his knotty stick, pulled off his hat, andshouted, "Good morning, my noble gentlefolk!" It was the GermanHeinrich; he then was going to Funen. Otto's heart beat faster, hegazed down among the rushing waves which foamed round the paddle,where the sunbeams painted a glorious rainbow.
"That is lovely!" said one of the strangers, close to him.
"Very lovely!" returned Otto, and stilled the sigh which wouldburst forth from his breast.
Scarcely two hours were fled--the cables were flung upon the Nyborgbridge of boats, and the steamboat made fast to the island of Funen.