«**i;f<
 
 UBPARY 
 ,ily cf California 
 IRVINE
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH 
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA
 
 — 1 
 
 WORKS OF 
 BJORNSTJERNE BJORNSON 
 
 PATRIOTS EDITION 
 
 The Bridal March 
 
 Captain mansana 
 
 Translated from the Norse 
 By 
 
 Rasivius B. Anderson 
 
 Mfei^SSSSgEiS^ 
 
 NEW YORK 
 DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY
 
 6"7/3 
 
 Copyright, 1882, 
 Br HOUGHTON, MIFi'LIN & CO. 
 
 All rig/its reserved.
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH
 
 FKEFAOE. 
 
 "The Bridal March" (Brudesiaatten; was pub- 
 lished in 1872, and was dedicated to Hans Christian 
 Andersen, the celebrated Danish story-teller. This 
 is the last of the author's peasant novels, and he will 
 probably never produce another. He has become 
 more and more deeply interested in the great social 
 and political questions of the century, and the stories 
 and dramas he now writes are imbued with the pro- 
 gressive spirit of the age. 
 
 The four striking illustrations in this volume were 
 made expressly for "The Bridal March" by Nor- 
 way's most distinguished genre painter, Adolf Tide- 
 mand, who was born in 1814 and died in 1876. He 
 made a specialty of illustrating the character, cus- 
 toms, and manners of Norwegian country life, and in 
 this field of art he has never been equaled by any 
 other Scandinavian painter. His delineation of faces, 
 interiors, the every-day life, and the solemnities 
 and festivities of the Norwegian peasantry, s(»cured
 
 g PEEFACE. 
 
 him the admiration of the world, and are as faithful 
 to reality as cue of Bjornson's peasant stories. I 
 doubt not that the four illustrations by Tidemand in 
 this volume will be studied with as much pleasure as 
 the story itself. 
 
 BASMUS B. ANDEBSUH. 
 
 ASOABD, MaDISOH, WiSCONgIN, 
 
 Mav. 18H9.
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 Theee dwelt in one of the larger mountain 
 valleys of Norway, some time during the last 
 century, a fiddler, whose name after him passed, 
 in a measure, into legendary lore. Quite an 
 array of songs and dances are ascribed to him ; 
 some of these, according to tradition, he learned 
 from the underground folk, one from the Evil 
 One himself, one he made for the purpose of 
 saving his life, etc. One of his tunes has be- 
 come famous beyond all the others, for its his- 
 tory did not end with his life, it really began 
 after he was dead. 
 
 The fiddler, Ole Haugen, a poor houseman 
 living far up the mountain, had a daughter 
 named Aslaug, who had inherited his fine head 
 and his musical talent, if not for playing at 
 least for everything else of the same nature ; 
 for she was easy and seK-possessed in conversa- 
 tion, in singing, in her walk, and in dancing; 
 and had, too, a very flexible voice, a common
 
 10 THE BRIDAL MABCH. 
 
 thing in her family. The third son of the an- 
 cient house of Tingvold, a young man, returned 
 from distant lands. His two brothers, both of 
 them older than he, had been drowned in a 
 freshet, and he was now heir to the gard. He 
 met Aslaug at a large wedding-party and fell 
 in love with her. It was an unheard-of thing 
 in those days for a gardman's son of so old and 
 prominent a family to woo one in Aslaug's cir- 
 cumstances and rank of life. This young man, 
 however, had been long absent from home, and 
 he gave his parents to understand that he had 
 ample means abroad for his support ; if he 
 could not have what he wanted at home, he 
 said, it mattered little to him what became of 
 the gard. It was universally prophesied thai 
 such disregard of his family and the inher- 
 itance of his forefathers, would bring its own 
 punishment ; it was said, too, that Ole Haugen 
 must have influenced him, and perhaps with 
 help that every mortal should fear. 
 
 While the struggle between the young man 
 and his parents was going on, Ole Haugen, so 
 it is stated, had been in the most excellent 
 spirits. But when the victory was won, he is 
 said to have announced that he had already 
 made a bridal march for the young couple ; it 
 tould never by any possibility be lost to the
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 11 
 
 house of Tingvold; but Heaven Have mercy 
 on the bride, he is furthermore charged with 
 having said, who did not drive to church to its 
 strains with as happy a heart as that of the 
 houseman's daughter from Haugen ! And this 
 led people to suspect some evil influence. 
 
 This is the tradition, and it is like so many 
 others. But something more reliable than tra- 
 dition is the fact, that in this as well as in other 
 mountain parishes there exists, even to the 
 present day, a lively taste for music and bal- 
 lads, and in past times it must have been still 
 keener. Such tastes can only be preserved 
 through those who are able to enlarge and em- 
 bellish the inherited treasure-stores, and Ole 
 Haugen certainly possessed this power to a re- 
 markable degree. 
 
 Tradition states, furthermore, that as Ole 
 Haugen's bridal march was the most joyous 
 one that had ever been heard, so the first bride 
 and groom that drove home to its music, after 
 having been conducted by the same to the 
 church door, and met there again by the glad 
 sounds at the conclusion of the ceremony, were 
 the happiest couple that had ever been seen. 
 And although the Tingvold family had always 
 been a handsome race, and after this time be- 
 came still more noted for its beauty, yet leg-
 
 / 
 
 12 THE BRIDAL MABCH. 
 
 endary lore stoutly asserts that this bridal pah 
 must carry o£E the palm through all coming 
 generations. 
 
 We pass now from tradition to firmer ground ; 
 for with Ole Haugen legendary lore dies ; after 
 him history begins. The latter tells us that 
 this bridal march became an heir-loom in thi 
 family, differing from other heir-looms, which 
 seldom are of any use ; for this was used^ that 
 is to say, the tune was sung, shouted, whistled, 
 tooted, played from house to stable, from the 
 home-fields to the woodland pasture ; and to its 
 glad strains the only child the couple ever had 
 was rocked and dandled in the arms of its 
 mother, its father, the nurse-maid, and the res^ 
 of the household servants ; and the first thing 
 it learned after its earliest tricks and words 
 was the bridal march. The child was called 
 Astrid. There was music in the family, and 
 particularly in this sprightly little girl, who 
 could soon sing with a tra-la-la, in a masterly 
 way, the bridal march, the victory shout of her 
 parents, the promise of her family. It was, in- 
 deed, no wonder that when she was grown up 
 Bhe insisted upon making her own choice of 
 a lover. Perhaps rumor has exaggerated the 
 number of Astrid's suitors; but one thing is 
 certain : this wealthy girl, with her refined
 
 THE BRIDAL MABCH. 13 
 
 nature, when over twenty-three years of age, 
 was not yet betrothed. Then at last the cause 
 of this came to light ! Several years before her 
 mother had taken in from the highway a bright 
 gypsy lad ; he was not really a gypsy lad, but 
 was called so, and especially by Astrid's mother 
 when it reached her ears that her daughter and 
 he had most strangely entered into a betrothal 
 up in the woodland pasture, and that now they 
 passed their time in singing the bridal march 
 to each other, she from the store-house roof, he 
 from the slope above. The youth was quickly 
 sent away; for now it appeared that no one 
 held more strictly to the " family " than the 
 former houseman's daughter. And the father 
 could not help thinking of the prophecy made 
 when he himself violated the customs of his 
 family. They of the house of Tingvold were 
 already giving their children in marriage to 
 people from the highway. Where would this 
 end ? The parish did not judge more leniently. 
 The gypsy lad — Knut was his name — had 
 taken to trading, especially in cattle, and was 
 tnown to every one. He was the first person 
 in this parish, indeed for miles round, who had 
 gone into the business on so large a scale. He 
 opened this avenue of trade, and thus procured 
 for the parishes better prices for their stock,
 
 14 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 and increased the wealth of many a family. 
 But this did not prevent carousing and fight- 
 ing from following in his footsteps wherever he 
 went, and this was the only thing that people 
 talked about ; for his worth as a trader they did 
 not yet imderstand. By the time Astrid was 
 twenty-three years old, it had become pretty 
 evident that either the gard must pass out of 
 the direct line of descent, or this man would 
 have to be taken into it ; for Astrid's parents 
 had, through their own marriage, lost the moral 
 power which might have enabled them to take 
 compulsory measures. So Astrid had her way : 
 the lively, handsome Knut drove to church 
 with her one fine day, at the head of an im- 
 mense procession. The bridal march of the 
 house of Tiugvold, the grandfather's master- 
 piece, flashed back over the train of followers, 
 and the young couple sat as though they were 
 joining in the merry tune with a low tra-la-la, 
 for they looked very blithe and gay. People 
 were astonished to see that the parents also 
 seemed in good spirits ; they had made such 
 long and persevering resistance. 
 
 After the wedding, Knut undertook the man- 
 agement of the farm, and the old people had a 
 yearly allowance made them ; but this was so 
 large that no one could understand how Knut
 
 THE BRIDAL MABCH. 16 
 
 and Astrid were able to afford it ; for although 
 the gard was the largest in the parish, it was 
 far from being in a good condition. Nor was 
 this all ; the working force was increased three- 
 fold, and new methods were introduced at an 
 expense hitherto unheard of in that region. 
 Certain ruin was predicted for him. But the 
 "gypsy lad," as Knut was still called, main- 
 tained his cheerfulness, and his high spirits in- 
 jected Astrid. The delicate, shy maiden of 
 yore had become a stirring, robust housewife. 
 Her parents were consoled. At last people 
 began to find out that Knut had brought to 
 Tingvold what no one had had there before : 
 capital for carrying on the farming ! He had, 
 moreover, brought large experience from his 
 rambling life, besides a faculty for handling 
 merchandise and money, and for keeping la- 
 borers and servants good-natured and cheerful ; 
 and so at the end of twelve years Tingvold 
 could scarcely have been recognized. The 
 houses were entirely changed, the farm stock 
 was increased threefold, and was three times 
 better kept than before, and Knut himself in a 
 dress-coat, with a " meerschaum pipe," and a 
 glass of toddy, passed his evenings with the 
 captain, the priest, and the lensmand. Astrid 
 adored him as the wisest and best man on earth ;
 
 16 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 and she herself told that in his youth he now and 
 then got into fights and drank too much, simply 
 that rumors of his doings might reach her ears 
 and alarm her ; " for he was such a shrewd fel- 
 low." She followed his example in everything, 
 except in making a change in her dress and 
 habits ; she preferred keeping to the peasant 
 customs and dress. Knut always allowed others 
 to follow their own inclinations ; and so no dis- 
 cord entered his home because of Astrid's 
 wishes. He lived his own way and she waited 
 on him. It was a frugal life he led, be it ob- 
 served ; he was too sensible to care to make a 
 great noise or to incur heavy expense. Some 
 said that he made at card-playing, and through 
 the importance and associations it opened to 
 him, more than it cost him to live ; but this 
 was doubtless mere scandal. 
 
 They had several children, whose history does 
 not concern us ; but the eldest son,' Endrid, who 
 was to succeed to the gard, was also expected 
 to increase its honors. He was handsome, like 
 all the rest of his family ; but his mind was 
 only adapted to common-place affairs, as may 
 often be observed in the children of enterpris- 
 ing parents. His father early noticed this, 
 and resolved to supply the boy's deficiencies 
 through a superior education. For this reason
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 17 
 
 the children had a private tutor ; aud Endrid, 
 when grown, was sent to one of the agricultural 
 schools, which at this time were just being im- 
 proved, and later to the city. He came home 
 again a quiet boy, who showed marks of over- 
 study, and who had fewer city habits than 
 could have been anticipated, or than his father 
 desired. Endrid was, in fact, by no means 
 quick at learning. 
 
 Numerous were the speculations made on 
 this boy, both by the captain and the priest, 
 each of whom had several daughters ; but if 
 this were the cause of the increased considera- 
 tion they showed Knut, they deceived them- 
 selves very badly indeed, for Knut so thor- 
 oughly despised a marriage with a poor cap- 
 tain's or priest's daughter, who was without 
 preparation for the management of the affairs 
 of a large gard, that he did not even deem it 
 worth his while to warn his son. Nor was it 
 needful that he should : the young man saw as 
 clearly as he that the family required something 
 more than merely being raised to prosperity, 
 and that it must now mingle with the blood of 
 those who were its equals in age and respecta- 
 bility. But the misfortune was that the youth 
 was somewhat awkward when he went on his 
 matrimonial errands, and people mistrusted him. 
 8
 
 a8 the bridal maboh. 
 
 This might not have made so much difference 
 had he not gained the reputation of being on 
 the lookout for a good match, and peasants are 
 always shy of one of whom such things are 
 said. Endrid himself soon noticed this ; for if 
 he was not very shrewd, he was, on the other 
 hand, extremely sensitive. He perceived that 
 it in nowise bettered his situation that he had 
 the clothes and manners of the city, as people 
 said. And as at bottom there was something 
 really worthy in thie boy, the effect of his mor 
 tification was that he gradually laid aside his 
 city dress and city speech and set to work on 
 his father's immense gard, like any common 
 laborer. His father understood it all ; indeed, 
 he knew before the young man understood it 
 himself, and he begged the boy's mother not to 
 appear to notice anything. Therefore they said 
 nothing to their son about marriage, and no 
 further heed was paid to the change which had 
 taken place in him, than that his father, with 
 ever-increasing kindness of manner, admitted 
 him to his plans about the farming and other 
 family concerns, and gradually placed the en- 
 tire management of the gard in his son's hands. 
 He never had cause to regret having done so. 
 
 Thus matters stood with the son until he was 
 Jiirty-one years old, having increased his fa*
 
 THE BRIDAL MABCH. 19 
 
 fcher's property and his own experience and pru- 
 dence. During all this time he had made no 
 attempt, no, not the slightest, to court any of 
 the girls in or out of the parish, and now his 
 parents began to grow seriously uneasy lest he 
 had entirely put marriage out of his head. 
 But this he had not done. 
 
 In the neighboring gard there lived, in good 
 circumstances, a family of the best blood in the 
 parish, and one that had several times, too, in- 
 termarried with the ancient house of Tingvold. 
 There grew up there a young girl, in whom 
 Endrid had taken an interest from the time 
 she was a little child ; very likely he had in se- 
 cret set his heart on her, for only half a year 
 after her confirmation he offered himself to her. 
 She was seventeen years old, he thirty-one. 
 Randi, that was her name, could not at once 
 nake up her mind what answer she should give 
 lim ; she went to her parents about it, but they 
 told her they would leave it entirely to herself. 
 They thought Endrid was a most worthy man, 
 and that, as far as property went, this was the 
 best match she could make. The difference in 
 age was great, and she must herself decide 
 whether she, young as she was, had the cour- 
 age to assume the responsibilities of the lai^ 
 gard and the many unfamiliar duties. Randi
 
 20 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 knew very well that her parents would rathei 
 have her say Yes than No ; but she was really 
 alarmed. So she went over to see Endrid's 
 mother, whom she had always liked. She took 
 it for granted that his mother knew of his suit, 
 but found to her astonishment that she knew 
 nothing about it. The good mother was so de- 
 lighted that she used all her powers of persua- 
 sion to induce Randi to say Yes. 
 
 " I will help you," said she. " Father will 
 not accept any annuity ; he has his own means, 
 and he does not want his children to grudge 
 him his life. There will at once be a general 
 division of the property, and the little which 
 we shall hereafter have for our support will 
 then be divided after we are gone. From this 
 you can judge that you will not be taking on 
 yourself any annoyances so far as we are con- 
 cerned." 
 
 Yes, Randi knew very well that Astrid and 
 Knut were kind. 
 
 " And our boy," continued Astrid, "is good 
 and considerate." 
 
 Yes, Randi had learned that for herself ; she 
 was not afraid of getting on with him — if she 
 were only worthy herself. 
 
 A few days later the matter was settled, and 
 if Endrid was happy, so too were his parents
 
 THE BRIDAL MABCH. 21 
 
 for he was about to marry into a highly-es- 
 teemed family, and the girl herself was so pretty 
 and so sensible that in those respects there had 
 perhaps never been a better match in the par- 
 ish. The old people of both families conferred 
 together about the wedding, which was arranged 
 to take place just before harvest, for there was 
 no occasion for waiting in this case. 
 
 The parish, meanwhile, did not receive these 
 tidings in the same manner as the parties inter- 
 ested. It was thought that the pretty young 
 girl had " sold herself." She was so young that 
 she could scarcely know what marriage meant, 
 and the wily Knut had no doubt urged his son 
 on before the girl was as yet ready for suitors. 
 A little of this talk reached Randi's ears, but 
 Endrid was so affectionate, and that in such a 
 quiet, almost humble way, that she would not 
 break with him, yet she grew rather cold. 
 The parents of both had no doubt also heard 
 one thing and another, but acted as though all 
 were well. 
 
 The marriage was to be celebrated in grand 
 style, perhaps just to defy gossip, and for that 
 same reason the preparations were not displeas- 
 ing to Randi. Knut's associates, the priest, 
 the captain, and the lensmand, with the whole 
 of their large families, were to accompany the
 
 22 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 bridal party to church. That was why Knut 
 did not wish any fiddling — it was too old-fash- 
 ioned and countrified ; but Astrid insisted that 
 the bridal march of the family must conduct 
 the young couple to church and thence back 
 home again ; they had been too happy with it 
 themselves, she said, not to have the satisfac- 
 tion of enjoying its repetition on the marriage 
 day of their dear children. Knut did not 
 trouble himself much about poetry and things 
 of that sort ; he let his wife settle the matter. 
 A hint was given to the bride's parents, there- 
 fore, that the fiddlers might be engaged, and 
 the old march, which had been allowed to rest 
 for a while, because the present representatives 
 of the family worked without song, was re 
 quested. 
 
 The wedding day unfortunately set in with 
 a furious autumnal rain. The fiddlers were 
 forced to cover up their instruments after hav- 
 ing played the party out of the gard, and they 
 did not bring them forth again until they had 
 gone far enough to hear the church-bells ring- 
 ing. A boy was obliged to stand behind them 
 on the cart holding an umbrella over them, and 
 beneath it they sat huddled together, scraping 
 away. The march did not sound well in such 
 weather, as might be expected, neither did the
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 23 
 
 bridal party that followed look happy. The 
 bridegroom had his wedding hat tucked away 
 between his knees, and a southwester on his 
 head ; he had a large leathern jacket drawn 
 over his shoulders, and he held an umbrella over 
 the bride, who had kerchief upon kerchief 
 wrapped about her to protect her crown and 
 the rest of her finery, and who had rather the 
 appearance of a hay-mow than a human being. 
 Thus they drove on, cart after cart, the men 
 dripping, the women bundled up and concealed 
 from view ; it was a mysterious sort of a bridal 
 party, in which not a face could be seen or rec- 
 ognized, only a quantity of rolled up heaps of 
 wool or fur stowed closely together. The un- 
 usually great throng that had gathered along 
 the road-side to see the wealthy bridal party 
 pass by had to laugh, at first in suppressed 
 tones, but finally louder and louder, as each 
 cart passed. Near the large house where the 
 party had to alight to arrange their dress be- 
 fore entering the church, a peddler, a droll fel- 
 low, whose name was Aslak, was standing on a 
 hay-cart which had driven out of the way into 
 the corner by the shed. Just as the bride was 
 being lifted out of the cart, he shouted, — 
 
 " The deuce a bit will Ole Haugen's bridal 
 march sound to-day I "
 
 24 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 A laugh arose in the crowd, and the almost 
 universal effort to suppress this only made it 
 the more apparent what every one thought and 
 was striving to conceal. 
 
 When the kerchiefs were removed from the 
 bride, they saw that she was as white as a 
 sheet. She wept, tried to laugh, then wept 
 again, and then all at once she took it into her 
 head that she would not go to church ! Amid 
 the commotion that now followed, she had to 
 be laid down on a bed in a side-room, for she 
 was seized with a fit of weeping that alarmed 
 every one. Her worthy parents stood by, and 
 when she implored them to spare her from 
 going into church, they said that she must do 
 as she pleased. Then her eyes sought Endrid. 
 Any one so unhappy, aye, so utterly helpless, 
 she had never seen, for to him there had been 
 truth in their compact. At his side stood his 
 mother ; she said nothing and not a muscle of 
 her face moved. But tear after tear trickled 
 down her cheeks ; her eyes hung on Randi's. 
 At last Randi raised herself up on her elbows, 
 stared for a while right before her, sobbing 
 through her tears, and presently she said, — 
 
 " Oh yes ! I will go to church." 
 
 Then flinging herself back on the pillow 
 ftgain, she wept for a time, bitterly j but after
 
 THE BBIDAL MABOH. 25 
 
 this she rose. Later she added, that she did 
 not want any more music, and she was allowed 
 to have her way. But the dismissed fiddlers 
 did not improve the story when they mingled 
 with the crowd outside. 
 
 It was a sorry bridal procession which now 
 moved toward the church. The rain, of course, 
 permitted the bride and bridegroom to hide 
 their faces from the curiosity of the multitude 
 until they entered the church; but they felt 
 that they were running the gauntlet and that 
 their own large company were ill pleased at 
 having been deluded into taking part in sach a 
 fool's errand. 
 
 The famous fiddler, Ole Haugen, was buried 
 close by the church door. By common consent 
 his grave had been protected : one of his family 
 had placed a new head-board there, as the old 
 one had decayed around the bottom. The 
 head-board was shaped like a wheel at the top, 
 Ole himself had left orders to have it so. The 
 grave was on a sunny spot, and coimtless wild 
 flowers grew there. Every church-goer that 
 had ever stood by this grave, knew, from one 
 Bource or another, that a man who at state ex- 
 pense had been collecting plants and flowers in 
 the surrounding villages and mountains, had 
 found flowers on this grave which did not grow
 
 26 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 for miles around. The effect was, that the 
 peasants who usually cared little for what they 
 called " weeds," felt an inquisitive delight in 
 these flowers, perhaps too, an inquisitive shy- 
 ness ; some of the flowers were uncommonly 
 pretty. Now as the bridal pair walked past 
 this grave, Endrid, who held Randi by the 
 hand, noticed that a shudder ran through her ; 
 for it seemed to her that Ole Haugen's ghost 
 had been walking to-day. Immediately after- 
 ward her tears began to flow again, conse- 
 quently she entered the church weeping, and 
 was led weeping to her seat. Thus no bride 
 had been known to come into this church in 
 the memory of man. 
 
 Randi felt, as she sat there, that she was now 
 confirming the rumor that was afloat about her 
 having been sold. The terrible disgrace to her 
 parents that there was in this, caused her to 
 grow cold and for a while to be able to restrain 
 her tears. But at the altar she became agi- 
 tated again over some remark or other of the 
 priest, and at once all that she had experienced 
 this day rushed upon her ; it seemed to her for 
 ft time as though she could never look people 
 in the eyes again, least of all her parents. 
 
 All the rest is but a repetition of what we 
 have been over, and therefore there is nothing
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 27 
 
 further to report except that she could not sit 
 down to dinner with the company, and when 
 entreaties and threats brought her to the sup- 
 per-table she spoiled all pleasure there and had 
 to be taken to bed. The wedding party that 
 was to have lasted several days, broke up that 
 same evening, " The bride was ill," it was an- 
 nounced. 
 
 Although no one believed this, it was, never- 
 theless, but too true. Randi was no longer 
 well, nor was she ever very hearty again. And 
 one of the results was that the first child of 
 this couple was sickly. The love of the parents 
 for this little one was naturally none the less 
 devoted, because they both understood that 
 they were, in a certain way, responsible for its 
 Buffering. They associated with no one except 
 this child ; to church they never went ; they 
 were afraid of people. For two yeai's God 
 granted them their happiness with their child, 
 and then He took this too. 
 
 The first clear thought they could command 
 after this blow was that they had been too fond 
 of the child. That was why they had lost it. 
 And so when another child was born unto 
 them, it seemed as if neither of them dared be- 
 Btow much affection on it. But the child, who 
 in the beginning appeared as sickly as the first,
 
 28 THE BBIDAL MABCH. 
 
 revived, and became much more sprightly than 
 he other had been, so that its oharms were 
 irresistible. A new, pure joy entered their 
 hearts; they could forget what had befallen 
 them when they were with their child. When 
 the little one was two years old, God took it 
 also. 
 
 There are some people who are singled out 
 Vy sorrow. They are just the very ones who 
 seem to us least to need it, but they are, never- 
 theless, best fitted to bear testimony of faith 
 and self-deuial. This couple had early sought 
 God together ; henceforth their sole communion 
 was with Him. There had long been a hush 
 over life at Tingvold, now it became like a 
 church before the priest enters. Work went on 
 undisturbed, but between every hour ot labor 
 Endrid and Randi had a little time of devotion, 
 in which they communed with those on tho 
 other side. It caused no change when, shortly 
 after the last loss, Randi gave birth to a daugh- 
 ter ; the two children who had died were sons, 
 and a girl was for this reason hardly acceptable 
 to the parents. Moreover, they knew not if 
 she would be spared to them. But the health 
 and happiness the mother had enjoyed just be- 
 fore the loss of the last boy had been of advan- 
 tage to the child she was then expecting ; it
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 29 
 
 early proved to be an unusually lively little 
 girl, with the mother's fair face in the bud. 
 The temptation again came over these two 
 lonely people to cling to their child with hope 
 and joy ; but the fateful two years had not yet 
 come, and when it did arrive, it seemed to them 
 as if they had merely gained a respite. They 
 dared not yield to their feelings. 
 
 The two old people had held themselves 
 much aloof. For the mood that controlled the 
 others could be approached neither with words 
 of consolation nor with the joys of others. 
 Knut was, moreover, too fond of worldly pleas- 
 ure to remain long in a house of mourning or 
 to be forever taking part in devotional exer- 
 cises. So he moved over to a small farm which 
 he owned, and which he hitherto had rented ; 
 now he took it himself and put it in such fine, 
 tasteful order for his dear Astrid that she, who 
 would greatly have preferred being at Ting- 
 void, remained where he was, and laughed with 
 him instead of weeping with their children. 
 
 One day when Astrid went over to visit her 
 daughter-in-law, she saw little Mildred, and she 
 observed that the child was left entirely to her- 
 self; the mother scarcely ventured to touch her. 
 Moreover, the grandmother noticed that when 
 the father came in, he manifested the same sor-
 
 80 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 rowf ul reserve toward his only child. Astrid 
 concealed lier thoughts, but when she got home 
 to her own dear Knut, she represented to him 
 what a wretched state of affairs there was at 
 Tingvold ; there was now their place. Little 
 Mildred ought to have some one who was not 
 afraid to take pleasure in her; for there was 
 growing up something very fine and fair for 
 the family in this child. Knut was impressed 
 by his wife's eager zeal, and both the old peo- 
 ple packed up and went home. 
 
 Mildred thus became the special care of the 
 grandparents, and the old people taught the 
 parents to love the child. But when Mildred 
 was five years old there was born to the house 
 another daughter, who was named Beret, and 
 the result was that Mildred passed most of her 
 time with the old people. 
 
 Now the frightened parents once more began 
 to dare believe in life ! To this the change in 
 the atmosphere about them contributed not a 
 little. After the loss of the second child peo- 
 ple always noticed that they had wept, but 
 never saw them in tears ; their sorrow was very 
 unobtrusive. 
 
 The peaceful, pious life at Tingvold, bound 
 tKe servants to the place ; and many words ot 
 praise of the master and mistress were spoken
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 81 
 
 abroad. They became sensible of this them- 
 Belves. Both relatives and friends began to 
 seek them out and continued to do so, even 
 though the Tingvold family made no return. 
 
 But at church they had not been since their 
 wedding-day. They partook of the sacrament 
 at home, and conducted their own devotional 
 services. But when the second girl was born 
 they felt a desire to be her sponsors themselves, 
 so for the first time they ventured to church. 
 Upon this occasion they visited together the 
 graves of their children, and they walked past 
 Ole Haugen's resting-place without a word or 
 a gesture, and all the people showed them re- 
 spect. Nevertheless, they continued to live to 
 themselves, and a pious hush lay over the whole 
 gard. 
 
 Here one day, at her grandmother's house, 
 little Mildred sang the bridal march. In great 
 alarm old Astrid stopped her work and asked 
 the child where in all the world she had learned 
 this tune. Mildred replied that she had learned 
 it of her. 
 
 Old Knut who was sitting there had a good 
 laugh at this, for he knew very well that As- 
 trid had a habit of humming it when she had 
 any work that kept her sitting still. But now 
 (ittle Mildred was begged by both grandpar
 
 32 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 ents not to sing the tune when her parents could 
 hear. A child is very apt to ask " why ? " But 
 when Mildred did so, she received no reply. 
 After this the little girl heard the new herd-boy 
 singing the tune one evening while he was 
 chopping wood. She told this to her grand- 
 mother who had also heard it ; but Astrid only 
 remarked : " Ah, he will never grow old here ! " 
 and sure enough, the next day the boy was sent 
 away. There was no reason given him ; he sim- 
 ply was paid his wages and dismissed. Now 
 Mildred became so excited that her grand- 
 mother had to endeavor to tell her the history 
 of the bridal march. The little eight-years old 
 girl understood it pretty well, and what she 
 did not understand then became clear to her 
 later. The story exercised on her childhood an 
 influence which nothing else ever did or could 
 produce : it laid the foundation for her future 
 relations to her parents. 
 
 Children have an astonishingly early per- 
 ception of and sympathy for those who are 
 unhappy. Mildred felt that in the presence of 
 her parents all should be still. This was not 
 difficult to put into practice ; for they were so 
 gentle and talked to her so incessantly about 
 the kind heavenly Friend of little children, that 
 the room glowed with a magic light. But the
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 38 
 
 story of the bridal marcli gave her a touching 
 comprehension of what they had passed through. 
 Painful memories she carefully avoided, and 
 manifested a heartfelt affection in all that she 
 dared share with them, and this was their pi- 
 ety, their truthfulness, their quiet ways, their 
 industry. As Beret grew up, she gradually 
 learned to do the same ; for woman's vocation 
 as an educator is awakened from childhood up. 
 
