A Danish Parsonage Part 32

"Nothing could be better or kinder, Mrs. Hardy," replied Helga. "I will write for the priest who generally does my father's duty in his absence, at once."

"Stay," said Mrs. Hardy, "if your father leaves with us, it will enable you to get ready for your wedding in his absence; it will be better so. And here is a little packet. It will meet any expense; it is not from John, it is from me;" and Mrs. Hardy kissed her affectionately and was gone.

CHAPTER XXIV.

"_Piscator._--But, my worthy friend, I would rather prove myself a gentleman by being learned and humble, valiant and inoffensive, virtuous and communicable, than by any fond ostentation of riches."

--_The Complete Angler._

Pastor Lindal accepted the invitation to join the yacht. He was anxious to know more of Mrs. Hardy, in whose hands he felt so much of his daughter's future lay.

Mrs. Hardy had, as she had done before every Sunday, attended the parish church, and Helga thanked her for the contents of the packet of Danish bank notes. It was more in amount, she said, than she wanted, and would return Mrs. Hardy three-fourths of it.

"It is very kind," said Helga; "but I can only accept what is positively necessary, and I accept that because it would relieve my father from an expense that he cannot well bear, and because John might wish to see me well dressed when I am married to him."

"Would you not like to make Kirstin and your father's other servants a present when you are married?" said Mrs. Hardy.

"Yes, I shall; but I cannot use your money to do that, Mrs. Hardy. I shall give them what I have of my own, and what they know I have valued; it is not much, but they would like it best."

This conversation had ended when they reached the parsonage, where Robert Garth was waiting with the carriage to drive Mrs. Hardy and her son to Rosendal.

"John," said Mrs. Hardy, as they drove away, "she is worthy of your best affection. There is not a day pa.s.ses but that something arises which makes me love her more and more." Mrs. Hardy loved again with her son's love.

"Mother," said John, "she is so dear to me; there is nothing that is not truth with her."

"You are right, John," said his mother. "Give her all your heart, and she will give you hers."

"I know it, mother," said John.

Pastor Lindal accompanied them to Aarhus, and when they came on board the yacht, John Hardy spread out the chart of the Danish islands before him.

"We can reach Nyborg to-night, Herr Pastor," said he, "and call and stop at Svendborg, and run round Men's Klint to Copenhagen, and pa.s.sing Elsinore to Aarhus again, stopping at any place on the way."

"But the time?" asked the Pastor.

"A week," replied John; "or you can land at any place, and return by rail in a few hours."

"No, Herr Pastor," interposed Mrs. Hardy, "you must not bind us to time. We shall see if the cruise is a benefit to you, and if so, you must prolong it."

The Pastor always surrendered when challenged by Mrs. Hardy.

Whilst they were at lunch, the _Rosendal_ steam yacht was pa.s.sing Sams.

"This island," said John Hardy, "appears from the chart to be a sand bank washed up by the sea."

"So is all Denmark," said Pastor Lindal. "The legends and traditions belonging to Sams, however, are not as old as those of Jutland, and it would therefore appear not to have been inhabited at so early a period. There is an historical tradition that in 1576 a mermaid appeared to a man of Sams, and directed him to go to Kallundborg, where King Frederick II. was then staying with his court, and tell him that his queen would have a son, which would become a mighty ruler.

The king questioned the man, who stated that the mermaid's name was Isbrand, and that she lived in the sea, not far from land, with her mother and grandmother, and that it was the latter that had foretold the birth of Queen Margrethe, who united the three Scandinavian kingdoms under one crown. King Frederick sent the man home, and commanded him not to come to the court again.

The king's son was Christian IV., under whose rule Denmark attained its zenith of power. Once, when Christian IV. was driven ash.o.r.e by a storm on Sams, he saw the priest's man ploughing. The king took the plough and ploughed a furrow, and told the man to tell his master that the king had ploughed for him."

"A good way to acquire popularity in those times," remarked Mrs. Hardy. "But are there any more stories of the kind?"

"There is the story of the Church of the Holy Cross. There is a tablet said to be yet in the church, on which there is an inscription,"

replied the Pastor. "This states that a gilt cross in the church was washed ash.o.r.e bound to a corpse, but that when they would take the corpse to a particular churchyard, that four horses could not move the waggon in which it was placed. They then tried to draw the waggon to another churchyard, with the same result; but at last they directed the horses to the church at Onsberg, and then two horses could easily draw it; so the corpse was buried in the eastern end of the church, and the church afterwards called the Church of the Holy Cross. The date is given as 1596. There is also a story of the Swedish war of 1658, when a party of Swedish cavalry took a tailor prisoner, and set him at work on a table in a farm-house, while they fired at a mark on the door, the b.a.l.l.s pa.s.sing close to his head. It is said the door yet exists, with the bullet marks in it."

"We have an island in sight, on the starboard bow, called Endelave; are there any traditions existing there?" asked Hardy.

"There is only the story of a giant who threw a stone from thence to Jutland, which was so large that two girls saved themselves from a bull by climbing to the top of it. There is, however, the variation that it was thrown by a giantess from Fyen (Funen) with her garter. I know of no special legend from Endelave."

"There is a town marked Kjerteminde on the chart; is that in recollection of anything specially historical, as would appear from the name?" asked Hardy.