 In the society of the grandparents the spirits 
 that in the family home were under restraint 
 flowed freely. Here there was singing and 
 dancing ; games were played and nursery tales 
 told. And thus the sisters, as they were grow- 
 ing up, divided their time between deep devo- 
 tion to their melancholy parents in the quiet 
 family sitting-room, and the merry life in the 
 home of their grandparents ; but it was so 
 gently divided that it was their parents who 
 besought them to go enjoy themselves with the 
 old people ; and the old people who entreated 
 them go back to their parents and " be right 
 good girls." 
 
 When a girl of from twelve to sixteen years 
 of age takes into her full confidence a sister of 
 from seven to eleven, she gains as a reward au 
 unbounded devotion. But the younger one is 
 upt to become a little too matured thereby. 
 
 3
 
 84 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 Mildred herself, on the other hand, was the 
 gainer in becoming forbearing, compassionate, 
 sympathetic, affable, and she became a source 
 of silent joy to both parents and grandparents. 
 
 There is nothing further to narrate until 
 Mildred entered her fifteenth year ; then old 
 Knut died, suddenly and easily. Scarcely a 
 moment passed from the time he sat jesting in 
 his home until he lay there a corpse. 
 
 The pleasantest thing the grandmother knew 
 after his death was to have Mildred on the lit- 
 tle cricket at her feet, where she had been in 
 the habit of having her sit from the time Mil- 
 dred was small, and either herself to tell the 
 child about Knut, or to have Mildred sing, with 
 a low tra-la-la, the bridal march. In its tones 
 Astrid saw Knut's vigorous, dark head emerge 
 from her childhood ; in listening to it she could 
 '^ollow him over the grassy slopes of the gard, 
 where as a herd-boy he used to blow his horn » 
 in it she drove to church at his side; in it his 
 merry, clever image most distinctly rose up be- 
 fore her. But in Mildred's soul there began to 
 stir new emotions. While she sat singing to 
 her grandmother, she asked herself : " Will this 
 bridal march ever be played for me? " 
 
 From the moment this question presented 
 itself to her, it grew; the march became aU
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 35 
 
 aglow with a calm, peaceful happiness. She 
 saw a bridal crown glittering in its sunshine, 
 which opened out a long, bright future for her 
 to ride forward in. She reached the age of six- 
 teen, and she asked herself : " Shall I — ah ! 
 shall I ever drive after it myself, followed by- 
 father and mother, past a crowd of people who 
 do not laugh, alight with a joyous heart where 
 mother wept, walk past Ole Haugen's grave, 
 and up to the altar in such radiant bliss that 
 father and mother shall have amends for all 
 that they have suffered ? " 
 
 This was the first train of thought she did 
 not confide to Beret. As time wore on there 
 came to be others. Beret, who was now in 
 her twelfth year, saw plainly that she was left 
 more to herself than she had been, but did not 
 exactly understand that she was being set aside 
 until another was in possession of her privi- 
 leges. This was the eighteen -years-old, just 
 betrothed, Inga, their cousin who lived on the 
 neighboring gard. When Beret saw her and 
 Mildred go whispering and laughing across the 
 fields, with their arms entwined about each 
 other, after the wont of young girls, she was 
 ready to fling herself down and weep with jeal- 
 ousy. 
 
 Mildred was now preparing for confirmation ;
 
 36 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 thus slie became acquainted with those of her 
 own age, and some of them came on Sundays 
 up to Tingvold. They spent their time out in 
 the fields, or in grandmother's house. Ting- 
 vold had indeed hitherto been a closed land of 
 promise to the young people of the parish. Nor 
 did there now come any but tliose of a certain 
 gentle, quiet nature, for it could not be denied 
 that there was something subdued about Mil- 
 dred that attracted but few. 
 
 In those days there was a great deal of sing- 
 ing going on among tlie young people. Such 
 things are never accidental ; nevertheless they 
 have their seasons, and these seasons again have 
 their leaders. Among the latter, oddly enough, 
 there was once more a member of the Haugen 
 family. Wherever there can be found a peo- 
 ple, among whom, however many hundred 
 years past it may have been, almost every man 
 and woman have sought and found in song 
 an expression for their deepest feelings and 
 thoughts, and have been themselves able to 
 make the verses which bore the outpourings of 
 their souls, — there the art can never so entirely 
 die out but that it may still live at some par- 
 ish merry-making, and can easily be awakened 
 even where it has not been heard for a long 
 time. In this parish there had been mado
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 87 
 
 many verses, and much music from time out of 
 mind ; it was neither from nothing nor for 
 nothing that Ole Haugen was born here. And 
 now it was his son's son in whom the musical 
 taste of the family lived. Ole Haugen's son had 
 been so much younger than the daughter who 
 had married into the Tiugvold family, that she 
 as a married woman had stood sponsor for him. 
 After many changes of fortune, he had, when 
 quite an old man, become proprietor of his 
 father's freeholder's place up the mountain, 
 and singularly enough he had then married for 
 the first time. Several children were born to 
 him, and among them a son, who was called 
 Hans, and who seemed to have inherited his 
 grandfather's talents, not exactly for fiddling, 
 although he did play, but rather for singing old 
 songs and sometimes composing new ones. His 
 taste for music was largely increased through 
 his knowing so few people, although he lived 
 right in their midst. Moreover, there were, in- 
 deed, not many who had seen him. The fact 
 was, his old father had been a huntsman, and 
 before his sons were very large the old man 
 used to sit on the hill-side and teach them to 
 load and take aim. His delight is said to have 
 been exceedingly great when the little fellows 
 could earn the powder and shot they need.
 
 88 THE BRroAL MARCH. 
 
 Beyond this he never got. Their mother died 
 a short time after him, so the children were 
 left to take care of themselves, and they did so. 
 The boys went hunting, and the girls managed 
 the place on the mountain. They attracted 
 attention when, once in a while, they made 
 their appearance in the valley, but this was not 
 often, for in the winter there was no path, and 
 they had to be content with the trips about 
 the surrounding neighborhood which must be 
 made to sell and carry to its destination their 
 game ; and in the summer they were kept in the 
 mountains with travelers. Their place was the 
 highest one in the parish ; it was celebrated for 
 having that pure mountain air which is more 
 successful in healing lung weaknesses and shat- 
 tered neiwes than any known medicine, and so 
 every year it was overrun with people from 
 town or from abroad. The family added sev- 
 eral buildings to their place ; but still their 
 rooms were filled. From poor, aye, pitiably 
 poor people, these brothers and sisters had thus 
 worked their way up to prosperity. Inter- 
 course with so many strangers had given them 
 a peculiar stamp ; they had even learned some- 
 thing of the foreign languages. Several years 
 before Hans had bought the place of his broth 
 ers and sisters, so that it stood in his name ; he 
 was at this time twenty-eight years old.
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 39 
 
 None of them had ever set foot in the home 
 of their Tingvold relatives. Endrid and Randi 
 Tingvold had certainly not consciously forbid- 
 den this ; but they could tolerate the mention 
 of the name Haugen as little as they could 
 the sound of the bridal march. The poor fa- 
 ther of these children had upon one occasion 
 been made to feel this, and so Hans forbade his 
 brothers and sisters to go there. But the Ting- 
 vold girls, who took so much pleasure in sing- 
 ing, had an incredible desire to know Hans, 
 and felt ashamed that their parents had neg- 
 lected these relatives. In the recent gatherings 
 of girls at the gard, there were more questions 
 asked and more anecdotes told about Hans and 
 his brothers and sisters than about anything 
 else. 
 
 In the midst of this delightful period of song 
 and social intercourse, Mildred was confirmed, 
 at the approach of her seventeenth year. A lit- 
 tle while before this all had been quiet about 
 her ; a short time after it was the same. But 
 in the spring, or rather in the summer, she was 
 to go up to the saeter with the cattle, as all 
 girls do after they are confirmed. She was ex- 
 ceedingly glad ! Her betrothed friend Inga 
 was to be at the neighboring saster. 
 
 Beret was to be allowed to accompany her
 
 40 THE BRIDAL M\RCH. 
 
 sister to the saeter, aud Mildred's longing af- 
 fected her also. But when they got up to the 
 SEeter, where Beret became completely absorbed 
 in all the unaccustomed surroundings, Mildred 
 continued to be as restless as before ; she went 
 about her work with the cattle and the dairy in 
 an absent-minded manner ; but the long weary 
 time that still remained hung heavily on her 
 hands. For hours together she would sit with 
 Inga, listening while she talked of her lover, 
 then would not go near her for days. If Inga 
 came to see her, she was pleased and affection- 
 ate, and acted as though she repented her faith- 
 lessness, but she soon grew tired of her again. 
 She seldom had anything to say to Beret, and 
 often when Beret addressed her the child got no 
 other answers than Yes and No. Beret went 
 weeping after the cattle and joined the herd- 
 boys. Mildred felt that there was something 
 in all this that had been broken to pieces ; but 
 with the best will she knew not how to mend it. 
 With such thoughts as these, she was one 
 day sitting in the vicinity of the saeter green. 
 Some goats had found their opportunity to 
 straggle away from the flock, and she had to 
 watch them. It was in the forenoon of a warm 
 day ; she sat m the shade of a ridge overgrown 
 with young trees and birch ; she had thrown off
 
 THE BRroAL MABCH. 41 
 
 her jacket and taken out her knitting. She 
 was expecting Inga. She heard a rustling be- 
 hind her. "There she comes," thought she, 
 and looked up. 
 
 But a louder noise followed than it seemed 
 to her Inga could make ; the bushes crackled 
 and creaked under a heavy tread; Mildred 
 grew pale and started up, and saw a rim of fur 
 and a pair of blinking eyes underneath ; it 
 must be a bear's head ! She felt a desire to 
 scream, but could not find voice ; she wanted to 
 spring up, but could not stir. Then the object 
 that had startled her was drawn up full length 
 before her ; it proved to be a tall, broad-shoul- 
 dered man, with a fur cap and a gun in his hand. 
 He paused suddenly among the young trees 
 and looked at her. His eyes were keen, but in 
 constant motion ; he made a few steps for- 
 ward, then with a bound stood on the green- 
 sward at her side. Something brushed against 
 her knee ; she gave a low scream. It was his 
 dog, whom she had not seen before. 
 
 "Ugh!" cried she. "I almost thought it 
 was a bear that was trampling down the young 
 trees, that is the reason why I was so fright- 
 ened." 
 
 She tried to laugh. 
 
 " Ah, you were not far from the truth ! " said
 
 42 THE BRIDAL MABCH. 
 
 he, and he spoke with extraordinary gentleness. 
 " Kvas and I were just on the track of a bear, 
 but we have lost it ; and if there be any wraith ^ 
 accompanying me^ it is certainly a bear." 
 
 He smiled. She stared at him. What sort 
 of a person was this ? Tall, broad-shouldered, 
 with eyes that were constantly changing, so 
 that she could not look into them ; and thus he 
 stood close beside her as if he had sprung out 
 of the earth, with his gun and his dog. She 
 felt a strong impulse to say : " Go away from 
 me ! " but instead she herself drew back a few 
 paces, and asked : " Who are you ? " for she 
 was actually afraid. 
 
 " Hans Haugen," he replied absently ; for 
 his attention had been called to the dog, that 
 had evidently found the scent again. He 
 turned hastily toward her to say farewell ; but 
 when he looked at her he saw the young girl 
 standing before him, with the hot blood gush- 
 ing up in streams over cheeks, neck, and throat. 
 
 " What is the matter I " cried he, astonished. 
 
 She knew not what to do, whether she should 
 run away, turn round, or sit down. 
 
 " Who are you? asked he. 
 
 At once she was again bathed in blushes 
 
 1 The old superstition, that every man has his wraith (vardoger 
 in his train (an invisible animal, which is an oxprossion of hi; 
 tatore), is still common among the peasants. — Tkanslatob.
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 43 
 
 for to tell him her name would be to explain 
 all she had in thought in regard to him. 
 
 " Who are you?" he asked once more, — which 
 was the most natural question in the world, and 
 certainly deserved an answer ; nor could she 
 refuse one; she felt ashamed of herself and 
 ashamed of her parents that they could have 
 neglected their own kinsfolk; but the name 
 must be spoken. 
 
 " Mildred Tingvold," she whispered, and 
 burst into tears. 
 
 Aye, to be sure ; none of the Tingvold fam- 
 ily had he ever before of his own free will 
 addressed. But what had now occurred was 
 different from anything he had imagined; he 
 fixed a pair of large eyes on her. There flitted 
 through his memory the story about her moth- 
 er's weeping like this in church on her wedding- 
 day; perhaps it runs in the family, thought he, 
 and felt a desire to get away fi'om it. 
 
 "You must excuse me, if I have alarmed 
 you," said he, and followed the dog ; it was al- 
 ready bounding over the ridge. 
 
 When she ventured to raise her eyes, he had 
 just neared the crest, and he turned and looked 
 at her. It was but for a moment, for just then 
 the dog barked on the other side ; it startled 
 him, he raised his gun and was off. Mildred
 
 44 THE BRIDAL MABCH. 
 
 remained motionless with her eyes fixed on the 
 Bpot where he had stood, when a shot alarmed 
 her. Could it be the bear ? Could it have been 
 BO near her ? And off she scrambled where he 
 but now bad climbed, and stood where he had 
 stood, shading her eyes with her hand from the 
 Bun, and sure enough, half hidden by some 
 brushwood, he was stooping over a large bear ! 
 Before she was aware of it she had sprung 
 down to him; he beamed a smile on her, and he 
 told her, speaking in a low, flexible voice, how 
 it had all come to pass, that they had lost the 
 Bcent, afterwards, though, found it here ; he 
 explained why the dog had been unable to 
 sceut the bear before he came close to his 
 track ; and amid this she had forgotten her tears 
 and bashfulness, and he had drawn his knife. 
 He wanted to skin the animal at once. The 
 flesh was not worth anything at this time of 
 year, he would bury it without delay ; but the 
 Bkin he wanted to take with him. And he re- 
 quested her to help him, and before she knew 
 what she was doing, she was holding while he 
 was flaying; afterward she ran down to the 
 saeter for an axe and a spade, and although 
 she was afraid of the bear, and although it 
 smelled vilely, she continued to help him until 
 he was through. By this time it was past noon
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 46 
 
 and he invited himself to dine with her. He 
 washed both himself and the hide, which was 
 no easy task, and when he got through he sat 
 down beside her in the sheeling ; for she, to her 
 shame, had not the dinner yet ready. He 
 chatted away about one thing and another, 
 easily and pleasantly, but in a very low tone, 
 such as people are apt to use who have been 
 much alone, Mildred gave the shortest answers 
 she could ; but when she sat right opposite him 
 at the table, she could neither speak nor eat, so 
 that they often sat in silence. When he had 
 finished, he turned on his stool, and filled and 
 lighted a short pipe. He, too, had become 
 rather more taciturn than he had been, and 
 presently he rose. 
 
 " I have a long walk home," said he, and as 
 he gave her his hand, he added in still lower 
 tones : " Do you sit every day where I found 
 you to-day ? " 
 
 He held her hand a moment as though await- 
 ing an answer. She dared not look up, much 
 less reply. Then she felt a hasty pressure of 
 her hand. " Thank you for the day ! " he said 
 softly, and before she 30uld gain command of 
 lierself, she saw him with the bear-skin over 
 his shoulders, gun in hand, dog at his side, 
 iralking over the heather. She saw him out-
 
 46 THE BRIDAL MAECH. 
 
 lined against the sky, as he reached the sum- 
 mit of the mountains ; his light, brisk step bore 
 him swiftly away ; she stepped outside of the 
 door and watched him until he had disappeared 
 from view. 
 
 Now for the first time she perceived that her 
 heart was throbbing so violently that she had 
 to press her hands over it. A little while later 
 she lay on the greensward with her face on her 
 arm, and most accurately passed in review the 
 occurrences of the day. She saw him emerge 
 from among the young trees above where she 
 sat ; she saw him, with his broad shoulders and 
 restless eyes, standing right in front of her ; she 
 felt the advantage he had over her, and her own 
 alarm, and her disgraceful tears ; she saw him 
 on the crest of the ridge against the sun ; she 
 heard the shot, she was on her knees in front of 
 him while he was skinning the bear ; she heard 
 over again every word he had uttered, and his 
 low voice, which had so friendly a sound that 
 it thrilled her through and through as she 
 thought of it ; she heard it again from the stool 
 in front of the hearth, while she was cooking, 
 and from the table while she was eating ; she 
 felt how she then no longer dared look him m 
 the eyes, and she felt that she finally had em- 
 barrassed him too, for he had grown silent
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 47 
 
 She heard him speak once again, as he took her 
 hand, and she felt his grasp, — it thrilled her 
 still from head to foot ! She saw him crossing 
 the heather, walking on and on ! Would he 
 ever come again ? After the way she had con- 
 ducted herself — impossible ! Ah, how strong, 
 beautiful, self-reliant was not all that she had 
 seen of him, and how stupid and miserable was 
 not all that he had seen of her ! Yes, misera- 
 ble, from her first scream at the dog to her 
 blush of shame and her tears ; from the clumsy- 
 assistance she gave him to the meal she was so 
 long in getting ready for him 1 And to think 
 she could not answer No, not even when he 
 looked at her ; and then, at last, when he 
 asked if she sat every day at the foot of the 
 ridge, that she did not say No, for she did not 
 sit there every day ! Did not her silence seem 
 as if she were begging him, mutely imploring 
 him to come and see ? The whole of her piti- 
 able helplessness — might it not be miscon- 
 strued in the same way ? Ah, how mortified 
 she was ! There tingled a burning sense of 
 shame through her whole body, especially in 
 her face, as she buried it deeper and deeper ; 
 and then she conjured up the whole scene 
 again, his magnificence and her wretchedness, 
 whereupon her mortification increased.
 
 i8 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 When the bells announced the approach of 
 the cattle she was still lying there, but now 
 made haste to get ready for them. Beret, who 
 came too, saw at once that there was somethinsr 
 amiss ; for IMildred addressed to her the most 
 absurd questions and answers, and acted so 
 stupidly that Beret several times stood still and 
 stared at her ! And when it was time for sup- 
 per, and Mildred said that she could not eat, 
 and instead of taking her seat at the table, sat 
 down outside of the door, nothing was lacking 
 to make Beret the exact picture of a hunting 
 dog on the scent, but to have her ears point 
 forward. Beret ate her supper and undressed 
 — she and her sister slept in the same bed — 
 and when Mildred did not join her she rose up 
 Boftly many times and looked to see if her sister 
 were still sitting at the door, and if she were 
 alone. Yes, she sat there, and always alone. 
 The clock struck eleven, then twelve, then one, 
 and Mildred still sat outside, and Beret did not 
 sleep. She pretended to be asleep, to be sure, 
 when Mildred finally came, and Mildred moved 
 very, very quietly ; but after she got into bed 
 Beret heard her sigh, she heard her say her 
 customary evening prayer, so mournfully, heard 
 her whisper : " Oh, help me in this, dear, deal 
 God I "
 
 THE BBIDAL MABCH. 49 
 
 "What does she want God to help her 
 about ? " thought Beret. She 30uld not sleep ; 
 she heard her sister, too, vainly trying to ar- 
 range herself for sleep, now on one, now on the 
 other side ; she saw her at last give up entirely, 
 push away the cover, and putting her hands 
 under her head lie there staring before her, 
 with wide open eyes. More she neither saw 
 nor heard, for now she fell asleep. When she 
 awoke the next morning, her sister was no 
 longer in bed. Beret sprang up ; the sun was 
 abeady high in the heavens, the cattle had 
 long been astir. She found her breakfast set 
 aside, made haste to eat, then went out and 
 found Mildred at work; but she was looking 
 very haggard. Beret told her that she would 
 at once find the cattle and go with them. The 
 other made no reply, but she gave Beret a look 
 that seemed to be intended to express her 
 thanks. Beret pondered a few moments and 
 then left. 
 
 Mildred looked around ; yes, she was entirely 
 alone. Then she made haste to get her milk 
 vessels in order, the rest might be attended to 
 as best it could. She washed herself, and 
 brushed her hair, and then hastened into the 
 Bheeling to change her clothes, took her knit- 
 ting and went toward the ridge. 
 4
 
 50 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 She had none of the new strength of tne new 
 day, for she had scarcely slept at all, and had 
 eaten almost nothing for twenty-four hours. She 
 walked as one in a dream, and it seemed as if 
 she could not grasp a single clear idea until 
 she reached the spot where she had been sitting 
 on the previous day. 
 
 But she had no sooner taken her seat there 
 than she thought : " If he should come and find 
 me here, he must of course believe ? " — In- 
 voluntarily she started up. Then she saw his 
 dog on the ridge ; it stood still a moment watch- 
 ing her, then came springing down toward her, 
 wagging its tail. Every drop of blood in her 
 body stood still. There ! There he stood, with 
 his gun, in the sun, just as the day before ; he 
 had come another way to-day ! He smiled at 
 her, hesitated a little, then climbed over the 
 edge of the ridge and soon stood in front of her. 
 She had given a little scream, and then had 
 sunk into her seat. It was utterly impossible 
 for her to rise again, her knitting fell from her 
 hands, she turned her face away. He did not 
 speak. But she heard him throw himself down 
 on the grass just in front of her, with his eyes 
 fixed on hers, and she saw the dog on the other 
 side with its eyes resting on him. She felt that 
 although she sat with her face averted, he could
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 51 
 
 see it, could see her blushes. His hurried 
 breathing quickened hers ; she thought she felt 
 his breath on her hand, but she dared not stir. 
 She did not wish him to speak, and yet his si- 
 lence was terrible. She could not help under- 
 standing why he sat there, and greater shame 
 than that which overpowered her had never be- 
 fore been felt. But it was not right in him to 
 come, and still worse was it for him to he sit- 
 ting here. Then one of her hands was seized, 
 and held tight, then the other ; she had to turn 
 a little at this, and with his kind, strong eyes 
 and hand he drew her gently to him. She 
 glided down on the grass at his side, so that her 
 head fell on his shoulder. She felt him strok- 
 ing her hair with one hand ; but she dared not 
 look up. Her whole conduct was supremely un- 
 becoming, and so she burst into a violent fit of 
 weeping. 
 
 " Aye, if you weep, I will laugh," said he ; 
 "for what has happened to us two is something 
 both to laugh and cry over ! " 
 
 But his voice quivered. And now he whis- 
 pered into her ear that yesterday when he left 
 her, he kept drawing continually nearer and 
 nearer to her. This had increased to such a 
 degree that when he reached his mountain hut 
 he could do nothing but let the German, his
 
 52 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 associate, shift for himself, while he pushed on 
 alone up the mountains. He had passed the 
 night partly sitting, partly walking about on 
 the heights ; in the morning he had gone home 
 to breakfast, but started off again forthwith. 
 He was twenty-eight years old, and no small 
 boy ; but this he knew, that either the girl 
 must be his or all would be lost. He wandered 
 to the place where he had met her the day be- 
 fore, he did not expect to find her, he only 
 thought he would sit down here by himself a 
 while. When he saw her, he was at first start- 
 led, but then he thought that her feelings must 
 be the same as his, and so he resolved at once 
 to put her to the test, and when he saw that 
 she really felt as he did, why then — yes, then 
 — and he raised her head and she no longer 
 wept, and his eyes glowed with such strange 
 brilliancy that she was forced to gaze into them, 
 and she blushed and bowed her head. But he 
 went on talking, in his low, pleasant voice. 
 
 The sun shone on the tops of the trees that 
 covered the slope, the birches quivered in a 
 gentle breeze, the chattering of the birds 
 blended with the babbling of a little brook that 
 flowed over a stony bottom close by. Neither 
 took note of the time that passed as they sat 
 there together, it was the dog that first roused
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 63 
 
 them. It had made several excursions around, 
 Btretching itself out in its place again after 
 each one ; but now it sprang barking down the 
 hill. Both started up, stood a while and list- 
 ened. But nothing could be seen. They looked 
 again at each other, and then he took her up 
 on his arm. She had never been carried since 
 she was a child, and there was something in 
 the act that made her utterly helpless. He 
 was her defense, her future, her everlasting 
 happiness, she must heed her instincts. Not a 
 word was spoken. He held her, she clung to 
 him. He bore her to the spot where she had 
 first been sitting ; there he seated himself and 
 cautiously put her down at his side. She bowed 
 her head lower than ever, that she might not 
 be seen by him now that she had been thus 
 dealt with. He was just about to turn to her 
 when a voice right in front of them, called out, 
 in tones of utter astonishment : " Mildred ! " 
 
 It was Inga, who had followed in the track 
 ef the dog. Mildred sprang up ; she gazed at 
 her friend for an instant, then ran to her, put 
 one arm about her neck and laid her head on 
 iier shoulder. 
 
 " Who IS he ? " whispered Inga, drawing her 
 arm around her, and Mildred felt how she trem- 
 bled.
 
 54 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 But Mildred did not stir. Inga knew very 
 well who he was, for she was acquainted with 
 him ; but she could not believe her own eyes ! 
 Then Hans drew nearer, 
 
 " I thought you knew me," said he calmly ; 
 " I am Hans Haugen." 
 
 At the sound of his voice, Mildred raised her 
 head. He held out his hand ; she walked up to 
 him and took it, and looked at Inga with shame 
 and joy blended in blushing confusion. 
 
 Hans took his gun and said farewell, whis- 
 pering to Mildred as he did so, — 
 
 " You may be sure I will come soon again 
 after this ! " 
 
 Both girls accompanied him down to the 
 dairy, and saw him walk away in the direction 
 he had taken the day before. They watched 
 him until he had disappeared from their sight. 
 Mildred stood, leaning on Inga, and the latter 
 felt that her friend could neither stir nor speak. 
 But when Hans was quite out of sigbt, Mil- 
 dred's head drooped on Inga's shoulder, and she 
 eaid, — 
 
 " Ask me no questions, for I cannot tell you 
 anything." 
 
 For a time she continued to nestle up against 
 Inga, and then they went to the sheeling 
 There Mildred remembered that she had lef^
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 66 
 
 everything in disorder behind her, and Inga 
 now helped her. During their work they did 
 not say much to each other ; at all events, not 
 about anything else than the work. 
 
 Mildred brought forward the noon-day repast, 
 but could eat very little herself, although she 
 felt the need of both food and sleep. Inga left 
 her as soon as she could ; she saw that Mildred 
 preferred to be alone. 
 
 When Inga was gone, Mildred laid herself 
 down on the bed and tried to sleep. Just once 
 more, though, she wanted to single out from 
 the day's occurrences something that he had 
 said and that seemed to her the most delight- 
 ful of all. In so doing she had occasion to ask 
 herself what reply she had made to this. And 
 then it became clear to her that she had not 
 said one word — indeed, through their entire in- 
 terview not a single word ! She rose up in bed. 
 He could not have gone many paces alone, be- 
 fore this must have occurred to him also ; and 
 what must he then have thought? That she 
 was like one walking about in her sleep, or like 
 a person utterly devoid of will. How could he 
 long continue to be attracted to her. Indeed, 
 it was not until he was away from her, in the 
 first place, that he discovered his love for her ; 
 ■he trembled to think what discoveries he might
 
 56 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 make tins day. Again, as on the preceding 
 day, she sat down outside of the door. Through 
 her whole life Mildred had been accustomed to 
 take care of herself; she had led such a shel- 
 tered life. Therefore, in her entire behavior 
 during the past twenty-four hours, she thought 
 she had shown neither discretion nor consider- 
 ation, scarcely even modesty. She knew noth- 
 ing of such things, either from books or from 
 real life; she saw with the vision of peasants, 
 and no one has stricter rules of propriety. It 
 is seemly, according to them, to suppress one's 
 emotions ; it is modest to be tardy in the ex- 
 pression of one's feelings. She, who beyond all 
 others, had adhered to these rules throughout 
 her whole life, and who, consequently, had en- 
 joyed the esteem of all about her, had in one 
 single day yielded herself entirely to a man she 
 had never before seen ! In the course of time 
 he would be the very one who would most de- 
 spise her ! When it was a thing that could not 
 be told, not even to Inga, what must it not be ! 
 When Beret appeared at the first sound of 
 the cattle bells in the distance, she found her 
 sister lying outside of the sheeling, looking like 
 one in whom there was no life. She stood by 
 her until Mildred was compelled to raise her 
 head and look at her. Mildred's eyes were red
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 67 
 
 with weeping, lier whole expression that of one 
 who is suffering. But her countenance changed 
 when she caught sight of Beret, for Beret's 
 face showed traces of agitation, 
 
 "What is the matter with you?" she ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 " Nothing ! " replied Beret, and remained 
 standing, with her eyes averted from Mildred, 
 so that the latter had to drop hers, turn and 
 rise to prepare for the evening meal. 
 
 They did not meet again until supper-time, 
 when they sat facing each other. As Mildred 
 was unable to eat more than a few spoonfuls 
 herself, her eyes now and then wandered ab- 
 sently from one to the other at the table, but 
 they rested chiefly on Beret, who seemed as if 
 she would never get through. She was not eat- 
 ing, she was devouring her food like a hungry 
 dog. 
 
 " Have you taken no food before, to-day ? " 
 asked Mildred. 
 
 " No," answered Beret, and continued eating. 
 
 Presently Mildred asked, — 
 
 " Have you not been with the herd-boys? " 
 
 " No," replied both she and the herd-boys. 
 
 In their presence Mildred would not ask any 
 more questions, and later her own morbid mind 
 made her quite unfit to take charge of her sis-
 
 68 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 ter, and, as it seemed to lier too, quite nn- 
 worthy. This thought was but an addition to 
 the growing reproaches, which were throbbing 
 one by one through her soul, as she sat all the 
 evening and into the night in her place outside 
 of the sheeling door. 
 
 In the crimson flush of the evening, in the 
 cold gray night, no peace, not the slightest in- 
 clination for sleep. The poor child had never 
 before been in trouble. Ah, how she prayed I 
 She would cease and begin again ; she used 
 prayers which she knew, and she poured out 
 her soul in words of her own, and finally, totally 
 exhausted, she sought her bed. There she 
 again collected her thoughts ; but lier strength 
 was all gone; she could only take up the burden 
 of her prayer : " Help me ! dear, dear God, oh, 
 help me ! " — and she kept repeating this, now 
 in low tones, now aloud ; for she was having a 
 struggle within herself as to whether she should 
 give him up or not. Suddenly she was so 
 frightened that she gave a shriek ; for quick aa 
 lightning Beret had darted up and was kneel- 
 ing by her. 
 
 " Who is he ? " she whispered, her large eyea 
 flashing fire, and her heated face and short 
 breath betokening great agitation of mind. 
 
 Mildred, overpowered by her self-torture, ex
 
 THE BBIDAL MAKOH. 6ft 
 
 hausted in soul and body, could make no reply ; 
 Bhe had become so alarmed that she felt like 
 Bobbing aloud. 
 
 " Who is he ? " repeated the other, in threat- 
 ening tones, bringing her face nearer to Mil- 
 dred's; "it is no use for you to hide it any 
 longer ; I was watching you two the whole 
 time to-day ! " 
 
 Mildred held up her arms, by way of defense, 
 but Beret seized them and drew them down. 
 
 " Who is he, I say ? " — this time she looked 
 Mildred straight in the eyes. 
 
 " Beret, Beret 1 " wailed the other ; ' have I 
 ever shown you anything but kindness since 
 you were a little child ? Why are you so un- 
 kind to me, now that I am in such distress ? " 
 
 Beret let go of her arm, for Mildred was 
 shedding tears. But Beret's breath was hot, 
 and her heart throbbed as if it would burst. 
 
 *' Is it Hans Haugen?" whispered she. 
 
 Breathless silence ensued. 
 
 " Yes," finally whispered Mildred, and burst 
 
 into tears. 
 
 Then Beret drew down her sister's arm once 
 more ; — she wanted to look into her eyes. 
 
 " Why did you not tell me this, Mildred ? *' 
 ihe asked, with the same burning zeal. 
 
 »' Beret, indeed I did not know it myself,"
 
 60 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 was the reply. " I never saw him in my life 
 until yesterday. And no sooner had I seen liim 
 than I gave myself to him; that is just what 
 torments me so that I feel as if I must die ! " 
 
 " Did you never see him before yesterday ? " 
 screamed Beret, in the greatest astonishment. 
 
 " Never in my life," replied Mildred, vehe- 
 mently. " Can you imagine so great a shame, 
 Beret?" 
 
 But at this Beret flung herself over her, threw 
 her arms about her neck, and kissed her over 
 and over again. 
 
 " Dear, sweet Mildred, how delightful it 
 is ! " she whispered, all sparkling with delight. 
 " Ah, how delightful it is ! " she repeated, and 
 kissed her. " And how I will keep the secret, 
 Mildred ! " — and she gave her sister a squeeze, 
 then started up again. " And to think you be- 
 lieved I could not keep it to myself ! " and she 
 fell into sudden distress. " / not keep a secret 
 when it concerned you, Mildred ! " she began to 
 cry. " Why have you forgotten rae of late ? 
 Why have you put Inga in my place ? Oh, 
 what sorrow you have caused me ! When you 
 knew how fond I was of you, Mildred ! " and 
 she hid her face in her sister's bosom. 
 
 But Mildred now drew her arm round her 
 (ind kissed her, and then assured her that 8h«
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 61 
 
 had not tliouglit of this until now, and that she 
 would never push her aside again, and that 
 henceforth she would place implicit confidence 
 in her, she was so good and true ; — and she 
 patted her, and Beret patted her in return. 
 Beret rose up again on her knee ; she wanted 
 to see her sister's eyes in the glow of the sum- 
 mer night, which was already beginning to be 
 tinged with the rosy flush of morning. 
 
 " Mildred, how handsome he is ! " was Beret's 
 first exultant shout. " How did he come ? 
 How did you first see him ? What did he say ? 
 How did it happen ? " 
 
 And what Mildred a few hours before be- 
 lieved she could never tell any one, she now 
 found herself freely recounting to her sister ; 
 she was interrupted now and then by having 
 Beret fling herself over her and give her a hug ; 
 but this only increased Mildred's delight in tell- 
 ing her story. They laughed and they wept ; 
 sleep had entirely escaped their minds. The 
 sun found them thus: the one lying down, or 
 resting on her elbow, transported by her own 
 story ; the other on her knees in front of her, 
 with half parted lips, glittering eyes, and now 
 and then flinging herself over her sister, in an 
 exuberance of delight. 
 
 They rose together, and did their work to
 
 62 THE BRroAL MABCH. 
 
 gether ; and when they were through with it, 
 and just for the sake of appearances had eaten 
 their breakfast, they both dressed for the inter- 
 view. He must surely come soon ! The girls 
 Bat down in their holiday attire at the foot of 
 the ridge, and Beret showed Mildred where she 
 had been lying the day before ; the dog had 
 often come there to her. One sister's story 
 followed swiftly upon that of the other; the 
 weather too was fine to-day, only a few clouds 
 were visible. They had soon chatted away the 
 time beyond the hour when Hans was expected ; 
 but they continued to talk, and forgot it only 
 to remember it again, and Beret sprang to her 
 feet several times, and ran up to the crest to 
 see if he were coming ; but she neither saw nor 
 heard anything of him. Both girls grew im- 
 patient, and Mildred suddenly became so to 
 such a degree that Beret was alarmed. She 
 represented to her sister that he was really not 
 his own master ; for two days the German had 
 been left to fish and shoot and prepare his 
 meals alone ; that would scarcely answer three 
 days in succession; and Mildred found that 
 there was some justice in this. 
 
 " What do you think father and mother wili 
 Bay to this ? " asked Beret, merely to divert 
 her sister's thoughts.
 
 THE BRroAL MARCH. 68 
 
 But the moment she had uttered the words, 
 Bhe regretted having done bo. Mildred grew 
 pale and stared at Beret, who stared at her 
 in return. Had Mildred never thought of this 
 before ? Yes, to be sure she had ; but as one 
 thinks of something far away. Fear at what 
 Hans Haugen might think of her, shame at her 
 own weakness and stupidity, had so completely 
 absorbed her that she had thrust all else aside. 
 Now the case was reversed ; her parents sud- 
 denly and wholly occupied her thoughts ! 
 
 Beret again strove to console her. When 
 they saw him they would justify Mildred in 
 what she had done ; nor would they make her 
 unhappy, who had been their joy ; grandmother 
 would help her too ; no one could have any 
 fault to find with Hans Haugen, and he would 
 never give up ! 
 
 All this rushed past Mildred, but she was 
 thinking of something else, and in order to gain 
 time to consider properly, she begged Beret to 
 get the dinner ready. Beret walked slowly 
 away, glancing over her shoulder several times. 
 
 Now what Mildred was pondering upon was : 
 " Shall I tell father and mother about this at 
 once ? " Excited as she was from the tremen- 
 dous strain of the day, the question grew to the 
 «ize of a mountain. It seemed to her that she
 
 64 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 would be committing a sin if she received him 
 now. She ought not to have engaged herself 
 without her parents' consent ; but she had been 
 powerless to do otherwise. Now that it was 
 done her only course was to seek her parents 
 without delay ! She rose to her feet, a light 
 dawned in her soul. What was right must be 
 done. When Htms appeared here again, she 
 must have spoken to her parents. " Is not that 
 so ? " she queried, yet not exactly as a ques- 
 tion ; and " Yes ! " she seemed to hear some 
 one reply, although no one had spoken. She 
 hastened to the dairy to tell Beret of this. 
 But Beret was neither in the sheeling, nor in 
 the dairy. 
 
 " Beret ! " she called. " Beret ! Beret ! " 
 The echo repeated the name from every side ; 
 but it gave her no Beret. Round about she 
 went searching for her sister without finding 
 her. She had been agitated before, she was 
 terrified now. Beret's wide-opened eyes, and 
 the question : " What do you think father and 
 mother will say to this ? " kept growing larger 
 and larger. 
 
 Could Beret have possibly gone to them her- 
 self ? It would be just like her ! Vehement as 
 the child was, she would want to have the ques- 
 tion decided, and Mildred consoled forthwith. 
 Most assuredly she had gone I
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 65 
 
 But if Beret should be the first to carry this 
 to her parents, they would misunderstand it ; 
 and Mildred struck briskly into the path lead- 
 ing to the parish ! Once on the way she walked 
 faster and faster, borne onward by ever-increas- 
 ing excitement. She was not aware of this, 
 only there was a buzzing in her head, a pres- 
 sure about the heart, — she panted for breath. 
 She was forced to sit down and rest awhile. 
 But she could get no rest sitting, she must lie 
 on the ground. She flung herself down on her 
 arm, and thus she fell asleep. 
 
 For two days and nights she had scarcely 
 slept or eaten, and what power this would 
 naturally have over the soul and body of a 
 child who had hitherto calmly and regularly 
 taken her meals and slept in her father's house, 
 she did not understand. 
 
 Now Beret had not gone to their parents but 
 had started off after Hans Haugen ! She had 
 a long distance to go, and part of the way lay 
 through an unknown region, along the edge of 
 a wood, and later she had to go farther up the 
 mountains, across plateaus that were not quite 
 secure from wild beasts, which had been show- 
 ing themselves about here of late. But she 
 went bravely onward, for Hans must come, or 
 6
 
 66 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 it would be hard for Mildred : she scarcely knew 
 her sister as she appeared now ! 
 
 She was light-hearted and gay, her sister's 
 ftdreuture went tripping along with her. Hans 
 Haugen was the most distinguished person she 
 knew in this world, and Mildred desei-ved the 
 most distinguished I It was no wonder that 
 Mildred gave herself at once to him, no more 
 than it was strange that he fell in love with 
 Mildred at first sight. If their parents could 
 not understand this they would have to do as 
 they pleased, and these two must brave resist- 
 ance as her great grandfather and her grani 
 father had done ; — and she began to sing the 
 bridal march of her family. It rang jubilantly 
 out over the desert wastes and died away in the 
 hazy atmosphere. 
 
 On the top of the mountain she paused and 
 sh-juted huiTah ! But a strip of the extreme 
 jtnd uppermost part of the parish was visible 
 from where she stood ; bordering on it she saw 
 the last edge of the wood, beyond it the heath, 
 and here where she was standing nothing but 
 stones and rocky plains in rigid undulations. 
 She sped swiftly onward in the buoyant air. 
 She knew that the mountain hut must be situ- 
 ated in a direct line with yonder snow-capped 
 mountain, whose peak towered above aU the
 
 TEE BBIDAL MARCH. 67 
 
 others, and pretty soon she was convinced that 
 she had not very far to go. In order to make 
 sure of her course she climbed upon a large 
 loose stone, and then saw a mountain lake just 
 below her. Whether it was a hut or a rock 
 that she now saw beside the lake, she could 
 not decide, for sometimes it seemed to resem- 
 ble a hut, sometimes a rock. But close by a 
 mountain lake his hut was said to stand. Yes, 
 indeed, it was unquestionably by this very one, 
 for there was a boat rounding yonder point I 
 Two men sat in it ; this must be he and the 
 German. Down she sprang and started for- 
 waxd. But what she had thought so near, 
 proved to be far away, and she ran and ran. 
 The anticipation of meeting Hans Haugen ex- 
 cited her. 
 
 Hans Haugen sat secure in his boat with the 
 German, unconscious of all the commotion he 
 had caused. Hans had never been frightened 
 himself. He was only happy, and he sat there 
 making some verses for the bridal march. 
 
 He was no great poet ; but he had put to- 
 gether something about their ride to church, 
 and their meeting in the woods served for the 
 refrain of each stanza. He was whistling and 
 fishing and enjoying himself extremely ; the Ger 
 •nan was busy fishing and left him in peace.
 
 68 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 They now beard shouting on the shore ; both 
 Hans and the bearded German raised their 
 eyes and saw a young girl beckoning to them. 
 They conferred together a moment, and then 
 rowed to shore. Here Hans sprang out and 
 moored the boat, and both men loaded them- 
 selves with the guns, coats, fish, and fishing 
 tackle ; but while the German went straight to 
 the hut, Hans, with his burden, walked up to 
 Beret, who was standing on a stone near by. 
 
 " Who are you ? " asked he. 
 
 " Beret, Mildred's sister," said she. 
 
 He flushed crimson, and she did the same. 
 But presently he grew pale. 
 
 " Is anything the matter ? " cried he. 
 
 " No, nothing, except that you must come. 
 She cannot bear to be alone now." 
 
 He stood still a moment gravely contemplat- 
 ing her. Then he turned and went toward the 
 hut. The German had paused outside to hang 
 up the fishiTig tackle ; Hans now did the same, 
 while the two exchanged some words. Inside 
 of the hut, ever since Beret shouted, two dogs 
 had been barking with all their might and 
 main. The men went in together ; but as they 
 opened the door the dogs rushed out, Hans's 
 and the German's, but were at once sternly re- 
 called. All became still, and it was a long
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 69 
 
 time before Hans came out again. But when 
 lie did appear, he wore other clothes than be- 
 fore, and he had his gun and his dog with him. 
 The German accompanied him out. And they 
 took each other by the hand, as though they 
 were saying farewell for a long time. Hans at 
 once approached Beret. 
 
 " Can you walk fast ? " asked he. 
 
 " Yes, to be sure I can." 
 
 And he walked and she ran ; the dog bounded 
 along in front of them. 
 
 As it had not occurred to him that Mildred 
 could feel less secure and happy over their be- 
 trothal than he himself had felt, this summons 
 came to him as a message from a new world of 
 thought. Of course, she was anxious about her 
 parents I She was alarmed, too, at the haste 
 in which everything had been brought to pass 
 
 — to be sure she was ! He understood this 
 BO well now that he was thoroughly astonished 
 at himself for not having understood it before 
 
 — and he walked on ! Why, even on him the 
 meeting with Mildred had made an overwhelm 
 mg impression ; what must not she, a child, 
 quiet and retired as the home of her parents, 
 experience at being cast out in a storm? And 
 he strode on ! 
 
 During this rapid march Beret had skipped
 
 70 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 along at his side, keeping her face, as far as 
 possible, turned toward his. She had now and 
 then caught a glimpse of his large eyes and 
 flushed cheeks ; but he was so completely en- 
 circled by his thoughts, that he had not seen 
 her distinctly, and at last he lost sight of her 
 altogether. He turned ; she was a considera- 
 ble distance behind him ; but she was strain- 
 ing every nerve to keep up. She had been too 
 proud to say that she could not endure such a 
 march. But when he paused and waited until 
 she came up, all out of breath, the tears started 
 to her eyes. 
 
 " Ah ! Am I walking too fast ? " and he 
 held out his hand as he spoke. 
 
 She was panting so that she could not an- 
 swer. 
 
 "Let us sit down a little while," said he, 
 and drew her toward him. " Come ! " and he 
 pulled her down into a seat at his side. 
 
 She grew rosier, if possible, than before ; and 
 she did not look at him. She was gasping as 
 if she were losing her breath. 
 
 "I am so thirsty," was the first tiling she 
 could say. 
 
 They rose again, and he looked round ; but 
 Ihere was no water near at hand. 
 
 " We must wait till we get on farther ; then
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 71 
 
 we will find a brook," said he ; " it would not 
 be good for you to drink just now, either," 
 
 He sat down again and she took her seat on 
 the stone in front of him. 
 
 " I ran all the way coming here," said she, 
 by way of apology. " And I did not eat any 
 dinner," she added presently ; nor did I sleep 
 any last night," she further volunteered. 
 
 Instead of expressing sympathy for her, he 
 asked, hurriedly, — 
 
 " Then, I suppose, Mildred, too, ate no dinner, 
 and, perhaps, did not sleep last night ? " 
 
 " Why, Mildred did not sleep any the night 
 before either, and she has not eaten, so far as I 
 have noticed, no, not for " — she considered 
 a while — " for ever so long." 
 
 He started up. 
 
 " Can you go on now ? " 
 
 " Yes, I think I can." 
 
 And he took her by the hand, and the hur- 
 ried tramp began anew. After a little while 
 he saw that she could not continue at this rate, 
 80 he took off his jacket, gave it to her, and 
 picking her up carried her. This she would 
 not permit on any account. But he bore her 
 lightly onward, and Beret held fast to hia 
 waistcoat-band ; him she dared not touch. Pres- 
 ently she told him that now she was rested and
 
 72 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 could ruu very well. He put her down, took 
 his jacket himself and hung it across his gun, 
 and pushed on. When the brook was reached, 
 they paused and rested a little before she drank. 
 When she rose, he looked at her and smiled. 
 
 " You are a nice little girl," said he. 
 
 Evening was drawing near when they reached 
 their journey's end. Mildred was sought in 
 vain both in the dairy and on the ridge ; their 
 shouts died away in the distance and both were 
 becoming alarmed, when Hans noticed that the 
 dog was sniffing at something. They ran for- 
 ward ; it was Mildred's kerchief. Hans im- 
 mediately gave a sign to the dog to seek the 
 owner of the kerchief, and off the animal 
 went! They followed over the mountain to- 
 ward the other side, that is, in the direction 
 toward the Tingvold region. Could she have 
 gone home ? 
 
 Beret told about her thoughtless question 
 and its results, and Hans replied that he could 
 well imagine that it would be so. Beret be- 
 gan to cry. Should they go after her or not ? 
 Beret chimed in : " Yes, yes ! " she was quite 
 distracted. Before starting they must go to 
 the neighboring saeter to ask some one to look 
 after the cattle. While they were still discuss- 
 ing this, all the time following the dog, thej
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 73 
 
 saw It pause and look back, wagging its tail. 
 They ran forward and there they found Mil- 
 dred ! 
 
 She was lying on her arm, with her face half 
 buried in the heather. They approached with 
 soft steps, the dog licked her hand and cheek ; 
 she wiped the spots it had touched and changed 
 her position, but olept on. 
 
 " Let her sleep ! " whispered Hans ; " and 
 you go and meet the cattle ; I hear the bells." 
 
 After Beret had started, he hastened after 
 her. 
 
 " Bring some food with you when you come 
 back," whispered he. 
 
 Now he seated himself at a short distance 
 from Mildred, drew the dog to him, forced it to 
 lie down, and sat there holding it, to prevent it 
 from barking if a bird or some stray animal 
 should stu' near them. 
 
 The evening was cloudy ; there was a gray 
 light over the ridges and plateaus ; all around 
 was hushed ; not so much as a little bird broke 
 the stillness of the air. He sat or rather re- 
 clined with his hand on the dog. What should 
 be agreed upon when Mildred awoke, he had 
 quickly settled in his own mind. The future 
 was without ;i cloud : he lay there gazing up at 
 the sky, undisturbed 1 >j a shadow of anxiety.
 
 74 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 He knew that their meeting was a miracle 
 God himself had told them they must walk 
 through life together ! 
 
 He busied himself once more with the bridal 
 march ; a suppressed joy reigned within his 
 soul, he imprisoned his thoughts therein. 
 
 It must have been after eight o'clock when 
 Beret came back, bringing food with her. Mil- 
 dred was not yet awake. Beret put down her 
 load, stood watching them a while, then seated 
 herself, but at some distance from the others. 
 They waited fully an hour more, during which 
 Beret often jumped up to keep herself from 
 falling asleep. Toward ten o'clock Mildred 
 awoke. She turned several times, opened her 
 eyes at last, saw where she was lying, sat up, 
 looked at the others. She was half intoxicated 
 with sleep, which kept her from clearly com- 
 prehending where she was and what she saw, 
 till Hans rose, and smiling, approached her. 
 Then she held out both hands towards him. 
 
 He sat down at her side. 
 
 " Now you have slept, Mildred." 
 
 " Yes, now I have slept." 
 
 " Now you are hungry." 
 
 " Yes, I am hungry." Here Beret drew near 
 with the food. 
 
 Mildred looked at it and at them. " Hav« 
 [ slept long ? " said she.
 
 THE BRIDAL MAECH. 7b 
 
 " Yes, you have. It must be nine o'clock. 
 Look at the sun ! " 
 
 Now for the first time she seemed to recall 
 all that had occurred. 
 
 " Have you been here long ? " 
 
 " Oh — no ; but eat now ! " 
 
 She began. 
 
 " You were on your way down to the val- 
 ley ? " inquired Hans, drawing his face nearer 
 to hers. 
 
 She blushed. 
 
 " Yes," whispered she. 
 
 " To-morrow, when you have had your sleep 
 quite out, we two will go down there together." 
 
 Her eyes were fastened on his ; first wide- 
 open and wondering, then smiling, filled with 
 gratitude ; but she said nothing. After this 
 she seemed to revive. She asked Beret where 
 she had been, and Beret told her she had gone 
 in search of Hans, — and he told the rest. Mil- 
 dred ate and listened, and it was evident that 
 the old enchantment was gradually stealing 
 over her again. She laughed merrily at hear- 
 ing that the dog had found her and licked her 
 face without waking her. The dog was sitting 
 by, greedily watching every morsel she ate ; 
 now she began to share her meal with it. 
 
 As soon as she had finished, they went slowly
 
 76 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 toward the saeter, and not long after Beret was 
 in bed. The two others sat down outside of 
 the door. There began to fall a drizzling rain, 
 but as the roof projected they did not heed it. 
 The fog closed about the dairy ; they sat as 
 within a magic circle. The atmosphere was, 
 consequently, more dark than light. Subdued 
 words fell from their lips, each one bringing 
 confidence. For the first time they could talk 
 together. lie tenderly begged her pardon for 
 not having remembered that she might be dif- 
 ferently constituted than he, and that she had 
 parents to consult. She acknowledged her 
 fright, and said that from the moment she had 
 met him she had ceased to be herself ; indeed, 
 she had even forgotten her parents. She no 
 doubt had more to say, yet she would not con- 
 tinue. But in their trembling joy, everything 
 spoke, even to the softest breath. The first 
 delicate outpouring of soul to soul, which with 
 others usually precedes and prepares the way 
 for the first embrace, with these two followed 
 it. The first true questions stole through the 
 twilight, the first true answers floated back. 
 Light as a breath, soft as down, the words fell 
 on the air, and in the same way were wafted 
 back. Thus it was that Mildred at last found 
 the courage, softly, hesitatingly, to ask if b«
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 77 
 
 had not considered her conduct very strange. 
 He assured her that it had not seemed so to 
 him, no, not once. Had he not noticed that she 
 had been silent throughout the entire inter- 
 view yesterday ? No, he had not observed it. 
 Had he not thought — For a long time she 
 failed to find words, but they came finally in a 
 low whisper, and with averted face, — that she 
 was very hasty in yielding to him ? No, he had 
 only thought how delightfully the whole thing 
 had come to pass. But what did he think of 
 her for crying, the first time he saw her? 
 Well, he had not comprehended it then, but 
 now he understood it very well, and he was 
 glad that she was just as she was. 
 
 All these answers made her so happy that 
 she longed to be alone. And as he had divined 
 this too, he rose softly and bade her go to bed. 
 She got up also. He nodded and went slowly 
 to the stable, where he was to sleep ; but she 
 hastened into the sheeling, xmdressed herself, 
 and not until she was in bed did she clasp her 
 hands and thank God. Oh, how she thanked 
 Him ! She thanked Him for Hans, for his 
 love, his forbearance, his charming nature ; she 
 could not find words for all she wanted to say ; 
 so she thanked God for all, all, everything, 
 even for the pain of these two days ; f (;r how
 
 78 THE BRroAL MARCH. 
 
 great had it not made her joy. She gave 
 thanks for the solitude of the mountain, and 
 prayed God to accompany her from these lofty 
 heights down to her parents, then turned her 
 thoughts again to Hans, and gave thanks for 
 him, fervent thanks. 
 
 When she came out in the morning — Beret 
 still slept — Hans was standing in the yard. 
 The dog had had a whipping : it had disturbed 
 a ptarmigan, and was now lying at its master's 
 feet trying to curry favor with him. When 
 Hans saw Mildred he released the dog ; the de- 
 lighted animal sprang up on hira and on her, it 
 barked a good-morning greeting, wagged its 
 tail, and was the living expression of their 
 bright, young happiness. Hans helped Mil- 
 dred and the boys with the morning work, and 
 when at last they sat down to breakfast, Beret 
 too had risen. Every time Hans glanced at 
 Beret she blushed, and when Mildred, after 
 they had left the table, took hold of his watch- 
 chain while she was talking with him. Beret 
 hastened from the room. She was hard to find 
 when they were ready to go. 
 
 "Listen, Mildred," said Hans, after they had 
 gone a short distance, coming nearer to her and 
 walking softly : " I have been thinking of some- 
 thing I did not find an opportunity to say to 
 you yesterday."
 
 THE BRIDAL MABGH. 79 
 
 His eoice sounded so solemn that she raised 
 her eyes to his face. He spoke slowly, and 
 without looking at her. 
 
 " I wanted to ask you — if it is the will of 
 God that we should be united — to come home 
 to my house after the wedding." 
 
 She grew red, and after a while answered 
 evasively, — 
 
 " What would father and mother say to 
 that?" 
 
 He walked on for some time before he re- 
 plied, — 
 
 " I did not suppose it would matter much to 
 them if we two were agreed." 
 
 It was the first time his words had wounded 
 her. She made no rejoinder. He seemed to 
 be waiting for her to speak, and finally added 
 more softly, — 
 
 "It is my wish that we two should be alone 
 — that we might become used to each other." 
 
 Now she began to understand him better; 
 but she could not yet find words. He walked 
 on as before, slowly and without looking at her ; 
 he, too, was silent now. She felt oppressed and 
 gave him a searching look. She saw that he 
 was very pale. 
 
 " But, Hans ! " she exclaimed, and paused, 
 without being herself aware of it.
 
 80 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 Hans also stood still, glanced hastily at her 
 and then at the gun he had rested on the 
 ground and was now twirling round. 
 
 "Are not you willing to come home with 
 me?" 
 
 His voice was smothered, but the gaze he 
 fixed on her became suddenly full and steady. 
 
 " Yes, of course I am 1 " she hastened to re- 
 ply. 
 
 Her eyes rested calmly in his, a flush mantled 
 
 his cheeks, he shifted his gun to the left hand, 
 extending the right to her. 
 
 " Thank you I " whispered he, and gave her 
 hand a warm pressure. 
 
 They walked on. 
 
 The sole thought she gathered from this, she 
 expatiated on in her own mind, and finally 
 could no longer keep it to herself. 
 
 " You do not know my parents." 
 
 He walked on some moments befori he re- 
 plied, — 
 
 " No ; but after you have come home with 
 me, I will have time to become acquainted with 
 them." 
 
 " They are so good," she added. 
 
 " So I have heard from every one." 
 
 He said this firmly but coldly. 
 
 Before she had time to think or speak again
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 81 
 
 he began to tell her about his home, about his 
 brothers and sisters, about the poverty they 
 had all worked their way up from, about how 
 capable, true, and cheerful his brothers and sis- 
 ters were, about the summer visitors and the 
 employment they furnished, about the build- 
 ings on the place, and especially the new house 
 he would now erect, and which should be for 
 themselves, and how she should have the su- 
 pervision of everything, but also plenty of 
 help ; indeed, every one would be perfectly de- 
 voted to her, and he not least of all ! While 
 he was talking they quickened their pace ; he 
 spoke with warmth, came closer to her, and 
 when he got through they were walking hand 
 in hand. 
 
 Yes, truly; his love for his home and his 
 people made an impression on her, and the 
 unknown attracted, but there was something, 
 nevertheless, something that seemed like a 
 wrong to her own tender-hearted parents. She 
 began therefore anew, — 
 
 " But, Hans ! Mother is growing old aj a 
 father is still older ; they have suffered much - — 
 they need help ; they have toiled hard, and " — 
 She either would not or could not say mort 
 
 He slackened his speed and looked smiling 
 
 At her. 
 
 f
 
 82 THE BRroAL MARCH. 
 
 " Mildred, you mean to say that the gard is 
 intended for you ? " 
 
 She flushed, but made no reply. 
 
 "Ah, well — suflScient unto the day is the 
 evil thereof ! But if they ever want to have 
 us take their places, it is they who must request 
 it of W8." 
 
 He said this tenderly ; but she knew very 
 well all that it signified I Cautious as she was, 
 and accustomed to consider the thoughts of 
 others before her own, she submitted. But it 
 was not long now before they got so far on 
 their way that they could see Tingvold lying 
 at their feet. And then her eyes wandered 
 from the gard up to him, as though it should 
 speak for itself ! The broad, bright hill-slopes, 
 encircled by the forest, the buildings, spread 
 out so peacefully in the subdued sunshine, but 
 so large and substantial, looked very beautiful. 
 The valley lay below, the noisy stream mean- 
 dered through it, gard after gard might be seen 
 down on the plain, and on the opposite side of 
 the valley and gard after gard on this side , 
 but none of them, not a single one, equal to 
 Tingvold, none so fruitful, none so imposing to 
 the eye, not one so sheltered in its own home- 
 like comfort, and yet so sparkling on every 
 side ! When she saw that he was affected by 
 the sight, she colored with pleasure.
 
 THE BBIDAL MABCH. 8ft 
 
 " Yes," answered he, for she had actually 
 asked a question I " Yes, it is true, Tingvold 
 is a fine gard ; it has scarcely its match." He 
 smiled and bowed over her. " But I care more 
 for you, Mildred, than for Tingvold ; may I 
 not hope that you, too, care more for me than 
 for Tingvold?" 
 
 Since this was the way he took it, there was 
 nothing left to her but silence. Moreover, he 
 looked so happy, and he sat down, and she 
 seated herself at his side. 
 
 " Now I will sing something for you," he 
 whispered. 
 
 She felt happy. 
 
 " I have never heard you sing," said she. 
 
 " No, you have not ; and although my singing 
 is talked about a good deal, you must not ex- 
 pect anything remarkable, for all that there is 
 about it is that I feel myself, now^ I must sing." 
 