"When Odin built the town called Odense," replied the Pastor, "the other towns were envious of its better appearance and condition, and particularly the town now called Kjerteminde, and complaint was made to Odin, who was angry, and replied, 'Vaer du mindre' (literally, 'be you less'); this was that they should continue to be smaller towns than Odense. In time the name from Vaer du mindre became altered to its present name of Kjerteminde. There is also the variation that the name is from St Gertrude's minde (memory) contracted to Kjerteminde. She was the sailors' patron saint."

"There is more to be said of Odense, as it was founded by Odin," said Mrs. Hardy.

"What I can tell you of Odense," said the Pastor, "is history, chiefly. There is the story that a rich man called Ubbe gave his property to St. Knud's (Canute) Church under singular circ.u.mstances.

His relatives wanted him to leave his property to them, and they placed a woman in his household, if possible, to influence him in their favour, and she did not. Ubbe had become blind. He directed some tripe to be cooked, possibly because his teeth were gone. The woman, however, having no tripe, cut up an old felt hat and gave him. This he chewed and chewed, when a little child told him what it was. He was angry at the deceit, and gave his property to the Church; and the name of a portion of his lands was changed from Ubberud to Kallun (tripe).

Odense is the birth-place of Hans Christian Andersen, whose stories have been translated into English," continued Pastor Lindal; "but, like other translations, they lose immeasurably by translation."

"What is the chief historical interest connected with Odense?" asked Mrs. Hardy.

"The death of St. Knud," replied the Pastor. "He was the grand-nephew of Canute the Great. He was killed in the church of St Alba.n.u.s, in 1086, by his rebellious subjects. He wanted to make war on England, as he claimed the English throne, and they resisted; so far it is history. The story is that he was pursued, and fled to the church, and prayed for his enemies. He saw a Jutland man looking at him through a window of the church, and the king asked for water. The man ran to a stream and fetched water in a cup; but as he reached it to the king, another man struck the cup with his spear, and the water was spilt, and the king was killed by a stone thrown at him. The man who had prevented the king getting the cup of water went out of his mind, and had always a burning thirst, and on going to a well to drink fell down, and stuck in it over the water, which he could not reach, and so perished. The king was canonized, but is said to occasionally visit the church, where he was buried, from his place amongst the angels.

This church he had just commenced to build. There is a story that when the tower was building, an apprentice told his master he was as good a builder. The master-builder went out of the tower on the scaffolding and stuck an axe into it, and told the apprentice to go and fetch it, if he could. The apprentice went, but called out that an adjoining village was approaching the town of Odense. 'Then G.o.d have mercy on your soul' said the master-builder. The apprentice fell to the ground and was killed. There is, however, a variation of this story, which localizes it in Copenhagen at Our Lady's Church there, and that the apprentice cried out that he saw two axes. The result was the same."

"Thank you very much, Herr Pastor," said Mrs. Hardy. "You must try and keep up the practice of speaking English." The Pastor was in the habit of falling back on his own language when he had a difficulty, for John Hardy to interpret.

"I think we should have but one language all over the world," said the Pastor, "and that language should be English."

"There is not much to see at Nyborg, mother," said John, "and the pilot says if we leave early to-morrow that we had best anchor outside the harbour, clear of the course of the steamers from Korsr. We shall have the anchor down at six, and we can go ash.o.r.e and have dinner a little before eight, and then the Pastor can hold his second tobacco-parliament before we turn in. We shall also have to engage another pilot, as it is difficult navigation to Svendborg; and if we start at six, we shall be there at eight to-morrow, which will enable us to see Svendborg and its pretty neighbourhood, and in the evening can anchor under shelter of Vaeir, an island, so as to reach Vordingborg early to-morrow."

Mrs. Hardy followed her son's explanation on the chart. He was himself the registered owner of his yacht, and acted as his own skipper when on board; and as his men had been with him in other yachts, of which he had been the owner, they had confidence in him, as they had seen his courage and seamanship again and again put to the proof.

"You are always self-reliant, John," said his mother.

"Yes; but Pastor Lindal has taught me on whom reliance should be placed," said John. "The simple trust he has and the simple faith of which he is convinced are in his life and practice. No sermon can have such influence as to be with him one day in his parish when he visits those he sees it necessary to visit. It is the simplicity of perfect truth about him that has made his daughter a pearl without price."

"I believe every word of what you say, John," said his mother. "She has now my heart as completely as she has yours."

There is not so much to see in Nyborg. The walk in the wood is pretty with its thoroughly Danish prospect, and there is little else to interest. Pastor Lindal was tired when they reached the yacht, but revived with the tonic effect of a good dinner. They adjourned to the deck-house, and Hardy essayed to fill the porcelain pipe with Kanaster, but failed. The pipe was too hard pressed with tobacco and would not draw, and it was not John Hardy only who missed Helga.

"Is there anything to relate about Nyborg, Herr Pastor?" asked Hardy.

"There is not much specially," replied the Pastor. "There is the story of the monkey taking Christian II. out of his cradle when there was a royal residence at Nyborg, and jumping out of the window with him, and taking him upon the roof, so that it was with difficulty that they got him down again. There is also the story of the ghost of Queen Helvig, who was married to Valdemar Atterdag. She is said to have appeared for years to the sentry on the ramparts, and to have always left a dollar under a stone, which he collected; but one day, he was sick, and told a comrade to fetch the dollar, but no dollars were placed under the stone after. Queen Helvig was imprisoned there for a long time, under a charge frequently preferred in those days."