 And after sitting and meditating a while, he 
 sang his bridal song to the tune of the family 
 march. He sang very softly, but such an ex- 
 ultant tone she had never heard in any voice ! 
 The gard lay before her, the gard from which 
 the procession would start ; she followed the 
 road with her eyes all the way to the bridge 
 across the stream, then followed the road on 
 the other side as far as the church, into the
 
 84 THE BBroAL MARCH. 
 
 birch forest up on a hill, and the cluster of 
 gards near at hand. The view was not a brill- 
 iant one, for the day was not clear ; but thus it 
 best suited the subdued vision of her dreams ; 
 for how many hundred times had she not taken 
 this churchward journey in her thoughts, only 
 she had not known with whom ! The words 
 and the tune enchanted her ; the peculiar, 
 warm, quiet voice stirred the depths of her nat- 
 ure ; her eyes were full, but she did not weep, 
 neither did she laugh ; but with her hand in 
 his she sat and looked, now at him, now at the 
 landscape before her ; and when while thus en- 
 gaged the smoke curled up from the chimney 
 at home at the first kindling of the fire that 
 was to boil the noonday pot, she turned and 
 pointed. Hans had just finished his song and 
 now he also sat quietly gazing at the prospect. 
 
 A little while later, they were once more 
 journeying onward through the birch forest, 
 and Hans had some difficulty in keeping his 
 dog still. Mildred's heart began to throb. 
 Hans agreed with her that he would wait near 
 by, and that she should go forward alone. He 
 carried her over a few swampy places, and he 
 felt that her hand was moist. 
 
 "Do not think about what you are going t<k 
 say," he whispered ; " just let the words come 
 AS tliey \vill of themselves."
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 85 
 
 She did not utter a word in reply, neither 
 did she look at him. They emerged from the 
 forest, which here consisted of tall, solemn firs, 
 among which they had been slowly walking 
 while he told her in a whisper about her great- 
 grandfather's wooing of his father's sister As- 
 laug, marvelous stories which she only half 
 heard, but which nevertheless gave her strength, 
 — they emerged from the forest into the dawn- 
 ing light of the meadows and grain fields, and 
 then even he became silent. Now she raised 
 her eyes to his face, and her fear was so ap- 
 parent and so great, that he became very anx- 
 ious. He could find no words to bring to her 
 aid, — the case was too fully his own. They 
 walked side by side ; some brushwood just op- 
 posite the house concealed them from the occu- 
 pants. When they got so far that he thought 
 she ought to go on alone, he whistled softly to 
 his dog, and Mildred understood this to be a 
 sign that they must part. She paused, look- 
 ing so unhappy and desolate that he had to 
 whisper, — 
 
 " I will pray for you here, Mildred ; and then 
 I will come when you need me." 
 
 Her eyea expressed her thanks, but not 
 wholly, for she could neither think nor see 
 clearly. And thus she went home. As soon as
 
 86 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 she had advanced beyond the bushes, she could 
 gee right into the large sitting-room in the main 
 building, indeed, clean through it, for the room 
 had windows on either side, overlooking both 
 the forest above and the parish below. Hans, 
 meanwhile, seated himself behind the nearest 
 clump of bushes, with the dog at his side, and 
 80 he could see everything in the sitting-room 
 as well as she ; but the room was now unoccu- 
 pied. She looked round once when she came 
 to the barn ; then he nodded to her. She turned 
 the corner of the barn, and entered the farm- 
 yard. 
 
 Here all was in the old accustomed order, 
 and stillness reigned. Some hens were walk- 
 ing about on the barn-bridge. Up toward the 
 store-house wall to the left the poles, used for 
 drying hay and grain, had been brought for- 
 ward since she went away ; — she saw no other 
 change. She longed to turn to the right to 
 her grandmother's house ; it was no doubt her 
 fright that made her desire this respite before 
 the interview with her parents ; but there by 
 the chopping-block between the two houses 
 stood her father shafting an axe. He wore a 
 knit jacket, with his suspenders outside. His 
 head was bare ; his long thin hair was blown 
 over his face by the breeze that was just begin
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 87 
 
 ning to sweep u from the valley. He looked 
 BO well, almost cheerful over his work, that the 
 sight of him inspired her with courage. He 
 did not notice her, so quietly and cautiously 
 had she come walking up over the chips. 
 
 " Good day !" she whispered. 
 
 He looked at her for a moment, in surprise. 
 
 " Dear me ! Is that you ? Is anything 
 amiss ? " he added hurriedly, and gazed search- 
 ingly into her face. 
 
 " No," said she, coloring slightly. 
 
 But his eyes remained fastened on hers, 
 which she did not dare raise. He put aside 
 his axe. 
 
 " Let us go in to mother," said he. 
 
 On the way to the house, he asked various 
 questions in regard to the work at the sseter, 
 and obtained satisfactory replies. " Now Hans 
 sees us go in," thought Mildred, as they ad- 
 vanced through the opening between the barn 
 and the store-house, on the other side. When 
 they entered the house, her father went to the 
 Kitchen door and opened it. 
 
 " You will have to come in, mother," said he, 
 through the door ; " Mildred is here." 
 
 " Dear me ! Is anything the matter ? " was 
 answered from the kitchen. 
 
 No," replied Mildred, from behind her fa- 
 
 ii
 
 88 THE BRroAL MARCH. 
 
 ther, coming forward to the door herself, and 
 tfcen going out to her mother, who sat In front 
 of the hearth, peeling potatoes and putting 
 them into the pot. 
 
 Mildred's mother now scrutinized her face a^ 
 closely as her father had done, and with the 
 same effect. Randi rose, and after setting 
 aside the dish she held, she went to the oppo- 
 side door, gave some orders outside, retraced 
 her steps, took off her kitchen apron, washed 
 her hands and came forward. They all repaired 
 to the sitting-room. 
 
 Mildred knew her parents well, so she was 
 sure that these preparations betokened that 
 they themselves expected something more than 
 common. Her courage had not been great be- 
 fore, and now it grew less. Her father sat 
 down in the high seat, close by the farthest 
 window, which faced the parish. Her mother 
 had seated herself on the same bench, but 
 nearer to the kitchen door. Mildred took her 
 place on the first seat, that is to say, on the long 
 bench in front of the table. Hans could see 
 her there ; he could also look right into her fa- 
 ther's face, but he did not have so good a vie\i 
 of her mother. 
 
 Her mother asked, as the father had done 
 before, about the steter, obtained the same in
 
 THE BRIDAL MABOH. 89 
 
 formation ana a little more, for she inqnired 
 more into particulars. Although it was evi- 
 dent that both parties were spinning out the 
 conversation, the theme was soon exhausted. 
 In the silence that ensued both parents looked 
 at Mildred. She avoided their eyes, and in- 
 quired about the news of the parish. Although 
 this theme was di'agged out to the utmost, ity 
 also, came to an end. Then the same silence, 
 the same expectant look in the eyes of the par- 
 ents. Mildred had no more questions to ask, 
 but began stroking with the palm of her hand 
 the bench on which she was sitting. 
 
 "Have you been to your grandmother's?" 
 inquired the mother ; she was beginning to be 
 alarmed. 
 
 No, Mildred had not. This was an acknowl- 
 edgment that she had come here on a definite 
 errand, and she felt that it could be delayed no 
 longer with propriety. 
 
 " There is something that it is my duty to 
 tell you," the young girl faltered at last, her 
 color coming and going and her eyes cast down. 
 Her parents exchanged troubled glances. Mil- 
 dred raised her head^ and fixed on them a pair 
 of wide-open, beseeching eyes. 
 
 " What is it, my child ? " her mother anx- 
 iously asked, as she met hei gaze.
 
 90 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 " I am betrothed," said Mildred, bowing her 
 head and bursting into tears. 
 
 A more stunning blow could not have fallen 
 on the little circle I Pale, silent, the parents 
 looked at each other. Their steady, gentle Mil- 
 dred, for whose prudence and obedience they 
 had so often thanked God, had, without their 
 advice, without their knowledge, taken life's 
 most important step, one which also determined 
 the parents' past and future. Mildred, mean 
 while, felt every thought that was working in 
 their minds, and fear checked her tears. Gen- 
 tly, slowly, her father asked, — 
 
 " To whom, my child? " 
 
 After a pause the answer came in a whia- 
 uer, — 
 
 " It is to Hans Haugen." 
 
 The name Haugen had not been mentioned 
 in this house for more than twenty years, nor 
 any circumstance connected therewith. From 
 the stand-point the parents took, only harm 
 had como from Haugen to this gard. Mildred 
 again divined their thoughts; she sat motion- 
 less, awaiting her doom. But mildly and slowly 
 once more the father said, — 
 
 " We do not know this man ; neither youi 
 mother nor I. Nor were we aware that yoi 
 knew him."
 
 THE BRIDAL JIARCH. 91 
 
 "No, neither did I know him," said Mil- 
 dred. 
 
 The astonished parents looked at each other. 
 
 " How did this happen, then ? " 
 
 It was the mother who spoke. 
 
 " Oh, I do not know myself," said Mildred. 
 
 " Why, dear child, we ought to be able to 
 control our actions." 
 
 Mildred made no reply. 
 
 "We thought," added the father, meekly, 
 " that we could trust you^ 
 
 Mildred still made no reply. 
 
 "But how did it happen?" repeated the 
 mother, more zealously. " You must surely 
 know." 
 
 " No, I do not know. I only know that I 
 could not help it ; no, indeed, I could not. She 
 sat clinging with both hands to the bench as 
 she spoke. 
 
 " God have mercy on you, then ! What can 
 have come over you ? " 
 
 Mildred made no reply. Once more the 
 father had a subduing influence on the conver- 
 sation. In a calm, friendly tone, he asked, — 
 
 " Why did you not speak to one of us, my 
 child ? " 
 
 The mother, loo, fell into this vein, and said 
 quietly, —
 
 &2 THE BRffiAL MABCH. 
 
 " You know how fond we are of our children, 
 we, who have lived so lonely a life ; and we 
 may well say, of you, in especial, Mildred, for 
 you have been dearer than all else to us." 
 
 Mildred scarcely knew where she was sit- 
 ting. 
 
 " No, we did not think that you would for- 
 sake us thus." 
 
 It was the father who spoke. Hushed though 
 his voice was, it pained none the less. 
 
 " I will not forsake you," she faltered. 
 
 " You must not say so," he answered, more 
 gravely than he had yet spoken," for you have 
 already left us." 
 
 Mildred felt that this was true, and yet it 
 was not true ; but she could not explain this. 
 Her mother said, — 
 
 " Of what avail is it to us that we have led a 
 loving, pious life with our children ? At the 
 first temptation " — For her daughter's sake 
 she refrained from saying more. 
 
 But Mildred could not stand this any longer. 
 
 " I will not forsake you," she cried. " I do 
 not want to grieve you. I only could not — no 
 I could not I " and flinging herself down on the 
 table with her face toward her father, and hei 
 head on her arm, she sobbed aloud. 
 
 Neither of her parents had the heart to in
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 93 
 
 crease with a single reproach the sorrow she 
 evidently felt. Consequently a hush fell upon 
 the room. It might have lasted a long time; 
 but Hans Haugen noticed from his hiding-place 
 that Mildred needed help. His huntsman's eye 
 had seen her cast herself down on the table, 
 and he sprang to his feet ; soon his light step 
 was heard in the passage. He knocked ; every 
 eye was fixed on the door ; but no one said : 
 " Come in ! " Mildred half rose, her face red 
 with weeping; the door opened, Hans, with his 
 gun and dog, stood on the threshold, pale but 
 calm, turned and closed the door, while the dog 
 walked, wagging its tail, to Mildred. Hans' 
 thoughts had been too much occupied to ob- 
 serve that the dog followed him. 
 
 " Good-day ! " said he. Mildred sank back 
 in her' seat, drew a long breath, and looked at 
 him, relieved ; her fright, her bad conscience, 
 was all gone, she was right, yes, indeed, she 
 was right, — now God's will be done ! 
 
 No one had responded to his greeting ; nor 
 had any one asked him to come forward. 
 
 " I am Hans Haugen," said he, calmly ; and 
 he rested his gun on the floor, and stood holding 
 it. After the parents had exchanged glances a 
 few times, he continued, but with an effort: "I 
 came here vdth Mildred; for if she has done 
 wrong, the fault is mine."
 
 94 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 Something must be said ; the mother looked 
 at the father, and he said, finally, that this had 
 come about without their knowledge, nor could 
 Mildred give any explanation of how it had 
 happened. But Hans replied that he could 
 give none either. 
 
 " I am no boy," said he, " for I am twenty- 
 eight years old, and yet this came about in such 
 a way that I, who never thought of any one be- 
 fore, could not think of anything else in the 
 world from the moment I saw her. Had she 
 said no — ah, I do not know — but I certainly 
 never would have amounted to very much after- 
 ward." 
 
 The calm, truthful way in which he said this, 
 was good to hear ; Mildred trembled in her 
 seat, for she knew that his words presented a 
 new view of the case. He had his cap on, for 
 it was not customary in this valley for a 
 Btranger to take off his cap on entering a house ; 
 but now he involuntarily removed it, hung it 
 on the barrel of his gun and held his hands 
 over it. There was something in the young 
 man's whole manner that demanded courtesy. 
 
 "Young as Mildred is," said the mother, 
 "none of us thought that she would so soon be- 
 gin to enter into anything of this sort." 
 
 " That may be true ; but then you know I
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 95 
 
 Am mucli older," replied he, " and the manage- 
 ment of affairs at my house is not very exten- 
 sive; it will not require great effort, and I have 
 plenty of help." 
 
 The parents looked at each other, at Mildred, 
 at him. 
 
 " Would she have to go home with you ? " 
 asked the father incredulously, almost scorn- 
 fully. 
 
 " Yes," said Hans ; " it is not the gard I am 
 courting." 
 
 He flushed ; Mildred did the same. 
 
 If the gard had sunk into the earth, it could 
 not have astonished the parents more than to 
 have it disdained, and Mildred's silence showed 
 them that she agreed with Hans. At all events, 
 this decision of the young people was some- 
 thing wholly beyond the calculations of the 
 parents ; they felt themselves humiliated. 
 
 " It was you who said you would not forsake 
 as," remarked the mother in quiet reproach, 
 and her words struck home. 
 
 But Hans came to Mildred's aid. 
 
 " Forsake you ? Why, every child who mar- 
 ries must leave its parents." He smiled, and 
 added, in a kindly tone, " The distance is not 
 great ; it is but little over five miles from here 
 to Haugen."
 
 96 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 Words, however, are of but little avail on 
 such occasions ; thoughts will take their course 
 in spite of them. Mildred's parents felt for- 
 saken, aye, betrayed, by the determination of 
 the young people. That it was possible to live 
 comfortably at Haugen they knew very well ; 
 travelers who visited the place had given it a 
 name ; there had even now and then been some- 
 thing about it in the papers ; but still Haugen 
 was Haugen, and that Mildred^ their favorite 
 child, should take the family's journey back to 
 Haugen, it was too much ! Under such cir- 
 cumstances others would perhaps have been 
 angry, but these two preferred to avoid what 
 they did not like. They exchanged significant 
 looks, and the father said, mildly, — 
 
 " This is too much at once, we are unable to 
 answer yet." 
 
 " No," joined in the mother ; "we had not 
 expected such important news ; nor to receive 
 it in this way." 
 
 Hans hesitated a little before he said, — 
 
 " It is true that Mildred sliould have asked 
 her parents first. But how, if neither of us 
 knew of it before it was too late? That is 
 really the way it was. So we could not do any 
 thing else than come, both of us, as soon as we 
 were engaged, and that we have done. You 
 must not be too severe."
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 97 
 
 After this there was nothing to be said on 
 the score of their conduct, and his calm way of 
 Bpeaking gave force to his words. On the 
 whole, the father noticed that he was not an 
 equal match to Hans, and so small was the con- 
 fidence he had in himself he felt anxious to 
 drop the question, 
 
 " We do not know you," said he, and looked 
 at his wife ; " we must have time to consider." 
 
 "Yes, that is certainly best," observed Randi, 
 " for we ought to know the person to whom we 
 give our daughter." 
 
 Mildred felt the indignity of this remark, but 
 she looked imploi-ingly at Hans. 
 
 "That is true," replied Hans, and began 
 with one hand to twirl his gun, " although I do 
 not think there are many in the parish who are 
 very much better known than I. But perhaps 
 some one has been speaking ill of me ? " 
 
 He looked up at them. Mildred felt embar- 
 rassed for her parents, and they felt that they 
 had possibly awakened suspicion, and this they 
 did not wish. 
 
 " No, we have heard nothing against you," 
 both exclaimed in a breath, and the mother 
 hastened to add, that the fact was they did not 
 know him because they had so seldom heard 
 anything about the Haugen family.
 
 98 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 She meant no harm in the least by this; but 
 no sooner had the words crossed her lips than 
 she realized that they were not happily ex- 
 pressed, and she noticed that both her husband 
 and Mildred thought the same. There was 
 some delay before the answer came. 
 
 " If the house of Tingvold has failed to in- 
 quire after the Haugen family, the fault is not 
 ours ; for we have been poor people until 
 lately." 
 
 There was a reproach in these words that all 
 three felt to be true, and that profoundly so. 
 But never until now had it occurred to the hus- 
 band and wife, reserved and absorbed in their 
 sorrow as they had been, that they had neg- 
 lected a duty ; never until now had they con- 
 sidered that their poor relatives at Haugen 
 should not have been made to suffer for misfort- 
 unes for which they were in nowise to blame. 
 They stole shy glances at each other, and kept 
 their seats, covered with shame. Hans had 
 spoken cautiously, although the mother's an 
 Bwer could not but have annoyed him. Both 
 parents felt then that they had a noble mar 
 before them, and that in a double sense they 
 had something to make amends for. And so 
 the father said, — 
 
 " Let us take a littl» more time. Cannof
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 99 
 
 you stay to dinner with us ? Then we can have 
 a chance to talk a little." 
 
 " You must come and sit down," added the 
 mother. 
 
 Both rose. 
 
 Hans put aside his gun, with his cap on it, 
 and crossed the floor to where Mildred sat ; she 
 at once rose, she knew not herself why. The 
 mother said there was a good deal to be seen to 
 in the kitchen, and left the room. The father 
 acted as if he were about to follow her exam- 
 ple ; but Mildred, not wishing to be alone with 
 Hans as long as her parents refused their con- 
 sent, quickly moved to the other door. They 
 saw her walking across the farm-yard toward 
 her grandmother's dwelling. Then the father 
 could not leave Hans alone, so he turned and 
 sat down. 
 
 The two men talked together about indif- 
 ferent matters ; first of all about the hunt- 
 ing, and about their affairs on the mountain in 
 the summer huts ; about the income from such 
 sources, and much more to like effect. After- 
 wards they came to Haugen and the tourists 
 that found their way there, to the cultivation 
 of the soil in these upland regions ; and all 
 that the father heard gave him the impression 
 that everything was going on well and pros-
 
 100 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 perously at Haugen. The mother, coming and 
 going with her preparations for dinner, often 
 had occasion to listen, and it was very evident 
 that the shyness of the old people was gradu- 
 ally becoming transformed into confidence ; for 
 the questions began to grow more to the point. 
 
 They all noticed Hans's good manners at 
 table. He sat at the wall, just opposite Mil- 
 dred and her mother ; while the father sat at 
 the end of the table in the high seat. The 
 farm people had had their dinner earlier, and 
 in the kitchen where the family themselves 
 usually ate with them. But the fact probably 
 was that on this occasion they did not care to 
 have Hans seen. At table Mildred felt that 
 her mother looked at her whenever Hans 
 smiled. He was one of those grave-looking 
 people whose faces light up pleasantly when 
 they smile. Several such things she put to- 
 gether to form the result her heart was set on 
 having. But she felt so uncertain about mat-- 
 ters that the atmosphere of suspense in the 
 room was so oppresive to her, that she for her 
 part longed to get away, and after dinner she 
 went again to her grandmother's. 
 
 The men took a turn round the gard, but so 
 directing their steps that they did not come 
 either where the farm laborers were, or where
 
 THE BBIDAL MARCH. 101 
 
 the grandmother could see them. Later they 
 Bat down in the sittmg-room agam, and by this 
 time the mother was through with her work 
 and could join them. The conversation became 
 by degrees more confidential, as might have 
 been expected, and as time wore on (yet, to be 
 sure, not before evening) the mother ventured 
 to beg Hans to tell how it had all come about 
 between him and Mildred, as Mildred had her- 
 self been unable to give any information. Per- 
 haps it was chiefly feminine curiosity that led 
 the mother to ask this, but to Hans the ques^ 
 tion was exceedingly welcome. 
 
 He gave no account of the first interview, 
 for he could not do so ; but in full details and 
 with profound joy he narrated the events of 
 the previous day, telling of Beret's stormy 
 march in search of him, because Mildred was 
 distracted with anguish of mind on her parents' 
 account ; and when he came to Mildred herself 
 and depicted her flight toward home, and how, 
 exhausted in soul and body, she had been com- 
 pelled to rest, and had fallen asleep, desolate 
 and unhappy, — then it seemed to the old peo- 
 ple that they recognized their child once more. 
 They could not avoid feeling, especially the 
 toother, that they had been too severe. 
 
 But while the young man talked aboat MU
 
 102 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 dred, he waa telling, without being aware of 
 it, about himself ; for his love for Mildred 
 glowed from every word and made the par- 
 ents glad. He grew conscious of this at last 
 and became happy himself ; and these two, who 
 were unaccustomed to such unbroken heartiness 
 and strength, felt genuine happiness. This 
 kept continually increasing, until the mother 
 involuntarily exclaimed, smiling, — 
 
 " Why, I really believe you got as far as 
 the wedding, you two, before either of us were 
 consulted." 
 
 The father chimed in with a laugh in order 
 to help the question, and Hans replied, as 
 seemed appropriate to the occasion, by softly 
 humming a single line of the bridal march, — 
 
 " Speed us on, speed us on, we 're in haste, you and I," — 
 
 md laughed, but was discreet enough to turn 
 the conversation at once to something else. By 
 a mere chance he looked up at Randi and saw 
 that she was very pale. In a moment he felt 
 that he had done something wrong in remind- 
 ing her of this tune, and that just now. End- 
 rid looked anxiously at his wife, whose agita- 
 tion kept increasing until it had risen to such 
 a pitch that she could no longer remain in th« 
 room ; she rose and weut out.
 
 THE BBroAL MARCH. 108 
 
 " I am afraid I have done wiong," said Hans, 
 in alarm. 
 
 Endrid made no reply. Thoroughly dis- 
 tressed, Hans rose to follow Mildred's mother 
 and offer her an apology, but sat down again, 
 protesting that he had not meant the least 
 harm. 
 
 " Oh, you could not be expected to know," 
 answered Endrid. 
 
 " Cannot you go after her and make all right 
 again ? " 
 
 He had acquired such confidence in this 
 man that he felt at perfect liberty to ask thia 
 of him. But Endrid replied, — 
 
 " No ; let her alone ; I know her." 
 
 Hans, who had a little while before felt al- 
 most at the goal of his wishes, was now plunged 
 in disappointment, and could not be coaxed 
 into good spirits again, although the. father ex- 
 ercised the utmost patience in trying to cheer 
 him. The dog lent his aid, by coming forward 
 and joining them, for Endrid had asked repeat- 
 edly about it and afterwards given a detailed 
 account of a dog he had once owned, and whose 
 ways he had closely observed, as solitary peo- 
 ple are wont to do. 
 
 Now Randi had gone outside of the door, and 
 seated herself on the flag-stone. Her daugh-
 
 104 THE BRroAL MARCH. 
 
 ter*s betrothed had caused the bridal march 
 to jar more than ever the memories she bore 
 within her. She had not, like her daughter, 
 given herself to a man whom she loved ! The 
 shame of her ride to church had been just, for 
 she had not been sitting in perfect truth at her 
 bridegroom's side. The mortification and grief, 
 the loss of her children, the long years of suf- 
 fering and conflict, all rushed over her. All 
 she had read and prayed over this pain had 
 then been of no avail, for the most violent agi- 
 tation now overpowered her ! That this could 
 happen to her, cast her despairingly down into 
 the depths of self-accusation ; she felt the scorn 
 of the people over her false churchward ride ; 
 she again scourged her own impotence, that 
 she could not stop her tears that time, her 
 memories now ; that through her lack of self- 
 control she had put her parents in a false light, 
 destroyed her own health, and thereby mur- 
 dered the children she bore, — all the time feign- 
 ing a piety she did not feel, for she was sure 
 of this now. Oh, to think she had progressed 
 no farther than this ! So wretched, so pitiably 
 wretched she felt, that she did not dare look up 
 to God ; for how had she not disappointed her- 
 Belf and Him ! But wherefore, she was forced 
 to avsk, wheretore call to light just now aL
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 105 
 
 the hatefulness that had coiled itself about her 
 inner being ? Was she envious of Mildred ? 
 Envious of her own daughter ? No, she was 
 not, she knew she was not, and she began to 
 hold up her head once more ! Now her sin 
 should be atoned for by her daughter. What 
 a glorious thought ! Could our children atone 
 for our sins ? Yes, as truly as they are a work 
 of our own, they could, for the truth that was 
 in Mildred, the mother, frail as she was, had 
 fostered. But in order to profit thereby she 
 must enter into it herself in repentance, in 
 gratitude ! And before Randi knew how it 
 was herself, she could pray again, could bend 
 in profound humility and contrition before the 
 Lord, who had once more revealed to her what 
 she was without Him. She prayed for mercy, 
 as those pray who are petitioning for their 
 lives, for now she would have life again ; this 
 she felt ! Now her debt was cancelled ; this 
 had been the final settlement, she was merely 
 overwhelmed by it ! And she rose and looked 
 up, while the tears streamed down her cheeks : 
 she felt at ease ; there was One who had lifted 
 ber burden from her ! But had she not often 
 felt thus before ? No, never as she did now , 
 her first victory had just been won I And she 
 advanced farther and she felt tnis : she belonge<?
 
 106 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 to herself I Something was rent asunder that 
 until now had held her in bondage ; through 
 every motion she made she felt that now she 
 was free, soul and body ! If, next to God, she 
 must thank her daughter for this, why, then, 
 to Mildred must be granted the full enjoyment 
 of her happiness I She came to the porch of 
 grandmother's house ; but none of those within 
 iecognized her step. She took hold of the 
 latch and opened the door, as though she were 
 another person. 
 
 " Mildred, come here I " said she, and Mil- 
 dred and the grandmother looked at each other, 
 for this surely was not Mildred's mother. 
 
 Mildred sprang forward. What could be the 
 matter ? Her mother drew her forward by the 
 arm, closed the door behind her so that they 
 were alone, and then flung herself on her 
 daughter's neck and wept and wept, while she 
 embraced her with vigor and an intensity of 
 bliss, which Mildi-ed, exalted by her love, could 
 return with all her heart. 
 
 " God forever bless and reward you ! " whis- 
 pered her mother. 
 
 The two in the family sitting-room saw them 
 coming walking across the yard, hand in hand, 
 and they saw, moreover, that their coming waa 
 prophetic. The door was opened, tbey both
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 107 
 
 entered and came forward. But instead of giv- 
 ing Mildred to Hans, or saying anything to the 
 father or to him, Randi merely clasped her 
 daughter in her arms again, and in a fresh 
 burst of emotion, once more cried, — 
 " God forever bless and reward you ! " 
 A little while later all four sat in the grand- 
 mother's room. The old lady was very happy ; 
 she had for a long time past been kept posted 
 by the young people in regard to Hans Hau- 
 gen, and she comprehended at once that this 
 alliance would serve as an atonement in the 
 lives of her son and daughter-in-law. More- 
 over, the light-hearted old lady thought Hans 
 was extremely handsome ! They all remained 
 with her, and the day ended by the father, after 
 singing a psalm, reading from a prayer-book a 
 passage beginning : " The Lord has been in our 
 house." 
 
 Of the remainder of their lives I shall only 
 single out two days, and of these but a few 
 moments in each. 
 
 The first is the wedding-day of the yoiu«g 
 people. Inga, Mildred's cousin, who was no-w 
 herself a wife, had come to attend to the adorn- 
 ment of the bride. This was done in the store- 
 house ; the old chest, in which the bridal silver
 
 108 THE BRroAL MARCH. 
 
 was kept, — the crown, the belt, the buckle, the 
 brooches, the rings, — was brought forward. 
 Grandmother had the key to it, she was there 
 herself to open it, and Beret was with her, as 
 her assistant. Mildred had already decked her- 
 self in her bridal dress, and all the finery that 
 belonged to her, when this splendor (which 
 Beret and the grandmother had polished the 
 week before) was brought to light, glittering 
 and heavy. Article after article was tried on. 
 Beret held the glass for the bride. The old 
 lady told how so many of her family had worn 
 this silver on their wedding-day, and how the 
 happiest of all had been her own mother, As- 
 laug Haugen. 
 
 Just then the old family bridal march was 
 heard outside ; every one in the store-house 
 paused, listened, then hastened to the door to 
 see what was going on. The first person their 
 eyes fell on was Endrid, the bride's father. He 
 had seen Hans Haugen, and his brothers and 
 sisters, come riding toward the gard ; it was 
 a rare thing for Endrid to have any unusual 
 ideas ; but this time it occurred to him that 
 these guests should be received with the ances- 
 tral tune. He gave the fiddlers orders to go 
 forward playing it ; and there he now stood him- 
 <ielf in their midst near the store-house, hold
 
 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 109 
 
 ing in his hand a silver tankard filled with the 
 wedding ale. Several others had joined him. 
 Hans and his faithful brothers and sisters drove 
 into the gard and it was very evident that this 
 reception touched them. 
 
 An hour later, as a matter of course, the 
 bridal march was struck up again ; that was 
 when the bride and bridegroom, and the bride's 
 parents, and grandmother and Beret, and the 
 bridegroom's brothers and sisters came out in 
 couples, with the fiddlers at their head, to get 
 into the carts. There are moments in our lives 
 when all signs are favorable, and at such a 
 moment the bridal party drove forth from 
 Tingvold one bright spring day. At church 
 there was assembled so great a multitude of 
 people that no one remembered ever having 
 seen anything to equal it. Every one in the 
 crowd knew the family history, and how it was 
 interwoven with this bridal march which now 
 rang out jubilantly through the glad sunshine, 
 its tones encircling the bride and bridegroom, 
 and the happy bridal party. 
 
 And because all their thoughts centred in 
 this one, the priest, too, chose a text for the 
 wedding discourse that afforded him an oppor- 
 tunity of dwelling on the idea that children are 
 the crowning glory of our lives when they are
 
 110 THE BRIDAL MARCH. 
 
 a reflection of our honor, our development, our 
 labor. 
 
 On the way out of the church Hans paused in 
 front of the church door ; he said something ; 
 the bride, in her supreme happiness, did not 
 hear what it was, but she divined its meaning. 
 He wanted her to look at Ole Haugen's grave, 
 which was riclily decked with flowers. She did 
 BO, and they passed out of the churchyard in 
 such a way that their garments touched the 
 head-board of his grave. The parents fol- 
 lowed. 
 
 The other moment of their lives which must 
 here be unveiled, relates to the first visit of 
 Endrid and Randi as grandparents. Hans had 
 had his way, and the newly-married couple were 
 establislied at Haugen, although he had been 
 obliged to promise that he would take Tingvold 
 when the old people either could not or did not 
 wish to manage it longer, and when the ancient 
 grandmother was dead. During this whole 
 visit, however, there is but one occurrence that 
 conceins the readers of this story ; this is, that 
 when Randi, after having been affectionately 
 received and after partaking of the refresh- 
 ments that were brought forward, sat with her 
 daughter's little child in her lap, she began to 
 rock it in hei' arms and hum something over it
 
 THE BKIDAL MABCH. Ill 
 
 and that was the bridal march. Her daughter 
 clasped her hands in surprise, but controlled 
 herself immediately, and said nothing. Hans 
 invited Endrid to let him fill his glass again, 
 which Endrid declined, but this was only an 
 excuse on both sides to exchange glances.
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA.
 
 INTRODUCTION TO CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 The following story appeared some years ago in a 
 Danish Christmas Gift, " Fra Fjaeld og Dal " (From 
 Mountain and Valley), collected by Hr. H. J. Green- 
 Bteen. In German the work has already passed 
 through two editions, and many have requested that 
 it might be published in a separate volume in our 
 language also. 
 
 Certain comments in the criticism of the public 
 press of Denmark and Sweden lead me to make the 
 following explanations : The narrative is in all es- 
 sentials historic ; above all, the most novel of its in- 
 cidents are historic — some of them even to their 
 most minute details. Captain Mansana is drawn 
 from life ; what he is said to have performed, he 
 really did perform, and the singular destiny ascribed 
 to him is historically his in all that has a determin- 
 ing influence on his psychological development. 
 
 What induced me to make this presentation of his 
 character may be found in a few lines of Theresa's 
 'etter, which concludes this story.
 
 10 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Compare her testimony concerning Mansana with 
 the delineation of the character of Lassalle, published 
 at the same time by Dr. Georg Brandes in his 
 "The Nineteenth Century," and you will observe 
 that the most secret impelling forces of Lassalle's 
 destiny — which Brandes has depicted with so mas- 
 terly a hand — are the same as those which con- 
 trolled Mansana. Lassalle's rich intellectual powers, 
 strong individuality, and great activity are naturally 
 of far higher interest ; but the character-phenomenon 
 is the same, and it entertained me, in its day, that we 
 should both have had our attention drawn to this at 
 
 the same time. 
 
 BJORNSTJERNE BJORNSON.
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 As I was stepping into a railway car at Bo- 
 logna, on a journey to Rome, I bought some 
 daily papers. Among these was a newspaper 
 from Florence, containing a letter from Rome, 
 that soon engrossed my undivided attention, for 
 it carried me back thirteen years to an earlier 
 visit to Rome and to my hosts in a little town 
 in the vicinity of the capital, which at that 
 time belonged to the Pope. The letter an- 
 nounced that the bones of the patriot Mansana, 
 who had been buried in the malefactors' grave- 
 yard at Rome, had now, in response to a peti- 
 tion from his native town, been disinterred, and 
 would, in the course of a few days, be received 
 by the authorities of that town, and attended 
 by delegates from various societies of Rome and 
 the adjacent towns to A , Mansana's birth- 
 place. A monument and solemn festal recep-
 
 12 CAPTAIN MANS ANA. 
 
 tion awaited them there ; the martyr was to 
 have accorded him a tardy recompense. 
 
 Now I had lodged in this Mansana's house 
 thirteen years previous to this ; liis wife and 
 his younger brother's wife were my hostesses ; 
 of the brothers themselves, the elder was a 
 captive in Rome, the younger an exile in Genoa. 
 
 The letter, furthermore, depicted the career 
 of the elder Mansana. With the exception of 
 the last portion, I knew it before, and that was 
 just what increased my desire to join the pro- 
 cession which on tlie following Simday was to 
 start from the Piazza Barberini in Rome and 
 end at A . 
 
 And so on Sunday morning, at seven o'clock, 
 one gray October day, I found myself at the 
 appointed place. There were gathered together 
 a multiplicity of banners, accompanied by those 
 men, as a rule six, which each society had se- 
 lected for the purpose. My eyes were fixed on 
 a banner bearing the inscription, " The Strug- 
 gle for the Fatherland," and to the accompany- 
 ing forms, in red shirts, with sashes about their 
 waists, cloaks thrown over their shoulders, pan- 
 taloons thrust into their boot-tops, and broad 
 hats, with floating plumes. What counte- 
 nances ! What wills ! Those who have seen 
 the usual portrait of Orsini — he who threw
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 13 
 
 bombs at Napoleon the Third — well know the 
 Italian type of countenance belonging to the 
 men who rose in their might against the tyranny 
 of state and church, defying prisons and places 
 of execution, banding together in formidable 
 associations, progenitors of the army that freed 
 Italy. Napoleon had been a member of such 
 a society. He, as well as the rest of his com- 
 rades, had sworn that he would use whatever 
 position he might attain for Italy's unity and 
 welfare, or, in the opposite case, would forfeit 
 his life. Now when Napoleon became Emperor 
 of France, it was the Carbonari comrade Orsini 
 who reminded him of his oath. It was done in 
 such a way, too, that Napoleon knew what he 
 had to expect if he failed to keep it. 
 
 The impression Orsini's portrait made on me 
 the first time I saw it was that ten thousand 
 such men might conquer the world. And here 
 I was in the presence of some of these men who 
 were endowed by the same public need with the 
 same will. There had fallen a certain repose 
 over the wills now ; but something dark about 
 the eyes told that it was not that of peace. 
 The medals on their breasts showed that they 
 had been present at Porte San Pancrazio in 1849 
 when Garibaldi twice repulsed superior num 
 bers of Frenchmen ; in 1858, at Lake Guarda
 
 14 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 Bnd in 1859,111 Sicily and at Naples. And what 
 the medals did not relate, also belonged, in all 
 likelihood, to the history of their lives, namely, 
 that they had fought at Mentana. It is just 
 Buch battle-fields as the latter, unrecognized by 
 the government, that are most deeply branded 
 into the souls of the people. Napoleon was 
 made to feel this after he had secured the aid 
 of Italy against Germany ; it was Mentana that 
 forbade the king and the government to redeem 
 their pledge : to have done so would have cost 
 a crown. 
 
 The contrast between the dark, appalling 
 will of the Italian people and their mocking 
 levity or absolute indifference, is quite as great 
 as the contrast between these men of Orsini- 
 like will whom I here saw and the frivolous 
 countenances, expressing either refined scorn 
 or total apathy, among the surrounding spec- 
 tators, as well as among the representatives who 
 accompanied the banners, bearing such inscrip- 
 tions as " The Press," " Free Thought," " Free 
 Labor," etc., etc. Involuntarily I thought : it 
 is the levity of one half that forces the will of 
 the other half. So great, so universal, had 
 been this levity, that great in proportion, dark 
 in proportion must be the will when roused. 
 A.nd there ran through my mind the histoi*y of
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 16 
 
 Italy in her reckless frivolity and in the decrees 
 of her will. I passed back and forth from Bru- 
 tus to Orsini, from Catilina to Cesare Borgia, 
 from Lucullus to Leo the Tenth, from Savo- 
 narola to Garibaldi, while the multitude was set 
 in motion, banners floated, heralds proclaimed 
 aloud the history of Mansana from the pages 
 and small pamphlets they held in their hands, 
 and the cortege turned into Via Felice. Si- 
 lence reigned : the lofty houses had but few spec- 
 tators thus early in the morning, still fewer 
 when the procession wound its way into Via 
 Venti-Settembre, past the Quirinal ; but the 
 numbers increased as it descended to the Foro 
 Romano and moved past the Coliseum to the 
 Porta Giovanni. Outside of this the hearse 
 waited. It had been provided by the munici- 
 pal authorities; servants of the law drove it. 
 Without delay it set forth. Behind the hearse 
 walked two young men, one in civilian's dress, 
 the other wearing the uniform of a Bersaglieri 
 officer. Both were tall, spare, muscular, with 
 small heads and low brows ; both alike in form 
 and in face, and yet so infinitely different. 
 They were the sons of the deceased. 
 
 I remembered them as boys of thirteen or 
 fourteen, and the circumstance to which my 
 recollections of them clung was curious enough
 
 16 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 I remembered their father's aged mother throw- 
 ing stones after them, and the boys standing at 
 a distance laughing derisively at her. Sud- 
 denly I recalled with the utmost distinctness 
 her strong, wrathful eye, her sinewy, but wrin- 
 kled hands. I cuuld see her gray hair, bristling 
 about the coffee-colored face ; and now as I 
 looked at these boys I could almost have said 
 that the stones she threw had not missed their 
 mark and had become a part of them. 
 
 How their grandmother hated them I Had 
 they given her special cause for this ? That 
 they had ; for hate begets hate, and war war. 
 But at the outset ? Yes ; I was not with them 
 at the time ; but it is not difficult to divine. 
 
 She had been early left a widow, this old 
 woman, and in her strong, young beauty she 
 turned the good graces and sympathy of the 
 people into a source of income for herself and 
 her two sons, one of whom now lay in the coffin ; 
 the only beings she loved, and that with so "fu- 
 rious " a love that it wearied her sons. When 
 they saw the wiles she employed in availing 
 herself of her privileges as a pretty widow, to 
 obtain benefits for her boys, they despised these 
 benefits also. Once turned from her, they cast 
 their affections on ideal things, such as Italy's 
 freedom, Italy's unity, just as they had been
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 17 
 
 taught by ardent young comrades : their moth- 
 er's " frenzied " limitations in regard to what 
 was her own, made them daily more enthusias- 
 tic to sacrifice everything for the common good. 
 They were not merely as strong as she : they 
 were stronger. 
 
 There arose sharp struggles in which she 
 succumbed ; yet not entirely before their con- 
 nections with secret societies had procured for 
 them associations which extended far beyond 
 their native town and the social circle to which 
 her family belonged. Moreover, they each 
 brought home a bride from a more distin- 
 guished house than their mother's, with an 
 outfit larger than hers had been, and with a 
 dower which she could not but call handsome. 
 Then she was silenced for a time ; it seemed to 
 her that, after all, this being a patriot was not 
 without its advantages. 
 
 But the time came when both sons had to 
 flee ; when the elder one was captured and cast 
 into prison ; when the most monstrous publie 
 extortions began ; when unjust officials singled 
 out defenseless widows as their prey. The 
 time came when their house had to be mort- 
 gaged ; then their first vineyard ; finally their 
 second. Aye, the time came when the first 
 vineyard was seized by the mortgage holder 
 
 2
 
 18 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 And the time came when the two aristocratic 
 wives, who had been friends from childhood, 
 went out to service in the field, in the vine- 
 yard, and in houses ; when they had to take 
 lodgers and wait upon them ; and for all this 
 they were rewarded with words of derision, — 
 not only by the clerical party, who under the 
 papal dominion were the absolute rulers of the 
 city, but by others ; for they were in the mi- 
 nority who honored wives for the sacrifices their 
 husbands had made, and who united with them 
 in hoping for freedom, enlightenment, and jus- 
 tice. Now the old woman had won ! But how ? 
 So that she wept over her rejected love, her de- 
 spised counsel, her lost property ; and rising up 
 she cursed the sons who had forsaken and rained 
 her, until a single glance — no word was ever 
 spoken — from the eldest daughter-in-law drove 
 her back again to the hearth where she was in 
 the habit of sitting, and where she passed her 
 time in idleness when such spells came over her. 
 Before very long she would leave the house, and 
 if she met her grandsons, beneath whose low 
 brows she unluckily thought she saw the bright 
 gleam she had first adored, then feared in her 
 own sons, she would draw them passionately to 
 her, warn them against the ways of their fath- 
 ers, grossly abuse the rabble, who were un-
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 19 
 
 worthy of the sacrifice of a penny, to say noth- 
 ing of that of welfare, family, freedom ; and 
 then she would curse her sons, the boys' fath- 
 ers ; they were the noblest, but at the same 
 time the most ungrateful and most foolish sons 
 that ever mother in that town had given birth 
 to ! And the unhappy woman would shake the 
 boys from her, crying, — 
 
 " Do be more reasonable, you worthless 
 scamps ! Why, you are standing there laugh- 
 ing ! Be not like your stupid mothers in there, 
 for they doted on the folly of my boys, — verily, 
 I am surrounded by lunatics ! " 
 
 And she would push her grandsons away and 
 weep, draw herself up, and then retreat. In 
 after years neither she nor the boys used much 
 ceremony in their dealings with one another. 
 They laughed at her when she had one of her 
 attacks, and she flung stones at them ; and at 
 last matters came to such a pass that if she 
 merely chanced to be sitting alone, the boys 
 would say, " Grandmother, have you gone mad 
 again ? " and then the stones would fly. 
 
 But why did not the old woman dare speak 
 in the presence of her daughter-in-law? For 
 the same reason that she yielded in the pres- 
 snce of her sons in days of yore. Her husband 
 had been a sickly man, in no condition to man-
 
 20 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 age his property ; he had chosen her as the 
 complement of himself. To be sure, she raised 
 the property but she lowered him. He had a 
 refined smile, varied culture, and lofty aspira- 
 tions, and he suffered in her society. His no- 
 bler nature she could not destroy, — only his 
 peace of mind and his health. And so it hap- 
 pened that the beauty of character she had de- 
 spised while he lived, gained the ascendency 
 over her after his death. And when it reap- 
 peared as an inspiration in her sons, and as a 
 reproachful reminder in the pure eyes of her 
 daughter-in-law, she was conquered completely. 
 
 I say the grandmother's stones had not missed 
 tlieir mark, and were lodged in her grandsons. 
 Look at those two men marching there ! The 
 youngest, the one in civilian's dress, had a 
 smile about his rather thin lips, a smile, too, in 
 his small eyes ; but I do not believe it would 
 have been well to irritate him. He had been 
 helped on in the world by his father's political 
 friends, had early learned to bow and offer 
 thanks, — I think not, however, through grati- 
 tude. 
 
 But look at the elder ! The same small head, 
 the same low brow, yet both broader. No 
 Bmile about either lips or eyes. I did not even 
 wish to see him smile. Tall and slim like his
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 21 
 
 brother, he was even more bony ; and while 
 both men gave the impression of gymnastic 
 strength, and looked as if they were quite able 
 to leap over the hearse, the elder one gave the 
 additional impression of literally desiring to do 
 BO ; for the half lounging gait of the brothers, 
 the evident result of unused powers, had be- 
 come in the elder an impatient elasticity, — he 
 seemed to walk on springs. His thoughts were 
 apparently absent, for his eyes wandered far 
 beyond all surrounding objects ; and when later 
 I offered him my card and reminded him of our 
 former acquaintance, I had proof that this was 
 really the case. 
 
 I conversed with several persons in the pro- 
 cession who were from the patriot's town. I 
 inquired after grandmother Mansana. There 
 was a general smile, and several at the same 
 time eagerly told me that she had lived until 
 the previous year : she had reached the age 
 of ninety-five. I perceived that she was under- 
 stood. It was told me with equal zeal that be- 
 fore her death she had experienced the satisfac- 
 tion of seeing her home fully her own again ; 
 the one vineyard had been repurchased, and 
 both were free from debt, as were also the 
 fields. AU was done out of gratitude to the pa- 
 triot martyr, whose glory was now on all lips
 
 22 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 it had become the pride of the town ; his life, 
 and that of his brother were, in fact, its sole 
 contribution to the work of deliverance. 
 
 So she had lived to see all this ! 
 
 And I inquired after the wives of the two 
 martyrs, and learned that the younger one had 
 succumbed under her calamities, especially her 
 grief at the loss of her only daughter. But the 
 wife of the elder Mansana, the mother of the 
 two young men, was living. The faces of the 
 narrators became grave, their voices hushed, 
 the conversation was ere long conducted by one 
 individual, with occasional additional remarks 
 by the others, all with a certain slow solemnity. 
 She had evidently acquired power over them, 
 this pure woman, with her grand soul. I heard 
 how she had put herself in communication with 
 her husband while he was yet in prison, had 
 informed him that Garibaldi had instigated a 
 revolt within the town and an attack from 
 without, and that the people were waiting for 
 Mansana to be free ; he was to be the leader of 
 the work in Rome. And he became free ! He 
 owed this to his own rare strength of will and 
 to his wife's wise fidelity. He feigned insanity, 
 that was her counsel; he shrieked until his 
 voice was gone, then until his strength was ex- 
 hausted ; for in the jnean time he had not taken
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 23 
 
 a mouthful either of food or of drink. Almost 
 at death's door, he persevered in this course, 
 until he was transferred to an insane hospital. 
 His wife could visit him there, and from there 
 they fled — not out of the city ; no, the great 
 preparations demanded his presence, and she 
 first waited upon him, afterwards shared his 
 hazardous undertaking. Who else in his place, 
 after so long an imprisonment, would not have 
 sought freedom's soil, when it was but two or 
 three miles distant ? But one of those for whom 
 he risked life and all that was his, betrayed him ; 
 he was again taken captive, and without him a 
 large part of the plan became fruitless : that is 
 to say, it resulted in defeat on the frontiers ; in 
 the conviction, imprisonment or death of thou- 
 sands in the capital and in the provinces. Be- 
 fore the clock struck the hour of freedom, he 
 had been beheaded and buried amongst his dead 
 fellow-prisoners, thieves and murderers, in the 
 great malefactors' burying ground of the capi- 
 tal — from which to-day his bones had been 
 disinterred. 
 
 Now the widow, enveloped in a long black 
 veil, stood waiting for him at the head of the 
 multitude in the flag-adorned church-yard of 
 nis native town, beside the already completed 
 monument. That same day, after the new
 
 24 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 burial, it was to be unveiled amid the thun- 
 der of cannon, to which a festal illumination on 
 the mountains, later in the evening, was to give 
 response. 
 
 Our way led over the yellow gray Cam 
 pagna up towards the mountains ; we advanced 
 from one mountain town to another, and every- 
 where there extended, as far as the eye could 
 reach, a human throng, with uncovered heads. 
 The peasantry from the neighboring towns had 
 assembled in haste ; choruses of music rang 
 through the narrow streets, streamers and flags 
 hung from every window, garlands fell, flowers 
 were strewed about, handkerchiefs waved, and 
 tears glistened. We soon arrived at Mansana's 
 native town, where the reception was still more 
 affecting, and whither no insignificant portion 
 of the larjxe masses from the other towns had 
 followed us. But the crowd was greatest at the 
 church-yard. 
 
 I, however, as a stranger, was favored, and 
 had assigned to me a place not far from the 
 widow. Many wept at sight of her, but she 
 kept her quiet gaze fixed unmovedly on the 
 coffin, the flowers, the multitude. She did not 
 weep ; for the whole of this combined could not 
 restore to her him whom she had lost, nor did 
 it invest him with increased honor in her eyes
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 25 
 
 She looked upon it all as upon something that 
 had been known to her for years before this 
 day. How beautiful she was ! By this remark 
 I do not mean to refer only to the noble lines 
 which could never be wholly obliterated in a 
 face or in eyes which had once been the most 
 beautiful in the town, indeed were still so when 
 I saw her thirteen years before this, although 
 even then she showed traces of having wept too 
 much. No, I refer also to the actual halo of 
 truth that surrounded her form, movements, 
 countenance, gaze. It made itself manifest in 
 the same way as the light, and like this it trans- 
 figured whatever it fell upon. 
 
 I shall never forget the meeting between her 
 and her sons. They both embraced and kissed 
 her ; she held them each in turn long in her 
 arms, as though she were praying over them. 
 A hush fell over all, some involuntarily re- 
 moved their hats. The younger son, whom 
 she first embraced, drew back, with his hand- 
 kerchief to his eyes. The elder stood still, for 
 she looked at him — aye, looked at him ; every 
 eye was turned on him, and he colored deeply. 
 There was unspeakable pain in that look, an 
 unfathomable prophecy. How often I have 
 since recalled it ! With his face dyed crimson, 
 tie firmly returned her gaze, and she looked
 
 26 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 away that she might not goad him to defiance. 
 It was quite apparent that this was so. The 
 tendencies of the two families stood face to 
 face. 
 
 CHAPTER n. 
 
 On the way back, it was not the touching 
 revelation of the mother that was most prom- 
 inent in all I had experienced, it was the Ber> 
 saglieri officer's defiant countenance, his tall, 
 bony form, and athletic bearing. And thus it 
 was that I could not help inquiring about him. 
 To my surprise, I found that it was the daring 
 exploits of this son that had again drawn atten- 
 tion to the father, and called forth the honor 
 so late accorded to his memory. I had fallen 
 upon something genuinely Italian. Concerning 
 father, mother, speeches, reception, beauties of 
 scenery surrounding the last solemnities at the 
 church-yard, torchlights in the mountains, — 
 of all these things not a word was spoken 1 
 Until we parted in Rome, we were entertained 
 with anecdotes about the Bersaglieri officer. 
 
 When yet a boy he had been with Garibaldi 
 and had won favor to such a degree that latei
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 27 
 
 he was kept at a military school by his own and 
 his father's friends. 
 
 A command was intrusted to him, as to so 
 many Italians in those days, before the final 
 examination was passed, and soon he had so dis- 
 tinguished himself that he received a perma- 
 nent appointment. One solitary deed bore his 
 name over Italy, even before he had been in a 
 battle. He was one of a reconnoitring party ; 
 and having wound his way by chance and alone 
 up to the top of a wooded height, he espied, in 
 a thicket behind it, a horse, soon another, drew 
 nearer, saw a traveling carriage, came still 
 closer, and discovered a group of people, a lady 
 and two servants encamped in the grass. He 
 promptly recognized them. The lady had the 
 previous day come driving toward the van- 
 guard, seeking refuge from the enemy, of whom 
 she declared herself afraid. She had been al- 
 lowed to pass ; and now she had returned by 
 another route, and she and her servants were 
 seeking repose in this spot. The horses had an 
 ill-used look ; they had been driven the whole 
 night, and that so hard that it was impossible 
 to progress without first having some rest. All 
 this Mansana read, as it were, at a glance. 
 
 It was on a Sunday morning ; the Italian 
 troops were in camp ; mass had just been read,
 
 28 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 and they were at breakfast when the outposts 
 saw young Mansana coming galloping toward 
 them with a lady on the pommel of his saddle 
 and two unharnessed horses fastened to the lat- 
 ter. The lady was a spy from the enemy's 
 army ; her " two servants," oflBcers of the hos- 
 tile force, lay wounded in the woods. The lady 
 was recognized at once, and Mansana's " Ev- 
 viva ! " reechoed by thousands. The troops 
 broke up; the enemy must be near at hand, and 
 it was soon ascertained that this Giuseppe Man- 
 sana's presence of mind had saved the vanguard 
 from falling into a snare. 
 
 I shall tell many anecdotes about him ; but 
 in order that they may be understood, I must 
 begin by stating that he was the first gymnast 
 and fencer in the army. Both now and later I 
 heard but one opinion of this. 
 
 Immediately after the war he was in garrison 
 at Florence. One day it was told at an officers' 
 caf^ that a Belgian officer, who a few weeks be- 
 fore had been stationed there, had proved to 
 be in reality a papal officer, and now amused 
 himself among his comrades in Rome by mak- 
 ing sport of the Italian officers, whom, with a 
 few exceptions, he pronounced mere ignorant 
 parade puppets, whose main characteristic waa 
 childish vanity. This story excited much in
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 29 
 
 dignation among the officers of the garrison in 
 Florence, and from the cafd where he had heard 
 it young Mansana went at once to the colonel 
 and asked for a six days' furlough. This was 
 granted him. He went home, purchased civil- 
 ian's clothes, and without delay took the direct 
 route to Rome. By the way of the forest he 
 crossed the frontier, and on the third day ap- 
 peared in the officers' cafe in Rome, near the 
 Piazza Colonna, where he soon saw sitting be- 
 fore him the Belgian papal officer. He walked 
 up to the latter and quietly bade him follow 
 him outside. Here Mansana told the officer 
 who he was, bade him take a friend and ac- 
 company him beyond the gates, to give satis- 
 faction to the Italian corps of officers in a duel 
 with him. So frankly and completely did Man- 
 sana trust to the honor of this man that the 
 latter could not fail him. He immediately went 
 in after a friend, and three hours later was a 
 corpse. But young Mansana set out forthwith 
 on his return route through the forest to Flor- 
 ence. Not by him was the affair made known 
 in Florence, where, meanwhile, he had re- 
 mained, but through tidings from Rome, and 
 he was sentenced to a long imprisonment for 
 having left the town witliout permission and 
 for having furthermore been in another coun-
 
 30 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 try ; but the ofl&cers made a banquet for him 
 when he was free and the king honored him 
 with a decoration. 
 
 Shortly afterward he was stationed at a Sa- 
 lerno garrison. Smuggling had become rife on 
 the coast, and the troops were aiding in putting 
 a stop to it. In civilian's dress he went out to 
 make observations, and learned at an inn that 
 a ship carrying smuggled goods was now lying 
 out beyond the range of vision, and was to near 
 the coast under the cover of night. He went 
 home, changed his clothes, took with him two 
 chosen men, and toward evening they all three 
 rowed out in a frail little boat. I heard this an- 
 ecdote told and confirmed on the spot. I have 
 heard it since from others ; and later had the 
 opportunity of reading it in the newspapers ; 
 but nevertheless it always remains incompre- 
 hensible to me, how in boarding a vessel with 
 his two followers he could compel sixteen — 
 sixteen — men to obedience, as he did, and 
 bring the ship to the wharf ! 
 
 After the capture of Rome, in which he also 
 took part, and where he worked miracles, es- 
 pecially during the inundation which followed, 
 he was sitting one evening in the same officers' 
 ^af^, in front of which he had challenged the 
 Belgian papal officer. He there heard som*?
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 31 
 
 brother officers who had just come from a social 
 gathering, telling about a Hungarian who had 
 drank too much Italian wine, and under its in- 
 spiring influence had fallen to boasting about 
 the Hungarians, to such an extent that, after 
 some slight opposition, he had even gone so far 
 as to assert that three Italians would be wel- 
 come to attack one Hungarian ! All the offi 
 cers laughed with those who were telling this, 
 all with the exception of Giuseppe Mansana. 
 
 " Where does this Hungarian lodge ? " asked 
 he. 
 
 His tone was one of utter indifference ; he 
 neither looked up nor removed the cigarette 
 from his mouth. The Hungarian had been 
 followed home, so the desired information was 
 at once given. Mansana rose. 
 
 " Are you going ? " asked they. 
 
 " To be sure," he replied. 
 
 "But surely not to the Hungarian ? " some 
 one inquired, good-naturedly. 
 
 Now there was nothing good-natured about 
 Giuseppe Mansana. 
 
 " Where else ? " cried he, and stiode away. 
 
 The rest rose at once to accompany him. 
 They endeavored on the way to make him sen- 
 sible of the fact that a drunken man could not 
 be called to account.
 
 S2 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 " Do not be alarmed," was Mansana s re< 
 Bponse, " I shall treat him accordingly." 
 
 The Hungarian lodged on the primo piano^ 
 as the Italians say, that is, on the second floor, 
 of a large building in Fratina. In front of the 
 windows of the first floor Qparterre), in every 
 Italian town, there are iron bars, and these 
 Giuseppe Mansana grasped, swung himself up, 
 and soon stood on the balcony outside of the 
 Hungarian's chamber. He broke in the panes 
 of the balcony window, opened it and disap- 
 peared. There was a light struck within — 
 this his comrades who stood below saw. What 
 else transpired they could not ascertain ; they 
 heard no noise, and Mansana has never told 
 them. But after the lapse of a few minutes 
 he and the Hungarian, the latter in his shirt, 
 came out on the balcony, whereupon the Hun- 
 garian declared, in good French, that he had 
 been drunk that evening, and begged pardon 
 for what he had said ; of course an Italian was 
 just as good as a Hungarian. Mansana came 
 down again the same way he had gone up. 
 
 Greater and lesser anecdotes from war times, 
 from garrison and social life (among these some 
 stories of racing which testified of an endurance 
 in running I have never heard equaled), fell 
 like hail upon us ; but all that was told presents,
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 33 
 
 it seems to me, the picture of a man whose 
 presence of mind, courage, love of honor, whose 
 physical strength and energy, dexterity and 
 shrewdness, rouse to the highest pitch our ex- 
 pectations as to his future possibilities, but at 
 the same time fill us with solicitude. 
 
 How Giuseppe Mansana came the following 
 winter and spring to engross the attention of 
 thousands, and among them the author of thia 
 volume, will appear in the story itself. 
 
 CHAPTER ni. 
 
 When Giuseppe Mansana followed his fa- 
 ther's bones to their honored grave, looking as 
 though he would like to leap over the hearse, 
 he was — it soon became manifest — under the 
 influence of a first passionate love. That same 
 evening he took the railway train for Ancona, 
 where his regiment was stationed. It was there 
 she lived, the mere sight of whom had power 
 to subdue the flames which burned with such 
 consuming force. 
 
 He was in love with one who had his nature, 
 one who must be conquered, one who had taken 
 
 3
 
 S4 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 captive hundreds without being herself cap- 
 tured, one of whom an enamored Ancona bard 
 had sung — 
 
 Thou dusky devil, I do love thee, 
 Thy smile of fire, thy blood of wine, 
 And think it is the glow of evil 
 Makes beauty in thy courage shine. 
 Nay, think, the play which never ceases 
 Of lustre in your face and eyes 
 Is Satan's unrest in your nature, 
 Your winnhig laughter his outvies. 
 I think so, fair one ! — but much rather 
 I thee would love 'mid death and tears, 
 Than fall asleep in arms that carry 
 Me to the grave for fifty years. 
 Yea, rather, much the queen of living 
 In majesty that ends no more. 
 E'en though I sink before the riddle, 
 Than follow what I know oefore. 
 
 She was the daughter of an Austrian general 
 and a lady who belonged to one of the oldest 
 families in Ancona. It caused much indigna- 
 tion in its day that a woman of her rank should 
 marry the commander of the detested foreign 
 garrison. 
 
 The indignation was, if possible, increased 
 by the fact that he was almost an old man, 
 while she was but eighteen years of age and 
 very beautiful. But the general's immense fort- 
 une might have tempted her ; for she lived in 
 her splendid palace in actual poverty, — a 
 matter of common occurrence in Italy. The
 
 CAPTAIN MANS ANA. 35 
 
 fact is, the lamily palace is usually entailed 
 property which the occupant is often unable to 
 keep in repair. This was very nearly the case 
 in the present instance. There might, how- 
 ever, have been some other attraction besides 
 the general's wealth, for when, shortly after 
 their daughter's birth, he died, the widow passed 
 her period of mourning in absolute retirement. 
 The church and the priest alone saw her. 
 Friends, with whom she had broken at the time 
 of her marriage, yet who now put themselves 
 to all sorts of trouble in their efforts to again 
 approach the enormously wealthy widow, she 
 fled from. 
 
 Ancona, meanwhile, became Italian, and 
 from the festivals, illuminations, and rejoicings 
 she fled still farther, namely, to Rome, while 
 her palace in Ancona, as well as her villa by 
 the sea, remained closed and deserted as a 
 mute protest. But in Rome, Princess Leaney 
 discarded the black veil, without which no one 
 had seen her since her husband's death, opened 
 her salon, in which might be seen all the high- 
 est aristocracy of the papal dominion, and an- 
 nually contributed large sums to the Peter- 
 pence fund and other papal objects. The first 
 as well as the last increased the hatred felt for 
 her in Ancona, and which through the liberal
 
 86 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 party was also transported to Rome ; and 
 even on Monte Pincio, when, in all her beauty 
 and splendor, she drove out with her little 
 daughter, she could detect it in the glances 
 flashed on her by familiar faces from Ancona 
 and unfamiliar ones from Rome. She defied it, 
 and not only regularly made her appearance 
 on Monte Pincio, but also repaired anew to An- 
 cona when summer drove her away from Rome. 
 Once more she opened her Ancona palace and 
 her villa, and passed most of the time in the 
 latter place in order to avail herself of the 
 baths. She made a point of driving through 
 the town to her house on the Corso or to the 
 church without greeting any one or being 
 greeted in return, but nevertheless she repeated 
 the trip every day. When her daughter grew 
 larger, she allowed her to take part in the ev- 
 ening entertainments of plays and tableaux, 
 which the priests of the city, under the pro- 
 tection of the bishop, got up for the benefit ol 
 the Peter-pence fund in Ancona ; and so great 
 was the child's beauty and the mother's attract- 
 iveness that many attended who would not 
 otherwise have been willing to go. Thus the 
 daughter learned defiance of the mother; and 
 when at fourteen years of age the young gin 
 lost her mother, she persevered in it on her
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 37 
 
 own account, and with such additions as youth 
 and courage invokmtarily supply. 
 
 She was soon more talked about and more 
 severely censured than her mother had ever 
 been, inasmuch as her renown was more widely 
 spread. For with an older lady, whom she took 
 as a companion, a dignified, elegant person, 
 who saw everything but spoke of nothing, she 
 roamed through other countries, from England 
 to Egypt, so planning her journeys, however, 
 that she always passed her summers in Ancona, 
 her autumns in Rome. 
 
 The last-named city became Italian finally, 
 as well as Ancona ; but in both cities she con- 
 tinued to lead what might be called a challeng- 
 ing life in the face of those who noiv ruled, and 
 who sought in every way to win the rich, hand- 
 some woman. Indeed, it has been asserted that 
 young noblemen formed alliances to conquer or 
 crush her. Be this true or not, she believed it 
 herself. And so she lured into her presence 
 those whom she suspected, only to repulse them 
 mercilessly. She first made them mad with 
 hope, then with disappointment. She drove her 
 horses herself through the Corso and on Monte 
 Pincio ; she appeared as a victor on a triumphal 
 progress, with those she had vanquished bound 
 to her carriage ; not every one, to be sure,
 
 38 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 could see this, but she saw it because she felt it, 
 and her victims felt it too. 
 
 She would have been slain, or even worse, had 
 she not had too many worshipers, who in spite 
 of everything formed a body-guard of perpetual 
 adoration about her. To these belonged the 
 bard before mentioned. 
 
 Above all else she became the secret hope 
 and the open hatred of the young ofl&cers of 
 the Ancona garrison. 
 
 Just at the time when Giuseppe Mansana 
 had been removed with his Bersagliers to An- 
 cona, she had been exercising a new caprice in 
 that place. She had resolutely refused to adorn 
 the company that assembled of evenings on the 
 Corso, in order to promenade up and down, 
 by the light of the moon, stars, and gas, the 
 ladies in ball costume, holding before their 
 faces the fans they can use with such wondrous 
 effect, the gentlemen swarming around in fine 
 new summer suits, or in their uniforms, meet- 
 ing friends and acquaintances, laughing, gath- 
 ering together about tables, where groups were 
 ftlready seated enjoying ices and coffee, then 
 passing from these to others, finally to drop 
 down at one themselves, while a quartet, or a 
 wandering chorus, with cithern, flute, and gui- 
 tar might be heard — Theresa Leaney res
 
 CAPTAIN MANS ANA. 39 
 
 olutely refused to contribute to the splendor, 
 the curiosity, the enjoyment, the nobility of 
 these daily exhibitions of the town; on the 
 contrary, she had chosen to be the cause of dis- 
 turbance. 
 
 At sunset, when the carriages of other wealthy 
 people were returning home, she drove out. 
 With two unusually small ponies, the " Corsi- 
 cans," by name, which she had that summer 
 purchased, and, as was her wont, herself holding 
 the reins, she would drive through the town in 
 full trot. Then when the Corso was lighted 
 and the rendezvous had begun, — the general 
 rendezvous between families and friends, the 
 clandestine one between young maidens and 
 their adorers, the silent one between the idler 
 and his shadow, the sighing one between the 
 far-off betrothed lover and his faithful damsel 
 here present, the brief one between the officer 
 and his creditor, the excessively courteous one 
 between the official and him whose death will 
 give him a higher post, — just as the young 
 ladies had succeeded in twice displaying their 
 new Parisian dresses, that is to say, in one prom- 
 enade up and one down the street, and the ad- 
 miring store clerks had passed through the pre- 
 liminaries, and the officers had formed their first 
 "critical group, and the nobility had just conde-
 
 40 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 scended to notice attentions, — tliia arrogant 
 young girl, with her rigid, elderly companion at 
 her side, would come dashing full speed into 
 the midst of the group. The two little ponies 
 would be in full trot, and the officers and young 
 ladies, the nobility and the store clerks, family 
 groups and whispering couples, must part in the 
 utmost haste, in order to escape being run over. 
 A row of bells on the harness of the ponies 
 gave due warning, it was true, so that the police 
 could say nothing ; but all the more did those 
 have to say whom she had insulted twofold: 
 first by her absence, and then by her presence. 
 
 Two evenings Giuseppe Mansana had been 
 on the Corso, and both times had come near 
 being run over. He never before conceived 
 the possibility of such assurance. He learned, 
 too, who she was. 
 
 The third evening, when Theresa Leaney 
 stopped at the accustomed place outside of the 
 town, on her return trip, to have her ponies 
 watered and allow them to rest before begin- 
 ning their trot to the town and its Corso, a tall 
 man stepped forward and saluted her. He was 
 an officer. 
 
 " I take the liberty," said he, " of introducing 
 myself. I am Giuseppe Mansana, officer of the 
 Bersagliers. I have laid a wager to run a race
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 41 
 
 with your little ponies from here to town. 
 Have you any objections?" 
 
 It was after dusk, so that under ordinary 
 circumstances she would not have been able to 
 see him ; but a strong excitement will some- 
 times increase our powers of vision. Astonish- 
 ment, combined with a trifling degree of alarm 
 — for there was something in the voice and 
 bearing that startled her — gave her courage ; 
 for we often become courageous through fear. 
 And so tun ling toward the small head and 
 short face, of which she caught a faint glimpse, 
 she said, — 
 
 " It occurs to me that a gentlemayi would have 
 asked my permission before entering into such 
 a wager; but an Italian officer " — 
 
 She did not continue, for she" grew frightened 
 herself at what she was saying, and there 
 arose an ominous silence, during which her un- 
 easiness increased. At last, she heard from a 
 voice whose tones were more hollow than 
 ever (Mansana's voice always had a hollow 
 sound), — 
 
 " The wager is entered into with myself 
 alone, and, to speak frankly, I propose to make 
 the attempt, whether you consent or not." 
 
 "What?" exclaimed she, seizing the reins, 
 but at the same moment she uttered a shriek
 
 42 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 and her companion a still louder one, as both 
 came near falling from the carriage ; for with 
 a long whip neither of them had imtil now 
 perceived the officer gave the ponies a furious 
 cut across the backs, so that with a plunge they 
 darted forward. Two servants, who had been 
 sitting behind, and who had started to their feet 
 at a sign from their young mistress to come 
 to her aid, were thrown to the ground. Neither 
 of them took part in the drive that now began, 
 and that was not so long as it was rich in in- 
 cidents. 
 
 To Giuseppe Mansana's acquirements — and 
 possibly it was the most practiced of these — 
 belonged, as indicated before, the art of run- 
 ning. The little ponies were not so hard to 
 keep pace with, especially at the outset, when 
 they were vigorously held back and were there- 
 fore not quite sure whether they should trot 
 or not. Theresa, in her wrath, was ready to 
 venture everything rather than tolerate such 
 humiliation. She was determined, therefore, to 
 give her servants time to catch up to her. But 
 just as she was about to succeed in bringing 
 the ponies to a halt, the lash fell whizzing on 
 their backs and forthwith they darted off again. 
 She said not a word, but drew in the reins 
 again, and that so persistently that the ponies
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 43 
 
 were about to halt once more ; but then the 
 whip fell anew, and again and yet again. And 
 now she and they gave it up. Her elderly com- 
 panion, who the whole time had shrieked and 
 clung with both arms to Princess Leaney's 
 waist, fell into a swoon, and had to be sup- 
 ported. Anger and dismay overwhelmed The- 
 resa ; for a while she saw neither ponies nor 
 road, and at last she did not so much as know 
 whether she held the reins. She had indeed 
 dropped them but found them again in her lap, 
 and made a second trial, holding her companion 
 with one arm, yet at the same time managing to 
 grasp the reins with both hands, striving with 
 all her might to gain control of the terrified 
 little ponies. She soon realized the impossibil- 
 ity of this. It was dark ; the tall poplars 
 trotted with them in the air step by step, above 
 the brushwood that grew between them. She 
 knew not where she was. The sole object she 
 could distinguish besides the ponies was the tall 
 form by their side, that like a spectre towered 
 above them, always at the same height and the 
 same distance. Where were they going ? And 
 swift as lightning it flashed through her mind : 
 " Not to the town ; he is no officer, he is a 
 bandit ; I am being driven away from the road 
 — soon others will "oin him ! " And from the
 
 44 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 depths of the anguish caused by this sudden 
 idea, she screamed, — 
 
 " Stop, for Heaven's sake ! What do you 
 want ? Do you not see " — 
 
 She got no farther, for she heard a whizzing 
 sound in the air, the whip cracked on the backs 
 of the ponies, and harder than ever the little 
 animals dashed onward. 
 
 Swift as the speed of the ponies was the flight 
 of her thoughts. " What does he want ? Who 
 is he ? One of those whom I have insulted ? " 
 And in rapid succession the ranks of these passed 
 in review before her. She could find no one 
 whom he seemed to resemble. But the thought 
 of vengeance pursued her startled conscience ; 
 it might indeed be one whom she did not know, 
 but who wanted to take revenge for all the oth- 
 ers. But if this was revenge, she had yet the 
 worst to expect. The bells cut through the rat- 
 tling of the carriage-wheels ; the short, sharp 
 sound darted about her like shrieks of anguish, 
 and, roused to the utmost by terror, she was 
 ready to risk a leap from the carriage. But no 
 sooner had she relaxed her hold on her compan- 
 ion than the latter rolled over like a lifeless ob- 
 ject, and in greater terror than ever the princess 
 picked her up, and with the rigid form thrown 
 icross her lap sat a long time devoid of a single
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 46 
 
 clear idea. At last, as the road made a sudden 
 turn, she perceived a luminous haze over the 
 town. She felt the joy of deliverance, but only 
 for a moment, brief as a glance, for the next in- 
 stant she comprehended the whole : he was an 
 avenger from the Corso ! 
 
 " Oh, no farther ! " exclaimed she, even before 
 the thought was fully matured. " Oh, no ! " 
 
 The words echoed in her ears, the bells leaped 
 with shrill intonation about the group, the pop- 
 lars trotted alongside, but that was all : the 
 race went on, but there came no answer. She 
 saw in her mind's eye her pitiful progress 
 through the city, lashed forward with her faint- 
 ing companion in her arms, and the public on 
 either side, with the oflBcers foremost applaud- 
 ing and jeering. For this was the officers' re- 
 venge ; she was sure of it now. She bowed her 
 head as if she were already there. Then she 
 felt and heard that the ponies were slackening 
 their speed ; they must be near their destina- 
 tion ; but would they pause before they got 
 there ? Once more, with a sudden hope, she 
 looked up. He had dropped behind, — that was 
 the cause of this respite. He was close by her 
 side ; soon she heard his hasty, labored breath- 
 ing, heard finally nothing else, until all her 
 anxiety became centred in the thought, " What
 
 46 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 if he should fall in the middle of the Corso, with 
 blood streaming from his lips and nostrils ! " 
 His blood would then be on her head ; for her 
 challenging defiance had called forth his. The 
 people would spring upon her and tear her to 
 pieces. 
 
 " Spare yourself ! " she begged. " I will 
 yield ! " she cried, in tones of agonized en- 
 treaty. 
 
 But as though startled out of his artful ex- 
 periment, he made one final effort, and in two 
 or three longer strides was once more abreast 
 with the ponies, who the moment they became 
 conscious of his presence, accelerated their 
 speed, but received, nevertheless, two whizzing 
 lash strokes. 
 
 Now she distinctly saw the first gas-lights 
 near the Cavour monument ; soon they would 
 turn into the Corso ; the play was about to be- 
 gin. She felt an unconquerable desire to weep, 
 and yet could not shed a tear, and then she 
 bowed her head in order to shut out all further 
 sight. At that moment she heard the sound 
 of his voice, but not what he said ; the carriage 
 was now on the paving-stones, and besides, he 
 was most likely unable to speak distinctly. She 
 looked up again, but he was no longer visibla 
 Great God ! had he fallen to the ground ? Everj
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 47 
 
 drop of blood stood still within her veins. No : 
 there he was, walking slowly away from the 
 Corso, past the Caf^ Garibaldi. At the same 
 moment she found herself in the Corso ; the 
 horses trotted, the people cleared the way ; she 
 bowed her head still lower over the fainting 
 companion lying across her lap ; terror and 
 shame were chasing after them with the lash. 
 
 When some moments later she came to a halt 
 in the palace court-yard, through whose open 
 gate the ponies had rushed full speed, so that it 
 was a miracle the carriage was not upset or 
 dashed to pieces, — she too fainted. 
 
 An old servant stood awaiting her coming. 
 He called for help ; the two ladies were borne 
 into the palace. Shortly afterward the men 
 who had been thrown from the carriage made 
 their appearance, and related what had occurred, 
 BO far as they knew it. The old servant took 
 them soundly to task for their awkwardness, so 
 that they actually felt ashamed of it themselves 
 and all the more readily did as he bade them : 
 maintained a discreet silence. 
 
 The ponies had run away just as the serv- 
 ants, after a short rest, were about mounting 
 the box. That was all.
 
 48 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 When Princess Theresa Leaney awoke to 
 consciousness her strength seemed wholly ex- 
 hausted. She did not rise from her couch, she 
 scarcely ate a morsel ; no one was allowed to 
 remain with her. 
 
 Her companion walked noiselessly through 
 the great mirrored hall opposite the ante-room, 
 and noiselessly back again when she had fin- 
 ished her errands. Just as noiselessly she 
 stepped back into the small gothic chamber 
 occupied by the princess. The servants fol- 
 lowed her example. Princess Leaney 's com- 
 panion had been brought up in a convent, had 
 come forth from there with high pretensions 
 on the score of her rank and her acquirements, 
 pretensions she maintained for ten years and 
 then for five more — constantly outraged by 
 the inelegance and greed of youth. Finally 
 she obtained in an aristocratic family a posi- 
 tion befitting a lady of rank, still silently pre- 
 serving her feeling of injured dignity ; but as 
 she grew older she submitted to one thing after 
 another, without, however, losing her sense of 
 affront ; she held her peace about everything 
 and devoted all her energies to the accumuW
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 49 
 
 fcion of wealth. Her great secret of success lay 
 in making herself thoroughly acquainted with 
 all that concerned her lofty patrons, and in 
 using her knowledge to the profit of both par- 
 ties. 
 
 And so she was silent. After the lapse of a 
 few days there came from the gothic chamber 
 of the princess the curt little command : " Pack 
 up ! " From later bulletins it was ascertained 
 that a very long journey was in prospect. In 
 a few days more the princess came forth her- 
 self, walked about slowly and silently, gave or- 
 ders concerning some trifles and wrote some 
 letters. After this she disappeared again. The 
 next day brought the message : " This evening 
 at seven o'clock." At the stroke of six she 
 appeared herself in traveling costume, accom- 
 panied by her maid, who was also dressed for 
 traveling. The companion stood ready for de- 
 parture beside the trunks which the servant, 
 who was all ready too, was to close, after the 
 princess had cast an approving glance at their 
 contents. 
 
 The first word the companion had spoken to 
 Princess Leaney since their memorable drive 
 she now uttered. As though by chance she 
 placed herself at the side of the princess, and 
 looking out into the court-yard softly observed : 
 4
 
 50 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 " People in town only know that our poniea 
 ran away — nothing more." 
 
 A withering look of displeasure met her gaze ; 
 this was gradually transformed into one of as- 
 tonishment, and this in turn into one of dis- 
 may. 
 
 " Is he then dead ? " the princess gasped, and 
 every word quivered with agonized dread. 
 
 " No, I saw him an hour since." 
 
 The companion did not return the look the 
 princess gave her, nor had she done so before ; 
 she was gazing out into the court-yard toward 
 the stable, from which the carriage had been 
 drawn out and the horses just led forward. 
 When finally she found it advisable to turn, — 
 and it was long before she did find this advisa- 
 ble, as the princess said nothing and the servant 
 did not stir ; he must have seen something be- 
 fore him which riveted him to the spot, — when 
 finally the companion deemed it advisable to 
 turn she saw in the twinkling of an eye that 
 the effect of her information had been complete. 
 The terrified imagination of the princess had 
 naturally, during these feverish days, pictured 
 the jubilant derision which must now fill the 
 town ; she had fancied it spreading as far as 
 Rome, indeed, through the newspapers, over 
 the whole world ; she had felt her hitherto un
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 51 
 
 bowed, brilliant defiance annihilated in a few 
 hideous moments ; it had seemed to her as if 
 she had been dragged through the mire by the 
 hair of her head. And so no one besides him 
 and themselves knew what had occurred ? He 
 had kept perfectly silent ? What a man ! 
 
 The beautiful large eyes of the princess 
 darted flashes of fire around the room, but 
 shortly afterward they assumed a laughing ra- 
 diance ; she drew up her head and her whole 
 figure, took several turns up and down the 
 room, as far as the trunks and other traveling 
 luggage permitted, thei. smiling and giving her 
 parasol a little twirl, she said, — 
 
 " Unpack I We will not go to-day ! " 
 
 Then she abruptly left the room. 
 
 In a short time the maid came and asked the 
 companion to dress for a walk. 
 
 As often and as long as they had been in 
 Ancona it was the first time the princess had 
 been willing to take part in the evening prom- 
 enade of the fashionable world. Therefore the 
 companion would have had opportunity for 
 some astonished words in reply to the look of 
 astonishment with which the maid accompanied 
 this announcement ; but the look was in itself 
 an impertinence, and so there was nothing 
 said. When Theresa, all dressed, entered the
 
 62 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 great mirror-lined, pillared salon, she could see 
 through the open door into the faintly-lighted 
 ante-room, and there she beheld her companion 
 standing waiting. The costume of the princess 
 alone would have justified the maid's expres- 
 sion of countenance as she opened and closed the 
 door ; but the companion followed as though 
 they had been every day accustomed to make 
 this expedition and as though the princess ap- 
 peared every evening in such elegant attire. 
 
 In a lilac silk dress, richly trimmed with 
 lace, she rustled down the steps. Her figure 
 was vigorous and already rather full, and yet it 
 gave an impression of suppleness because she 
 was also tall and had a certain vivacious bear- 
 ing. Contrary to her custom she now wore her 
 hair dressed in braids, and there floated behind 
 her a long lace veil, fastened on one side of the 
 head with a brooch, on the other with a rose ; 
 the sleeves of her dress were so open that when 
 she used her fan, her long gloves did not quite 
 suffice to cover her arms. She did not join her 
 companion, but strode briskly forward ; it was 
 the duty of the other to keep always at her 
 side. 
 
 The evening was lively, for there was pleas- 
 ant weather for the first time after some blus- 
 tering days. But as the princess advanced aL
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 63 
 
 conversation stopped only to begin again, when 
 she had passed, with a tumultuous current, like 
 a stream that had been dammed up and let loose 
 again. Princess Theresa Leaney participating 
 in the evening promenade ! Princess Theresa 
 Leaney on theCorso! And how? Radiant with 
 beauty, wealth, graciousness, with a friendly 
 look for all, she saluted the ladies she had been 
 in the habit of seeing from childhood up, the 
 merchants she had dealt with, the noblemen and 
 officers she had conversed with. In this the most 
 renowned of all Italian towns for the beauty of 
 its women, she did not, to be sure, carry off the 
 palm ; nevertheless, far and near she had been 
 Buruamed " the beauty from Ancona," and the 
 town had for many years been ready to lower 
 its banner and join in the anthem of homage 
 whenever she wished. And now she was will- 
 ing. There was a look of insinuating entreaty 
 in the eyes with which she smiled a greeting on 
 her " people," something apologetic in the bow 
 with which the smile was accompanied. As 
 she returned she remarked the change in the 
 Bentiments of her subjects, and ventured to 
 pause and converse with the members of one 
 of the oldest noble families of the town. They 
 were sitting in front of a caf^ in the middle of 
 the Corso. They received her with surprise,
 
 64 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 yet courteously; she cared for the rest herself. 
 The old gentleman, who was the head of the 
 family, became more and more fascinated the 
 longer she remained, and took pride and de- 
 light in presenting every one to her. She had 
 a friendly greeting for all, was witty, joyous, 
 and divided her attentions equally between the 
 ladies and the gentlemen, until an atmosphere 
 was created that finally became laden with 
 merriment. The group kept constantly in- 
 creasing in size, and when she moved away a 
 large triumphal procession and loud-voiced con- 
 versation accompanied her. It might be said 
 that the Corso was that evening the scene of a 
 festival of universal reconciliation between the 
 best society of the town and this its comely 
 child, and it seemed as though both parties 
 were alike happy therein. 
 
 The evening was advancing when she, and 
 her followers with her, rose once more from 
 champagne and ices ; it was for the third time. 
 She found no rest very long in any one place. 
 Gayly but slowly the party moved on up the 
 street. Three officers came walking along, 
 somewhat covered with dust, and with rapid 
 Bteps ; they were evidently returning from a 
 long expedition. The companion found her 
 way. as by chance, to the side of the prmcess
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 66 
 
 and whispered something in her ear. The 
 princess looked up, and at once recognized the 
 form — there came Mansana ! 
 
 Quite as a matter of course the companion 
 then glided over to the other side, and The- 
 resa moved farther along toward the place she 
 had left ; it was so near the officers that the 
 nearest one could have stroked her dress with 
 his sabre had he chosen to come one step closer. 
 Now the nearest one was Mansana. The prin- 
 cess saw that he recognized her ; the light fell 
 full on the spot. She observed that he was 
 surprised. But she also noticed that the short 
 vigorous face seemed, as it were, to close itself, 
 that the small deep eyes at once became veiled. 
 He had the considerate tact not to appear to 
 recognize her. She gave him a look for that 
 and for his silence, besides — her large dark eyes 
 sparkled, — a look that went to his heart and 
 kindled there a fire that burst in flames over 
 his cheeks. He walked on, no longer able to 
 fix his thoughts on the conversation of his com- 
 rades. He was obliged, too, to take the express 
 train early that night in order to follow his 
 father's bones, the next day, to their grave of 
 honor in his native place. No one deemed it 
 lingular that he went home eaily.
 
 66 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 chaptp:r V 
 
 The next day, as we have before seen, he 
 lollowed his father's bier with a desire, seem- 
 ingly, to leap far over and beyond it. That 
 one look bestowed on him, who had insulted 
 her, by Princess Theresa Leaney, in whom he, 
 in his proud defiance, had expected to find a 
 deadly enemy, that one look from out of all 
 her beauty and in the midst of her triumphal 
 progress on the Corso, had created a new im- 
 age, and placed it on a pedestal within his soul. 
 It was the image of the princess herself, as 
 life's own victory-radiant goddess. Before this 
 pure, sublime beauty, all calumny sank away 
 as the feeble, vain efforts of a petty soul, and 
 his own conduct seemed like a presumptuous, 
 contemptible piece of brutality. Was it she he 
 had dared frighten and pursue? 
 
 And the development that had led him to 
 Buch profanation, that is to say, his own hard 
 life experience, he now tore asunder, link by 
 link, as he followed his father's bier, begin- 
 ning with his father himself. For from his 
 father this dangerous inheritance of defiance 
 had been transmitted to his soul, where it had 
 taken root. It had inspired him with an ego
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 57 
 
 tistic, savage will ; he had most truly been his 
 own model in every respect. Had his father 
 been anything very different ? 
 
 His noble and beautiful mother had so often 
 wept as she sat alone with her children ; her 
 tears were an accusation against the man who 
 had forsaken wife, child, and property to follow 
 — what ? — his defiance, his ambition, his re- 
 venge, which so often are the unruly comrades 
 of patriotism, becoming at last its masters. 
 He knew this to be so from his own experience 
 and from that of hundreds of others who were 
 now passed in review, one by one. 
 
 The music pealed forth, the cannons roared, 
 the air was filled with cries of Evviva and 
 flowers in honor of his father's memory. 
 
 " What hollowness in such a life," thought 
 the son : " from conspiracy to prison, from 
 prison to conspiracy again, while mother, wife, 
 and child tread the path to poverty; while 
 property is sold and nothing gained except the 
 restless heart's rapid flight from suffering in re- 
 venge to revenge in suffering again. And this 
 suffering was the inheritance of my childhood — 
 and with it an empty life ! " 
 
 And his father's old friends gathered about 
 Viim to press his hand. They congratulated him 
 on his father's honor, they even congratulated 
 bim on being the worthy heir.
 
 68 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 " Aye, my life has been as hollow as his," he 
 continued in his thoughts. " Swayed by a de- 
 light in revenge, as long as there was war, a 
 restless craving for adventure of necessity fol- 
 lowed, a vain ambition, a conceited sense of 
 invincibility became the controlling element of 
 life — brutal, selfish, hollow, all of it." And he 
 vowed that henceforth his comrades should 
 have something else to talk about than Giu- 
 seppe Mansana's last exploit, and that he himself 
 would strive for a nobler pride than that caused 
 by being sated with the consciousness that he 
 never spoke of himself. 
 
 The nearer they drew to Mansana's birth- 
 place, the more exultant became the throng 
 and the more eager to see Giuseppe, the mar- 
 tyr's celebrated son. But to him, here on the 
 play-grounds of his childhood, it seemed as if his 
 grandmother once more sat on the curb-stone 
 and was now casting stones at the procession : 
 she was stoning that which had trampled under 
 foot her life with all that she had gathered 
 about her to make it happy. 
 
 Yet when his mother's grave, troubled eye 
 rested on him, her gaze seemed almost an in- 
 sult. She did not know what thoughts he had 
 just been cherishing about all this, and about 
 bis own life as a continuation of his father's
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 59 
 
 Why should she give him so anxious a look, 
 when he had just bidden farewell to the temp- 
 tations of a passion for honor? And he re- 
 turned her gaze defiantly, for it did not strike 
 home to him. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Two days later Mansana stood on the heights 
 by the wall surrounding the ancient cathedral 
 of Ancona, Neither on the noseless red marble 
 lions that are the bearers of the porch pillars, 
 nor on the glorious bay lying at his feet, did he 
 bestow a look. His eye, indeed, glided over the 
 decks of the ships and boats of lading below, as 
 well as over the busy life in the arsenals and 
 about the wharves ; but his thoughts still lin- 
 gered in the cathedral where he had just been 
 himself, for there he had seen her. A solemn 
 festival had called her thither. He had seen 
 her kneel, and what was more, she had seen 
 him ! Aye, she had evidently been glad to see 
 him, and had given him the same indescribable 
 look as on that ever memorable evening. He 
 could not gaze at her any longer without being
 
 60 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 obtrusive or attracting attention, and, besides, 
 the incense-laden air and the dim, religious light 
 had become unbearable to him. Here, though, 
 it was fresh and free, and thoughts of beautiful 
 objects could float about amid the beauty of the 
 surrounding scene. Behind him he heard the 
 people leaving the church ; he saw them again 
 in the windings of the road below, on foot and 
 in carriages : he would not glance round, he 
 was waiting until he could see her below him. 
 Suddenly he heard steps approaching of one, 
 of two persons ; his heart throbbed, a mist 
 gathered before his eyes ; for the whole world 
 he would not have turned. Some one paused 
 at his side, also in front of the wall. He felt 
 who it was and could not refrain from turn- 
 ing without appearing discourteous. She, too, 
 was now gazing out over the ships, the bay, 
 and the sea, but observed at once that he had 
 changed his position. Her face was flushed, but 
 she colored still more deeply as she smiled and 
 said, — 
 
 " Pardon me for seizing this opportunity. I 
 saw you, and I must express my thanks." 
 
 She ceased. She wanted to say more, he 
 was sure of that. It did not come at once, it 
 was quite an eternity before it came. But at 
 last he heard the words : —
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 61 
 
 " There are times when nothing could be 
 more magnanimous than silence. Thank you!" 
 
 She bowed forward, and he again ventured 
 to look up. What grace ! What a smile was 
 hers, as she glided away, followed by her com- 
 panion ! What a walk, what a noble form ! 
 And her long veil floated about in the wind, 
 playing against her red velvet dress. 
 
 The road leading down from the heights is 
 a winding one ; her carriage, which had halted 
 at some distance, now drove up toward her and 
 turned below the upper wall. But she had not 
 reached it before she too heard footsteps behind 
 her, almost running steps ; she stood still and 
 looked round ; she knew who it was. She met 
 his impetuosity with a smile, doubtless to set 
 him at his ease. 
 
 " I did not at once fully comprehend," said 
 he, as he bowed to her, while a deep flush over- 
 spread his bronzed face. " But it was by no 
 means out of consideration that I was silent, it 
 was from pride. I will not appropriate an 
 honor I do not in the least deserve. And par- 
 don me for my rudeness." 
 
 There was a tremor in his deep-toned voice ; 
 he spoke with an effort • Mansana was not a 
 man of words. As he touched his hat, however, 
 to make his parting salutation, his hand trem
 
 62 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 bled, and this, as well as what had gone before, 
 gave the princess an impression of great elo- 
 quence. 
 
 And thus it came to pass that Princess The- 
 resa was attracted by so much frankness, and 
 felt a desire to reward it ; for what discoveries 
 had not she also made about herself. And thus 
 it happened, furthermore, that Princess Theresa 
 did not step into her carriage, but walked past 
 it between Captain Mansana and her compan- 
 ion. Thus also it chanced that she retraced her 
 steps at his side, and that for more than an 
 hour they walked back and forth at the foot of 
 the upper wall, with the glorious view below 
 them. 
 
 And when finally after she had taken her seat 
 in the carriage and was being whirled round the 
 curve leading into the lower road that ran par- 
 allel with the one she had just left, she once 
 more sent him a bow and a smile in response to 
 his renewed salutation, — he continued his 
 march to and fro in the same spot for another 
 hour. The sharp outlines of the bay, the ver- 
 dure-clad slope of the mountains, the blue infin- 
 ity of the sea, the sails dotted over the latter, 
 and the columns of smoke in the horizon, — 
 beautiful indeed is the bay of Ancona ! 
 
 Through this unpremeditated encounter she
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 63 
 
 had gained about the same knowledge that he 
 had gained ; the history of her past had been 
 very similar to that of his ; she had told him so 
 in acknowledging her vain defiance, her strug- 
 gling ambition : with suppressed exultation, he 
 had received this confession, word by word, from 
 her lips. 
 
 Yonder image of beauty, far, far beyond his 
 plane of existence, now hovered smiling about 
 him, full of faults and yearnings like his own, 
 but encircled by a halo of loveliness and glory 
 into which he felt himself uplifted. 
 
 Oh, the Bay of Ancona ! how bold its wind- 
 ings, how keenly blue-black the bosom of its 
 waters in a breeze, how soft the transitions of 
 color out upon the sea, terminating in a lumin 
 Dus haze ! 
 
 CHAPTER VIT. 
 
 What was it that prevented him from pre 
 sen ting himself forthwith at her palace ? A se- 
 cret hope that she might once more appear to 
 him. A vanity as long buried within the heart 
 and nurtui-ed in secret as Mansana's had been, 
 is capable of the most astonishing surprises ; it
 
 64 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 can, in fact, be both shy and daring at the same 
 time. He was really too shy to seek her, not- 
 withstanding her invitation ; and yet he was 
 bold enough to believe that she would herself 
 come to the place where she had last met him. 
 He went every day to mass, but she did not 
 come ; and when he met her accidentally by 
 the sea, and on foot, he saw that she was either 
 embarrassed or displeased at his non-appear- 
 ance, he could not understand which. 
 
 Too late he discovered that in cherishing a 
 hope founded on his vanity, he had set aside 
 all common politeness. He hastened to the 
 palace and sent in his card. 
 
 An old Italian palace which often has a 
 foundation wall built in the days of the great 
 empire, an interior dating back to the Middle 
 Ages or transition period, an exterior with fa- 
 9ade and portico from the days of the renais- 
 sance, or a period directly following, and whose 
 ornamentations and furniture belong to quite as 
 many ages, while the statues, carvings, mova- 
 bles, may be traced back, the first to the plun- 
 derings of the Crusaders in the Greek islands 
 and in Constantinople, the rest to the Byzantine 
 period, and thence carried down to the present 
 day, — such an Italian palace, which can only 
 be found in seaport towns, is a fragment of the
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 65 
 
 history of civilization as well as that of a fam- 
 ily ; and it produces a strong impression on him 
 who enters it, especially if he be one who was 
 born among the people and is endowed with 
 keen powers of observation. It also invests her 
 who is established therein as the mistress of the 
 triumphal hall of her ancestors, with a con- 
 sciousness which imparts to friendliness some- 
 thing condescending, to politeness something 
 aristocratic ; but even this is not needed to re- 
 move her to a great distance from one who ap- 
 proaches her with an evil conscience. The sur- 
 roundings in such an instance have a terribly 
 subduing effect : even the familiar intercourse 
 of a few preceding interviews cannot prevent 
 the grand stairways, the lofty apartments, the 
 history of a thousand years, from intimidating 
 one who passes through the portal with a breach 
 of courtesy on his conscience. If in addition 
 to all this one's imagination has pictured some- 
 what closer relations with the mistress of the 
 palace, that same imagination will frighten one 
 away to a greater distance than needful. 
 
 Thus it came to pass that the first meeting 
 proved a failure. Mansana was invited to call 
 again, and did so with the embarassing sense 
 that the previous interview had been awkward ; 
 consequently the second call turned out badly.
 
 ^6 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 Afterward he met Llie princess with his wound- 
 ed vanity on guard — and saw her smile. 
 
 All his proud defiance then returned. But 
 what could he do ? Here he dared not swear, 
 not even speak ; he was silent ; he suflt'ered, he 
 went away, came again, and became aware 
 that she was toying with his agony ! Had she 
 once felt herself vanquished, she now learned 
 the relish of conquering her victor : she was 
 treading familiar paths, and thus she bore her- 
 self with entrancing superiority. 
 
 Never did captured lion so tug at his chains 
 as did Giuseppe Mansana at the delicate net- 
 work of ceremonials and patronizing condescen- 
 sion that surrounded him. Nevertheless, it was 
 impossible for him to remain away. In the 
 frenzy of his nights and the soul-consuming 
 mad chase, round and round in the same circle, 
 by day, his strength was exhausted. Humility 
 took possession of him. 
 
 He could not bear to hear her discussed by 
 others ; and he himself dared not mention her 
 name lest he should betray his passion and be- 
 come an object of derision. He could not brook 
 seeing her in the society of others ; and he 
 himself dared not associate with her lest he 
 should be compelled to undergo some humilia- 
 tion. Not once, but a hundred times he felt
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 67 
 
 a desire to slay both her and whoever for the 
 moment she preferred to him, but was forced 
 to control himself and go away. He was thor- 
 oughly convinced that this must lead to in- 
 sanity or death, perhaps to both. 
 
 Yet so utterly powerless was he to struggle 
 against his danger that at times he would lie 
 flat on the ground in order to present to him- 
 self a picture of his own utter helplessness. 
 
 Why not end his career in some deed, some 
 brilliant deed of revenge, worthy of his past ? 
 But, like thunder-clouds above a mountain, 
 thoughts like these glided across his soul while 
 it was in the fetters of Nature's law. 
 
 At last he was formally bidden to Princess 
 Theresa's palace. One of the most celebrated 
 musicians of Europe, returning that autumn 
 from still farther south, passed through Ancona, 
 and stopped there to pay his respects to the 
 princess, whose acquaintance he had made in 
 Vienna. She invited all the Slite of Ancona to 
 a superb festival, the first she had given in her 
 palace. The arrangements were worthy of her 
 wealth and station ; universal joy prevailed, 
 bearing along in the current the invalid master 
 himself, who took a seat at the piano and began 
 to play. The first note he struck had power to 
 transform the entire assemblage into a group
 
 68 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 of friends, as often happens when beauty re- 
 moves all restraints. 
 
 Theresa's eyes sought those of others, in or- 
 der that she, too, might give and receive ; and 
 as her gaze wandered around it fell on Mansana, 
 who in complete self-forgetfulness had pressed 
 forward and was standing close beside the 
 piano. The master was playing a composition 
 entitled " Longing," in which out of the most 
 profound anguish there was a reaching upward 
 for consolation. He played like one who had 
 known sorrow that bore him to the brink of 
 despair. Never had the princess beheld a coun 
 tenance like Mansana's at this moment. It was 
 harder than usual, aye repulsively hard ; and 
 yet tear after tear rolled in rapid succession 
 down his cheeks. He looked as if he were brac- 
 ing himself with an iron will, in order not to 
 break down, and at the same time he gave the 
 impression of trying to force back his tears. 
 She had never seen anything so full of contra- 
 diction and so wretched. She gazed intently 
 at him, and becoming overwhelmed at last by a 
 strange dizziness that even caused her to believe 
 that it was he who was in danger of falling, she 
 rose to her feet. A loud burst of applause 
 brought her to her senses, at the same moment 
 Bo far withdrawing all eyes from her that she
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 69 
 
 gained time to compose herself and wait until 
 she could again safely dare to look up and en- 
 deavor to draw a long breath. 
 
 The composition was not quite ended, but 
 she saw Mansana steal toward a door; doubt- 
 less the applause had startled him, too, and led 
 him to the discovery that he was unable to con- 
 trol his emotions. 
 
 Her terror of a moment since still tingling 
 through her veins, she abruptly sped through 
 the listening multitude, to the astonishment of 
 all, and passing out of the nearest door, has- 
 tened onward as though it depended on her to 
 hinder a misfortune, — not without a feeling of 
 guilt, not without a feeling of responsibility. 
 As she had expected, he stood in the ante-room, 
 where he had just thrown his cloak over his 
 shoulders ; his hat was already on his head. 
 None of the servants were at hand, for they too 
 had taken the liberty to listen to the music, 
 and so she walked rapidly forward. 
 
 " Signore! " 
 
 He turned, met her flashing eyes, and saw 
 her excitement, as with both hands she stroked 
 back the stray locks from cheeks and neck, a 
 movement which with her always I etokened 
 decision but at the same time invested ber form 
 with its highest beauty.
 
 70 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 " The train yesterday brought me the new 
 Hungarian horses I told you about lately. To- 
 morrow we must try them. Pray, will not you 
 do me the kindness to drive for me ? Will you 
 not ? " 
 
 His bronzed skin grew pale ; she heard his 
 rapid breathing. But he neither looked up nor 
 spoke, he merely bowed in acquiescence. Then 
 he laid his hand on the artistically wrought 
 door handle, which yielded with a sonoi'ous 
 sound, 
 
 " At four o'clock," she added, hurriedly. 
 
 He bowed once more without raising his eyes, 
 but in the open door he turned toward her 
 again, hat in hand, proudly erect. This was 
 his farewell. He saw her bestow on him a 
 questioning look. His countenance might have 
 called this forth. It certainly could not have 
 concealed the flash of inspiration which illu- 
 mined his gloomy mind, for now the knowl- 
 edge had come to him how all this was to end.
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 71 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 At four o'clock the next day he was ushered 
 by a servant through the ante-room and mir- 
 rored salon into the concert hall, and onward 
 to one of the interior gothic rooms, where lay 
 scattered the photogi'aphs of the last journey. 
 It was announced to him that the princess 
 would be ready immediately. 
 
 She made her appearance in a sort of Hunga- 
 rian or Polish costume ; the weather was rather 
 chilly now in November, and especially to-day. 
 She wore a close-fitting velvet dress, with a sa- 
 ble-edged sacque, which reached to the knees, 
 on her head was a high, sable-trimmed cap, her 
 hair floated loose. 
 
 As she gave him her hand, which was cased 
 in a white glove, whose sable heading was bor- 
 dered with lace, it was with the same firm, con- 
 fiding trust to which eyes, face, aye, the volup- 
 tuous form itself, bore witness. It could not he 
 otherwise ! At all events, his interpretation 
 was that she wanted to manifest a confidence 
 she did not possess. This was confirmed by her 
 Boon lightly observing that perhaps it might 
 be as well to postpone the drive: the horses 
 had not yet recovered from the shock of their
 
 72 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 railroad travel. With cold derision he dis- 
 missed her fears. She studied his face : it be- 
 tokened excitement and suffering, but was oth- 
 erwise a closed book — as it was wonderfully 
 capable of appearing. His manner was distant 
 but more decided than it had been for a long 
 time. Word was brought that the horses were 
 waiting without ; at the same moment the 
 companion entered. Mansana offered the prin- 
 cess his arm; she took it. On the steps she 
 again looked up in his face and thought she 
 perceived a light in it. Now she was alarmed. 
 At the carriage door, availing herself of the op- 
 portunity arising from the necessity of having 
 the horses held while they got into the vehicle, 
 she again said, — 
 
 " Is it not really too soon to drive with 
 them ? Had we not better put it off until an 
 other time ? " 
 
 Her voice quivered as she spoke, and laying 
 her trembling hand on Mansana's arm, she 
 looked up trustingly into his eyes. Hia counte- 
 nance became transformed under this look, his 
 eyes darkened. 
 
 " I thought you would scarcely be willing to 
 venture on a drive with me — a second time ! " 
 
 Blushing crimson, the princess jumped into 
 the carriage. Pale as a corpse, rigid as a pole
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 73 
 
 the companion followed ; but as though bound 
 for the dance Mansana sprang lightly on the 
 box. No servant accompanied them, the car- 
 riage was a light one-seated vehicle. 
 
 As soon as the horses were set free, the dan- 
 ger became manifest ; the animals stood on their 
 hind legs, one of them pulled in one direction, 
 one in another. It certainly took more than a 
 minute to drive through the gate. " Good 
 Heavens ! to think that you should wish this ! " 
 whispered the companion, her eyes fixed in dead- 
 ly terror on the two animals, who reared and 
 plunged and reared again, received each a blow 
 with the whip, darted back, tried to spring to 
 one side, received another blow, drew back, 
 gained another blow, and finally started for- 
 ward. The mode of applying the lash was evi- 
 dently not the most approved in the world. 
 
 When the street was reached the two foreign 
 horses began to tremble and stamp on the 
 ground ; the new objects about them, the new 
 sounds, the new coloring, the brilliant south- 
 ern light and warm glow over everything, 
 frightened them. But Mansana's skill and 
 strength of arras kept them in a gentle walk 
 until they had passed the Cavour monument ; 
 then they began gradually to break loose. Man 
 8ana looked over his shoulder and met Princess
 
 74 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 Theresa's eyes, and now it was he who was 
 happy and she who suffered. 
 
 What could have led her to the unlucky no- 
 tion of planning this drive ? No sooner had she 
 proposed it than she regretted having done so. 
 She had felt sure, the moment she detected 
 that gleam in his eye yesterday, that he would 
 use this drive as a punishment, and that too 
 with the same merciless resolution he had 
 shown before. Why, then, was she sitting here ? 
 While noting accurately every movement made 
 by him, by the horses, she asked herself this 
 question over and over again, not with a view 
 of obtaining an answer, but because her thoughts 
 must be active. 
 
 Forward sped the horses in the most rapid trot 
 that was possible ; nor did their speed slacken. 
 Mansana finally looked round. It was a move- 
 ment of exultation ; his eyes shot fire. But this 
 was only the momentary introduction to what 
 followed. Raising his whip, and giving it a 
 dexterous swing, he let it fall whizzing on the 
 backs of both animals at once. No sooner did 
 they hear its sound in the air than with a leap 
 forward they broke into a gallop. 
 
 Not a sound from the two who sat within. 
 
 Then he repeated the feat, thereby com- 
 pletely maddening the horses.
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 75 
 
 The road began to wind up a steeper and 
 Bteeper hill. And just at this point Mansana 
 raised the whip for the third time, swung it 
 over his head like a lasso, and let it fall. 
 
 Now this action, during this furious speed, 
 at such a place, was clear as a lightning flash 
 in its significance : it was not punishment he 
 sought, it was death, — death with her ! 
 
 If there be any faculty of our soul which tes- 
 tifies of its divine origin it is this : the amount 
 of time and number of events it can compass in 
 the second of a second. From the moment 
 when the whip inscribed that jubilant arc in 
 the air until it fell, Princess Leaney had not only 
 discovered but had actually experienced their 
 united lives, interpreted by the new light, and 
 had gained certainty in regard to this silent, 
 proud love of Mansana's, that made him ready 
 to meet death with exultation when it could be 
 shared with her, — and in that same second of 
 a second she had buth formed her resolve and 
 carried it into execution. 
 
 For simultaneously with the fall of the whip 
 he heard behind him the one word, " Man- 
 sana ! " — not uttered in terror or condemna- 
 tion : no, it was a wild shout of joy. He 
 whirled round ; there, in the midst of this tem- 
 pestuous drive, she stood erect, with beaming
 
 76 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 couuteuance and outstretched arms. More rap 
 idly than it can be told, he had turned toward 
 the horses, thrown aside the whip, wound the 
 reins three times around his arms, and, strain- 
 ing every nerve, braced himself against the 
 dash-board of the carriage. He would live with 
 her. 
 
 Now, indeed, a desperate struggle ensued. 
 He had resolved to turn the course of death's 
 bridal procession into that of life. 
 
 In a whirling cloud of dust, on the very brink 
 of the precipice, they dashed stormily onward ; 
 the foaming horses could be forced to hold their 
 heads higher, so that their manes fluttered be- 
 hind them, like sable pinions, — that was all. 
 At last Mansana grasped the right rein with 
 both hands, in order to guide the mad race into 
 the middle of the road, — taking his chance 
 about encountering whatever obstacle might be 
 in the way ; for at all events they should pass 
 proudly through the portal of death. He suc- 
 ceeded in getting the horses into the middle of 
 the road, but their speed was not checked, — 
 and lo ! far beyond he thought he descried a 
 mass of objects approaching ; the whole road 
 was blocked up by it. A nearer view proved it 
 to be one of those interminable herds of cattle 
 which in the autumn are driven to the seashore^
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. ' 77 
 
 Then he started to his feet, flinging the reins 
 over the dash-board. A loud shriek behind 
 him ! He leaped forward ; still another pierc- 
 ing shriek ; but he was already on the back of 
 the right horse, grasping the other by the bit. 
 The one on which he was sitting sprang into 
 the air while still running, whereby it was 
 thrown down by the other horse. It was 
 nevertheless carried along for some distance 
 by the outer thill until this broke beneath the 
 burden, and was then still dragged onward un- 
 til the neck-yoke also gave way. Mansana's 
 grasp of the bit saved him, and together with 
 the weight of the disabled horse, brought the 
 race to an end. But the fallen horse felt the 
 carriage upon it and kicked out wildly ; the one 
 standing reared ; the carriage pole snapped, 
 one piece struck Mansana on the side, yet he 
 did not relax his hold, and was now in front of, 
 or rather under, the standing horse, with a cruel 
 grip in its nostrils, until it became as meek as 
 a captured, trembling lamb. He was up him- 
 self in a moment ; the prostrate horse, which 
 had made several dangerous attempts to rise, 
 was helped. 
 
 And now, thickly covered with dust, tattered 
 and torn, bleeding, hatless, Mansana for the 
 first time ventured to look up and about him.
 
 78 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 Theresa was standing at the open carriage 
 door. She must have been about to jump out 
 and have been cast back by one of the terrible 
 shocks they had experienced, and have started 
 to her feet again, — or something to that effect ; 
 Bhe herself knew not how it had happened. But 
 what she now did fully comprehend was that 
 he stood there safe, holding the shivering horses 
 by the bits. 
 
 Out of the carriage and toward him she 
 sprang ; and he turned to receive her with 
 wide open arms ; she flung herself into them ! 
 Bosom was strained to bosom, lip sought lip, 
 and thus these lofty forms stood wrapped each 
 in the other's embrace. And this seemed as 
 though it would never end. The arms did not 
 relax, not even to renew their clasp, neither 
 were lips nor eyes withdrawn ; hers only sank 
 deeper into his. 
 
 The first word that was spoken was a whis 
 pered " Theresa ! " Then their lips were again 
 sealed. 
 
 Never did woman with greater rejoicing ac- 
 cept the place of ruler than she that of subject 
 when this embrace at last came to an end. 
 Never did fugitive, with such prodigiously 
 sparkling, joyous eyes, beg pardon for hav- 
 ing struggled for freedom. Never befort^ did
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 79 
 
 princess plunge with such zeal into her duties 
 as a slave, as did she, when she discovered his 
 wound, his torn and dust-covered condition. 
 With her delicate white hands and her rich 
 handkerchief and pins, she began to cleanse, 
 bind up, and fasten together, and with her eyes 
 she healed and made whole, — perhaps not the 
 wounds, and yet it really was the wounds, for 
 he felt them no more. 
 
 For each little service, there was an added 
 caress, fresh silent or spoken joy. Finally they 
 so entirely forgot carriage, horses, and compan- 
 ion, that they betook themselves on their way 
 toward town, as though there remained to them 
 nothing more than to press onward with their 
 new-found happiness. A cry of alarm from the 
 companion and the slowly approaching herd 
 awakened them. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Their blissful intoxication neither ended 
 that day nor the days that immediately fol- 
 lowed. The higher circles of Ancona were 
 drawn into it, since the betrothal was celebrated
 
 80 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 with fStes and excursions. There was indeed 
 Bomething sturtliugly romantic iu the whole af- 
 fair. Mansana's fame, the wealth, rank, and 
 beauty of the princess ; she the hitherto invin- 
 cible, he the ever victorious ; and then even the 
 circumstances attending the betrothal, that in 
 the mouths of the people had acquired the most 
 incredible embellishments, — all this combined 
 to heighten one degree Princess Theresa's fe- 
 licity, surrounding it with a truly magic halo. 
 
 When these two were seen together, a fine 
 contrast was presented by them. They were 
 both tall, they had the same elastic step and 
 proud carriage ; but her face was long, his 
 short ; her eyes were large and wide-open, his 
 small and deep. One could not but admire her 
 delicate, long nose, pouting lips, noble chin, 
 beautifully arched cheeks, encircled by black 
 hair ; but his low brow, small, firmly com- 
 pressed mouth, defiant chin, shortly-cropped 
 hair, did not invest him with beauty. Quite 
 as great was the difference between her out- 
 wardly-manifested joy, her brilliant discourse, 
 and his taciturn manner. 
 
 But neither she nor their friends would have 
 had him otherwise, not even at such a time as 
 this ; for he was true to his nature. Why 
 even matters on which he was ready to stake
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 81 
 
 his life became transformed into every-day com- 
 monplaces when he allowed himself to talk 
 about them ; but as a rule he did not talk. 
 
 And so neither the princess nor the social 
 circle in which she and Mansana moved, per- 
 ceived that now, aye, at this very time, he was 
 undergoing a great change. 
 
 There is a certain boundless submission, a 
 jealous zeal in rendering service, which con- 
 verts the recipient into a slave or a mere tool. 
 Not a moment's liberty, not a particle of free- 
 dom of will is allowed to remain. The slightest 
 expression of anything of the kind calls forth 
 twenty new plans for the attainment of what is 
 desired and a tumult of passionate actions. 
 
 There is a way of giving confidence which 
 insinuates itself into those precincts of our soul 
 where mortal has never penetrated before — 
 divines thoughts, brings to light reflections, and 
 is exceedingly embarrassing to one who has 
 been in the habit of living shut up within him- 
 self. 
 
 Such and more was the case in regard to Man- 
 Bana. Within a few days he was satiated ; the 
 ineffable exhaustion resulting from excitement, 
 that of despair as well as that of joy, made him 
 doubly irritable. There were moments when he 
 abhorred the sight both of her and of society.
 
 82 CAPTAIN MANS ANA. 
 
 He was shocked himself at this as at the black- 
 est ingi-atitude, and in the honesty of his soul 
 he finally confessed it to her. He gave her 
 some idea of what he had suffered, and how 
 near destruction he had been, showing her that 
 this excess of mad public festivity was just the 
 opposite of what he needed. He could bear no 
 more. 
 
 She was deeply moved by this revelation. In 
 the midst of a cloud of the wildest self-ac- 
 cusations, she decided on rest for him, depart- 
 ure for herself. She would go to Rome and 
 Hungary to make arrangements for the wed- 
 ding ; he should go to a mountain fortress far- 
 ther south, where he could exchange with an 
 oflBcer who wanted to be in Ancona. She was 
 BO strong she speedily carried this plan into ex- 
 ecution. Within two days both he and she 
 had left the place. The parting on her side 
 was very affecting ; on his, truly heartfelt : her 
 love and ardor touched him. 
 
 But no sooner was he alone, first on the 
 journey and afterward in the garrison, than he 
 sank into a state of complete apathy. He had 
 scarcely any other recollection of her than a 
 confused tumult of impressions. He could not 
 even prevail on himself to open the letters that 
 came from her ; he shrank from her vehemence.
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 83 
 
 The fact was she telegraphed and wrote at 
 least once each day, and when his obhgations 
 to reply pressed too heavily upon him, he fled 
 from his own room, where all lay unfulfilled 
 and waiting. When not on duty, therefore, he 
 wandered about in the woods and hills beyond 
 the town, for the country was unusually wild 
 and beautiful in this yicinity. 
 
 On these excursions he could dissolve all he 
 had been through into a species of illusion. The 
 title of principessa-eccellenza has not the same 
 charm in Italy as elsewhere ; there are too many 
 who bear it, some of them occupying question- 
 able positions. Nor had the fortune inherited 
 by Theresa from her father anything alluring 
 about it, for it had been gained by her mother 
 through treachery to the fatherland in its pe- 
 riod of degradation. Neither did Theresa's 
 beauty continue to hold sway, for it was begin- 
 ning to grow too ripe. Their romantic meet- 
 ing no longer sufficed to wipe out the long 
 humiliation she had at first permitted him to 
 endure, and her final abandonment left behind 
 a sense of ennui. In stronger moments, how- 
 ever, Mansana's dream-images strove to attain 
 different forms, but then his pride revolted and 
 assured him that in a union with Princess Lea- 
 ney he must always be the inferior, perchance
 
 84 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 in the tjiid the toy of her caprices. Had he not 
 akeady been so ? 
 
 After his morning walk he usually rested on 
 a bench beneath an old olive-tree, just beyond 
 the town. From there he walked down to his 
 breakfast. One morning he saw two people, 
 an elderly gentleman and a young lady, take 
 their seats on the bench as he left it. The 
 same thing occurred the next morning and at 
 the same hour. The day following this he 
 kept his seat rather longer than usual, not 
 without design, and thus had an opportunity to 
 look at the young lady and talk with the old 
 gentleman. The facility with which Italians 
 enter into a conversation and an acquaintance 
 soon made him possessor of the facts that 
 the gentleman was a pensioner from the past 
 administration ; that the young lady was his 
 daughter, was about fifteen years of age, and 
 was just out of a convent. She kept very close 
 to her father and spoke but little, yet Mansana 
 thought she had the sweetest voice he had ever 
 heard. 
 
 Afterward they met every day and not by 
 chance. He always waited on the heights until 
 he saw them coming up from the town, and 
 then he approached the bench. They were both 
 Very friendly and quiet. The old gentleman fel
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 85 
 
 into the habit of talking a little every day, in 
 a timid way, about politics ; when he was 
 through Mansana would exchange a few words 
 with the daughter. She was the living image 
 of her father. He had been corpulent ; his face 
 still preserved a certain wrinkled plumpness. 
 She would become just like him, for her little 
 dumpy figure gave promise of this ; it pos- 
 sessed, however, that budding fullness to which 
 a morning dress is so becoming, and Mansana 
 never saw her in anything else. The father's 
 eyes were feeble and watery; hers were half 
 closed, her head, too, she kept slightly bowed. 
 The little individual's face and figure had great 
 powers of attraction in this quiet intercourse. 
 Her hair was carefully done up, day after day, 
 in the latest style ; this betrayed a desire on 
 the part of the child of the cloister to be one 
 with this wicked world. Those small plump 
 hands that were so well poised on the firmly- 
 knit wrists, were always busied with some 
 dainty bit of needle-work which the head was 
 bowed over and the half-closed eyes followed. 
 She raised the drooping lids when Mansana ad- 
 dressed her, but usually bestowed only a side 
 glance on him, although she did not wholly 
 look away. The yet undeveloped soul of a 
 child peeped forth from her eyes half shyly,
 
 86 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 half joyously, but with thorough cu/iosity, on 
 the new world she had entered, and on this new 
 person she had found in it. The more one 
 gazes into such half -closed eyes, the more they 
 fascinate, inasmuch as they never wholly reveal 
 their hidden depths. So far as hers were con- 
 cerned, there was often sometking roguish lurk- 
 ing in their corners, and what they actually 
 thought of him — aye, that Mansana would 
 have given much to know. And simply in 
 order to gain favor in her eyes he told her 
 more about himself than he had ever in his life 
 told to any one person. It diverted him to 
 watch her two dimples coming and going while 
 he talked, and the continual play about the 
 small mouth, which was as red and as sweet 
 as an untouched berry. 
 
 But it diverted him still more when, with a 
 voice whose innocent tones rang in his mind 
 like the warbling of birds on a parched summer 
 morning, she began bashfully but inquisitively 
 to question him about his approaching mar- 
 riage. Her ideas concerning betrothals and 
 wedding- trips, if not directly expressed, at least 
 peeping out all over her questions, were so 
 enchanting that they restored the old charm to 
 the subject itself. 
 
 To her it was due that ten or twelve days
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 87 
 
 after his arrival in this place Theresa actually 
 received a letter from him, and immediately 
 afterward several others. 
 
 He was no master of the pen ; his letters, 
 therefore, were as brief as his conversations; 
 that they became ardent was due again to the 
 little one. Every morning after breakfast he 
 wrote ; the fact was, he took so lively a pleas- 
 ure in those innocent morning conversations, 
 surveying the fresh girlish form, the deft fin- 
 gers that were engaged in the needle-work, the 
 harmony of mouth, eyes, and dimples, enjoying 
 the tones of her voice, that all his old yearnings 
 were revived. 
 
 Quite a contrast to the little one did Theresa 
 present in all her superb grandeur of body and 
 mind, when he sat at his desk holding converse 
 with her. Even now he could not smile at her 
 vehemence, yet how magnanimous was her ac- 
 ceptance of his silence : — 
 
 " It did not worry me in the least. Of course 
 you should not have written ! You needed 
 rest even from me ; you ought to have been 
 free from my letters, too, at all events from 
 their impetuosity. But forgive me ! This is 
 your fault alone, as / alone am to blame for 
 «^hat you now suffer. I can never forgive my- 
 self, but will endeavor to make amends to you 
 through all the rest of my life I "
 
 88 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 Not one in a thousand would have thoui'^bt 
 and written thus ; he was forced to admit this to 
 himself — and at the same time that she always 
 exhausted liira. In order to become more com- 
 posed and calm, he wrote her about Amanda 
 Brandini, — that was the young girl's name. 
 
 He repeated a conversation the little one 
 had had with him about weddings and mar- 
 riages. It seemed to him very attractive, and 
 he thought he had expressed it so well that he 
 could not help reading the letter over a second 
 time. 
 
 The sprightly morning meetings, over which 
 he rejoiced the whole day long, were never fol- 
 lowed by an invitation to visit father and daugh- 
 ter in their own home. This honorable reserve 
 pleased Mansana and the interviews awakened 
 ever greater and greater longings for Theresa. 
 How unspeakably was not the princess sur- 
 prised when she received a telegram announc- 
 ing that he would meet her in Ancona in three 
 days, — he yearned for her. 
 
 The day the telegram was sent he happened 
 to be lounging about a square, on which was a 
 caf^, and feeling thirsty he entered it. He sat 
 looking out on the square, while waiting to 
 be served, — he had never been there before. 
 Suddenly he discovered Amanda Brandini or
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 89 
 
 a balcony opposite. So that was where she 
 lived. 
 
 But at her side and leaning over the railing, 
 as she was doing, and so near her that he could 
 breathe her breath, stood a gay young lieuten- 
 ant. He had been presented that same fore- 
 noon to Mansana, who had heard that he was 
 from a neighboring garrison, and that he was 
 usually called " the Amorin." 
 
 But now " the Amorin's " eyes hung on 
 hers ; they were both smiling, while their lips 
 moved, and as what they were saying could not 
 be heard it looked to Mansana as though they 
 were whispering confidentially together. They 
 never seemed to get through. 
 
 Giuseppe Mansana felt the blood rush to his 
 heart, and he experienced a burning pain. He 
 rose and strode away, then remembered that he 
 had not paid for what he had left behind un- 
 touched, turned and settled his account. When 
 he got outside and again looked up, he was sur- 
 prised to see the two in the balcony engaged in 
 wrestling. "The Amorin" was urging some- 
 thing, she was defending herself, as red as 
 blood. The struggle set off her figure, her 
 eagerness, her face. '• The Amorin's" insolent 
 assurance called forth a tumultuous opposition. 
 Who had admitted such a house-breaker? 
 Where was her father?
 
 90 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 The next morning Mansana sat earlier than 
 was his wont on the bench ; but the other two 
 also came earlier. They, too, must find satisfac- 
 tion in the interviews and desire to prolong 
 them, now that but two yet remained. From 
 the inevitable political introduction with the 
 father, he suddenly turned toward Amanda 
 with, — 
 
 " Who was that you were wrestling with on 
 the balcony yesterday ? " 
 
 Her face became suffused with the loveliest 
 blushes, while her eyelids drooped even more 
 than usual ; still she tried to look at him. 
 
 A young girl blushes, indeed, at everything, 
 but this Mansana did not know. He grew 
 quite as pale as she was rosy. This alarmed 
 her ; he saw it, and mismterpreted this also. 
 
 The father, who had been listening with 
 open mouth, broke out, — 
 
 " Ah, now I understand ! Luigi, my sister's 
 son, Luigi Borghi ! Yes, he is in town on a 
 visit of a few days ; will remain for the town 
 festival. Ha, ha, he is a madcap ! " 
 
 But Giuseppe Mansana went straight from 
 this interview to his friend Mtijor Sardi, the
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 91 
 
 man for wliose sake be had chosen this especial 
 garrison, and asked him about Luigi's charac- 
 ter. It was bad. 
 
 Thence he went to the young man himself, 
 who lived at a hotel and had just risen. Luigi 
 Borghi greeted his superior officer respectfully 
 and with many apologies. They both took 
 Beats. 
 
 " I leave here to-morrow to be married," be- 
 gan Mansana. " I mention this in order that 
 what I am about to say may be understood — 
 as it is meant. I have, during my brief sojourn 
 here, taken a great liking to an innocent young 
 girl. Her name is Brandini." 
 
 " Ah, Amanda ! " 
 
 " She is your cousin ? " 
 
 " Yes, she is." 
 
 " Do you stand in any other relation to her? 
 Do you intend to marry her ? " 
 
 « No — but " — 
 
 *' I have no other motive in questioning you 
 about this than that of a gentleman. You need 
 not reply, if you object." 
 
 " Certainly not ! I repeat it with pleasure : 
 I do not intend to marry Amanda ; she is very 
 poor." 
 
 " Very well. Why, then, do you go as you 
 do to the house ? Why do you call forth senti-
 
 92 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 ments in her to which you have no thought of 
 responding, and which may so easily be misin- 
 terpreted ? " 
 
 " Your last remark seems to me to imply an 
 accusation." 
 
 " To be sure. You are knovm to be a reck- 
 less libertine." 
 
 " Signore ! " and the young lieutenant rose 
 to his feet. 
 
 At once the tall captain did the same. 
 
 " I, Giuseppe Mansana, say this, and am at 
 your service." 
 
 But little Luigi Borghi had no fancy to be 
 slain at such an early and interesting age by 
 the first fencer in the army. And so he was 
 silent, and his eyes sought the ground. 
 
 " Either you will promise me never to enter 
 her house again, never to seek her society, 
 or you will have to answer for your conduct to 
 me. I have resolved to settle this before I 
 leave. Why do you hesitate ? " 
 
 " Because, as an officer, I cannot be known 
 to have been compelled " — 
 
 " To do a good deed ? You may thank your 
 God if you can be ! Perhaps I have presented 
 the subject in the wrong way. I should un- 
 doubtedly have said to you : ' Do what I ask 
 of you, and you shall be my friend, and may
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 93 
 
 count on me in whatever straits you may 
 come ! ' " 
 
 " I would gladly have for my friend so great 
 an officer, and would be proud to be able to 
 count on Giuseppe Mansana's generous aid." 
 
 " Very well. Then you promise what I 
 ask?" 
 
 " I promise ! " 
 
 " Thank you ! Your hand ! " 
 
 " With all my heart ! " 
 
 " Farewell ! " 
 
 " Farewell ! " 
 
 Two hours later Mansana went down to the 
 toledo of the little town. There, outside of a 
 shop, stood Amanda and Luigi, engaged in a 
 conversation which seemed to be highly enter- 
 taining to both, for they were laughing heart- 
 ily. The father was inside of the shop, paying 
 for some purchases. None of them saw Man- 
 sana until he was in their midst. His pale, sal- 
 low face sufficed to send Amanda flying in ter- 
 ror to her father ; but the still morp appalled 
 lieutenant remained where he was and said, 
 retreating a step, — 
 
 " I assure you, sign ore, I was requested to 
 come here ! And we — we were not laughing 
 at you." 
 
 At that moment a shriek from Amanda rang
 
 94 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 out of the shop. It was caused by Giuseppe 
 Mansana's appearance, as he, without a word, 
 without a gesture, made a stride forward, just 
 one, toward her little cousin. There was a 
 leopard's seven-ells leap in this stride ; the 
 next moment Luigi might be a dead man. 
 
 But every one in the shop and on the street 
 turned to the young girl who had uttered the 
 shriek, and who stood nestled up to her father. 
 From her the eyes of the by-standers wandered 
 in all directions. There was nothing to be 
 seen. Two officers stood quietly outside in the 
 street conversing together. What was the mat- 
 ter? Those who were outside came into the 
 shop, and all gathered about Amanda. What 
 was it ? But she, exposed, for the first time in 
 her life, to the gaze and questions of the multi- 
 tude, stood aghast, and her father, who had 
 failed to obtain an answer, became bewildered. 
 Then Mansana parted asunder the group about 
 her, and with a silent air of command offered 
 her his arm ; she hastened to accept it and 
 walked away with him ; her father followed. 
 
 WhMi they were out of ear-shot, Mansana 
 said, — 
 
 " It is my duty to tell you that your kins- 
 man. Lieutenant Borghi, is a profligate wretch, 
 who deserves and shall receive chastisement."
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 95 
 
 How alarmed Amanda was again : first to 
 hear that Luigi was a profligate wretch, al- 
 though she did not exactly know what that 
 meant, and next that Luigi was to receive chas- 
 tisement, although she knew not why. She 
 gazed this time with wide-open eyes into Man- 
 sana's face ; but looked none the wiser. Her 
 lips, too, parted. A great curiosity began to 
 break through her fear ; Mansana detected it, 
 — and angry as he had just been he now could 
 not but smile at such intensely stupid inno- 
 cence, and its ludicrous and bewitching expres- 
 sion. And thus suddenly thrown into a good- 
 humor again, he even observed at last what a 
 comical appearance the father presented. The 
 old gentleman was like a school-boy who has 
 been listening to ghost stories in the dark. In 
 order to show Mansana how thoroughly he un- 
 derstood all that was horrible, he manifested a 
 profound gratitude and begged him to accom- 
 pany them home. 
 
 This Mansana did ; and Amanda, who hoped 
 bhe might learn something more, clung to him 
 in the most deferential and insinuating manner. 
 He began by conjecturing her purpose, and it 
 amused him ; but ended by forgetting this and 
 feeling jubilant delight over the melodious mur- 
 mur of her voice, over each roguish word, and
 
 96 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 at the thought that her sweet lips, about which 
 the dimples came and went, her half-closed eyes, 
 in their enigmatical play, and her harmonious 
 nature, for one moment were wholly conse- 
 crated to him, and that this fresh, youthful 
 form, in all the fullness of its beauty, lived and 
 breathed in his proximity. 
 
 The next morning their last interview was to 
 take place ; but no, it was not permitted to be 
 the last ; he must come to them the next after- 
 noon, for he was not to leave until evening. 
 He went from them in an ecstasy of delight. 
 
 The soothing influence she exercised over 
 him, manifested itself also by impelling him to 
 present himself that same afternoon in the un- 
 fortunate Luigi's room and asking his pardon. 
 He was not to blame for meeting his cousin in 
 the street and being accosted by her. 
 
 " And if you were laughing at me " — 
 
 " But we were not, indeed ! " protested the 
 frightened " Amorin." 
 
 " You surely had a right. My zeal was 
 rather absurd. I am aware of it now. Here is 
 my hand ! " 
 
 This was hastily seized, a few disconnected 
 words were spoken, and Mansana left — in un- 
 iisputed supremacy, as he had come. 
 
 The little lieutenant, who had been feeling
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 97 
 
 like one who had death for his companion, was 
 seized with a dizzy joy. He sprang up in the 
 air and burst into the loudest peals of laughter. 
 Mansana heard this laughter, and paused on the 
 stairs. Luigi shuddered at his imprudence, and 
 when there came once more a knock at the 
 door he was too terrified to say, " Come in ! " 
 But the door was opened, nevertheless. 
 
 " Was that you who were laughing ? " in- 
 quired Mansana. 
 
 " No, on my honor ! " replied the " Amorin," 
 gesticulating with both hands. Mansana stood 
 for a while contemplating him. 
 
 But when he was gone again, the exultation 
 returned. Luigi could not help it. And as he 
 dared neither scream nor dance, he must com- 
 municate it to some one. This he did at the 
 officers' caf^ among his former classmates. It 
 created great merriment. Over the wine-cup 
 witticisms fell like hail upon the unlucky cap- 
 tain, who on the eve of his wedding with a 
 princess created a scandal by falling in love 
 with a little boarding-school miss. 
 
 Major Sardi, Mansana's friend, was witness 
 to this. 
 
 The next morning Mansana had his last in- 
 terview on the heights. It began much earlier 
 than usual, and ended mu:h later, aud not until 
 T
 
 98 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 the door of father and daughter's house was 
 reached. In the afternoon he was to call ac- 
 cording to promise to take leave. Half ro- 
 guishly, half languishingly, exactly as she felt 
 about it, Amanda discussed the wedding, for 
 to a well brought-up Italian girl marriage is 
 the portal that leads to all earthly bliss, that is 
 to the state in which uncertainty, restraint, and 
 annoyances cease, and in which perpetual peace, 
 new dresses, carriage drives, and evenings at 
 the opera begin I Her sweet babble was but 
 the song of his own longings ; her dainty little 
 person invested this song with increased fullness, 
 so that the realization of his approaching hap- 
 piness impelled him to tell the young girl of the 
 part she had had in it. Little Amanda shed tears 
 at this, — a young girl's tears are so ready to 
 flow when anything kind is said about her. And 
 then she could not help telling him how much 
 confidence she felt in him. She mentioned this 
 because she had always been a trifle uneasy in 
 his presence ; but she did not say so. Since, 
 therefore, it was not as true as she would her- 
 self have wished, she added a smile. This was 
 to strengthen her words. But where the smile 
 shone the atmosphere was still full of tears, 
 and it formed there (I mean within Mansana'3 
 own breast) an inconceivably beautiful rain-
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 99 
 
 bow. He took her round little hand in both 
 of his : that was his farewell. He said some- 
 thing, moreover, but knew not what himself ; 
 she grew rosy red. He saw her brow, arms, 
 and head above him on the stairs, and again 
 from the balcony. He heard floating out over 
 the square a melodious " Farewell ! " and still 
 another — and then he turned into a side 
 street. 
 
 He had not noticed the approach of Sardi, 
 had not seen that the latter was making di- 
 rectly for him, and he was roused in bewilder- 
 ment by a slap on the shouder. 
 
 "Is it really true ? " laughed Sardi. " Are 
 you in love with the little one up yonder ? — 
 you actually look so ! " 
 
 Mansana's face became copper-colored, his 
 eyes had a fixed stare, his breath came and 
 went hastily. 
 
 " What is that you say ? " asked he. " How 
 do you know " — He paused. He certainly 
 would not himself tell what he first wanted to 
 hear, whether any one could have — whether 
 Luigi had — " What is that you say ? " he re- 
 peated. 
 
 " Upon my soul ! You are not getting em- 
 barrassed ; are you ? " 
 
 " What is that you say ? " reiterated Man-
 
 100 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 Sana, redder than before, knitting his brow, and 
 laying one hand, not very gently, on the major's 
 shoulder. 
 
 This offended Sardi. Mansana's violence, 
 indeed, came upon him so unexpectedly that he 
 had no time for reflection ; but in self-defense, 
 and in order to annoy the friend who had given 
 way to so unjust an outburst of wrath, he re- 
 peated to Mansana what people already said, and 
 how he had been made sport of at the ofl&cers' 
 caf^. 
 
 Mansana's wrath knew no bounds. He swore 
 that if Sardi did not forthwith state who had 
 dared such a thing, he himself must give satis- 
 faction for it. The two friends were actually 
 on the verge of a challenge. But Sardi finally 
 so far regained his self-possession that he was 
 able to represent to the other what an unpleas- 
 ant noise it would create if Mansana should 
 fight with him or any one else about his correct 
 relations with Amanda Brandini, and that, 
 too, on the eve of his departure for his wed- 
 ding with Princess Leaney. The best answer 
 would certainly be to leave and celebrate his 
 nuptials. Hereupon a fresh ebullition of wrath 
 from Mansana. He was able to attend to his 
 own a£Eairs and defend his own honor. Out 
 with the names ! Sardi could find no reason for
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 101 
 
 concealing these, and gave them one by one, 
 adding that if it would gratify him to kill all 
 these young lads, he might if he chose ! Man- 
 sana wanted to go forthwith to the ofl&cers' caf^, 
 as though they were all still there. Sardi suc- 
 ceeded in convincing him of the folly of this ; 
 then he insisted upon at least seeking Borghi 
 without delay. Now Sardi expressed a willing 
 ness to present a challenge to Borghi ; " but," 
 said he, " on what grounds should he be chal- 
 lenged." 
 
 " For what he has said I " shrieked the other. 
 
 " Why, what has he said? That you are in 
 love with Amanda Brandini? And are you 
 not ? " 
 
 Had Mansana set forth without meeting 
 Sardi, he would have been married a few days 
 later to Princess Leaney. Now, on the con- 
 trary, this was what took place : — 
 
 Mansana : " Do you presume to say that 1 
 love Amanda ? " 
 
 Sardi : " I merely ask. But if you do not 
 love her, how the deuce does it concern you if 
 the whelp does say so, or if he loves her him- 
 self — or leads her astray '^ " 
 
 " You are a brutal scoundrel to speak so ! " 
 
 " Pray, what are i/ou who attack a young 
 relative merely because he jokes with her " —
 
 102 CAPTAIN MANS ANA. 
 
 *' Jokes with her I " 
 
 Mansana clinched his fists and pressed his 
 lips together. 
 
 *' Who will look after them when you are 
 gone?" Sardi hastened to remark. 
 
 " I am not going away ! " shrieked Mansana. 
 
 " Not going away ! Have you lost your 
 senses ? " 
 
 " I am not going away ! " repeated Mansana, 
 with hands and arms uplifted, as though he 
 were taking a solemn oath. 
 
 Sardi was alarmed. 
 
 " Then you do love her, after all," he whis- 
 pered. 
 
 Mansana gave way completely ! Deep groans 
 were heai'd ; his powerful frame was shaken by 
 them. Sardi feared a stroke of apoplexy. Fi- 
 nally Mansana seemed, as it were, to rise su- 
 perior to hiinsolf, his countenance shone, and 
 slowly, perfectly self-possessed, he said, — 
 
 "I love her!" and then turning to Sardi: 
 " I shall not leave ! " 
 
 And from this moment he was like a tempest : 
 he turned, looked above and beyond him, and 
 itormily sped onward. 
 
 " Where are you going ? " asked Sardi, hasten 
 ng after him. 
 
 « To Borghi."
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 103 
 
 " But I thought I was to go to him ! " 
 
 " Then go ! " 
 
 " But where are you going ? " 
 
 " To Borghi ! " And pausing, he added, in 
 an ecstasy, — 
 
 " I love her. Any one who wants to take 
 her from me shall die! " 
 
 He was about to proceed on his way. 
 
 "But does she love you?" shrieked Sardi, 
 forgetting that they stood in the street. 
 
 Mansana stretched forth his sinewy hands 
 and said in a hollow voice, — 
 
 '* She shall love we." 
 
 Sardi was frightened. 
 
 " Giuseppe, you are mad ! " said he. " The 
 high pitch to which you have been worked up 
 was more than you could bear. Now it has 
 only assumed new force and centred in a new 
 object. You are not yourself ! — Giuseppe — 
 do not run away from me ! Can you not see 
 that the people on the street are noticing 
 
 you ? " 
 
 Then Mansana stood still. 
 
 *'Do you know why I became ill, Cornelio? 
 Because I paid attention to the people on the 
 street? I was forced to keep silent, to hear, 
 to be trampled on ! That w^as what made me 
 ill." He advanced a step nearer to Sardi.
 
 104 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 " Now I will shriek it aloud to the whole 
 world : I love her ! " 
 
 He actually did shriek aloud, then turned and 
 walked on with a proud bearing. Sardi fol 
 lowed and took him by the arm. He guided 
 him into a still narrower street, but Mansana 
 seemed wholly unconscious of it. He merely 
 walked on, talking in a loud voice, and gestic- 
 ulating. 
 
 " What would it be for me to become Prin- 
 cess Leaney's husband," said he, " and to be the 
 manager of her ladyship's property and the 
 servant of her ladyship's caprices ? " 
 
 And here he gave loose reins to his deeply 
 wounded self-love. 
 
 " Now for the first time I admit to myself 
 the whole truth : it would have been an un- 
 worthy life for Giuseppe Mansana." 
 
 Sardi thought that if the reticent and at 
 least outwardly modest Giuseppe Mansana could 
 suddenly begin thus to shout and boast, any 
 other inconceivable thing might occur ; and with 
 a perseverance and ingenuity that did him honor 
 he endeavored to persuade his friend to take a 
 Bhort trip, if only for a couple of days, in order 
 to gain light on the emotions and ciroumstancea 
 that were submerging him. But he might aa 
 well have talked at a hurricane.
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 105 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 That same evening Amanda, in the greatest 
 secrecy, received a letter, which made her ex- 
 ceedingly curious. She struck a light and read 
 it. It was from Luigi ! — the first she had ever 
 received from him. It read thus : — 
 
 Amanda, — A madman is in pursuit of me 
 and wants to kill me. An hour ago I was 
 obliged to give him a solemn promise — indeed, 
 I have signed my name to it — to relinquish all 
 claims on you forever, and not even to speak 
 to you ! This was cowardice, I well know. I 
 despise myself, as you must despise me. 
 
 But the way this came about was that not 
 until I had given my word did I know that I 
 loved you. Perhaps I did not do so before. 
 But now I love you beyond all bounds, and 
 never in the world has there been a more un- 
 happy mortal than I am. 
 
 I cannot conceive of the possibility of its be- 
 ing all over ! It cannot be so forever. It de- 
 pends, though, altogether on yourself, Amanda, 
 if you do not despise me too greatly. For if 
 you love me the madman will accomplish noth- 
 ing, and so some day things must change again.
 
 106 CAPTAIN MANS ANA. 
 
 I am like a man in prison. I cannot stir. 
 But this I know, that if you do not help me out 
 again, I shall die. 
 
 Amanda ! A word, a sign ! It is too dan- 
 gerous to write. I know not how I shall man- 
 age to get this to you. Do not you try to send 
 a letter to me. He may be on the scent. But 
 to-morrow at the festival ! Be there, near the 
 band, stay there until I have found you. Then 
 Bpeak only with your eyes ! If they are friendly, 
 I shall know all. Ah, Amanda, the rest will come 
 of itself when once you are mine ! Amanda, 
 Your devoted and unhappy cousin, 
 
 LuiGl. 
 
 The moment Amanda had read this letter 
 she knew that she loved Luigi. Never before 
 had she looked into this matter. But now she 
 loved him beyond measure, of this she was 
 sure. 
 
 There must be some misunderstanding about 
 what Mansana had said concerning him, and 
 the promise Luigi had made of course did not 
 amount to anything. Girls do not accept such 
 things very literally when they seem improb- 
 able to them. Moreover, Mansana had now 
 gone away. 
 
 And so, the next day, the festival day, a
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 107 
 
 »ovely autumn day, she was astir betimes in the 
 morning ; the band had passed at sunrise and 
 the cannons had sent forth their thundering 
 peals. The church, decorated within and with- 
 out, was crowded, and little Amanda might be 
 seen at her father's side, among the worshipers, 
 dressed in her choicest finery. She prayed for 
 Luigi. When she had finished she practiced 
 smiling. She was resolved to offer Luigi con- 
 solation through the most friendly look she 
 could command. When the procession was 
 over and noon had passed, she hastened to the 
 appointed spot ; the band was already playing 
 on the market-place. She so urged her old 
 father on that they were among the first grown 
 people who arrived, but for that reason among 
 those who were most wedged in before an hour 
 had elapsed. She looked at her father's per- 
 spiring face and thought of her own and what 
 a horrid appearance it would present to Luigi. 
 She must get out of the crowd, let it cost what it 
 might ; and yet the price should not be a rose 
 or a knot of ribbon, or even the least exertion, 
 for that would cause her to grow redder than 
 fihe now was. She therefore made but little 
 progress. 
 
 Yet, alas ! she grew hotter and hotter. She 
 heard the big drum and a couple of bass horns,
 
 108 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 through the thunder of thousands of voices and 
 laughter in which she was submerged ; she saw 
 the tower on the municipal building, and the 
 clapper which extended below the bell, and 
 which was the last object she beheld above the 
 human billows that closed about her. Her fa- 
 ther's pitiable face told her how red and odious 
 she must appear — and the little one began to 
 weep. 
 
 But Luigi, too, had been among the first to 
 reach the band ; and as neither the town nor 
 the square in front of the municipal building 
 were large, the two who were seeking each 
 other amid the thronging multitude could not 
 well avoid at last standing face to face. He saw 
 her, rosy with blushes, smiling through her 
 tears. He took her blushes for those of joy, 
 her tears for those of sympathy, and her smile 
 for what it was intended. The father, in his 
 anxiety and distress, hailed Luigi as an angel 
 of deliverance and cried, — 
 
 " Help us, Luigi." 
 
 And Luigi promptly set to work to do as he 
 was bid. The task was no easy one ; indeed 
 both Amanda and her father were several times 
 in actual danger, and Luigi felt himself a hero. 
 With elbows and back he defended them, and 
 never once removing his eyes from Amanda, he
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 109 
 
 drank deeply from her long, timid gaze. He did 
 not speak ; he did not break his oath ! This, 
 too, gave him a proud consciousness ; there 
 must be an air of nobility about him, and he 
 felt from the reflection in Amanda's eyes that 
 he really did appear noble. 
 
 But no earthly happiness is of long duration. 
 Giuseppe Mansana had about a quarter of an 
 hour previous to this descried Luigi in the 
 crowd, and with the instinct that jealousy pos- 
 sesses, had watched him from afar, an easy mat- 
 ter for one of Mansana's height, Luigi, in his 
 restless search, had constantly worked his way 
 forward, and had thus no idea of the danger 
 close at hand; and now he was so engrossed 
 with his task of deliverance, or, in other words, 
 in reflecting his noble image in Amanda's eyes, 
 that he perceived nothing until Mansana's hy- 
 ena face was directly opposite his, and he felt 
 his scorching breath on his cheeks. 
 
 Amanda gave one of her well-known screams, 
 her father became frightfully stupid, and Luigi 
 disappeared. 
 
 At the same moment, Amanda had drawn 
 one arm through Mansana's and placed the 
 warm, gloved hand of the other on his ; two 
 bewitching, half-closed eyes, brimming over 
 with roguishness, fear, and entreaty, looked up
 
 110 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 into his face. They were just out of the throng, 
 it was possible to understand what was said, 
 and Mansana heard from a voice, which might 
 ring the angels into heaven, — 
 
 " Papa and I have been in great danger. It 
 was so nice that we got help ! " and he felt the 
 pressure of her hand. 
 
 Now Mansana had seen those same eyes 
 dwelling on Luigi's face, and there rushed 
 through his mind a thouglit which later in life 
 he took up again a thousand times but now lost 
 the moment it came, and this thought was, 
 "I am certainly entangled in a stupid, mean- 
 ingless affair." 
 
 The little prattler by his side continued, — 
 
 " Poor Luigi met us just at our extremity. 
 Papa begged him to help us, and he did so 
 without speaking a word. We did not even 
 get to thank him." And directly after : " It is 
 really delightful that you have not left yet. 
 Now you must go home with us that we may 
 have a good talk I We had such a nice one the 
 last time." 
 
 And her full, young bosom fluttered beneath 
 its silken covering, her round wrist quivered 
 above her glove, the tips of her little feet 
 moved restlessly below her dress ; her rosy lips 
 bubbled over with chatter and laughter, and
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. Ill 
 
 those two eyes of hers beamed in half-concealed 
 familiarity, — and Mansana was borne along 
 with them. 
 
 He did not mention Luigi's name ; it re- 
 mained like a daggei--point in his heart ; it en- 
 tered the deeper the more charming she be- 
 came. This struggle between pain and love 
 made him absolutely silent. But all the busier 
 were her sweet lips, while she gave him a seat 
 and brought forward fruits, which she herself 
 peeled and handed to him. She went into a 
 little ecstasy of delight that their meetings on 
 the heights were not yet interrupted ; indeed, 
 she proposed a little excursion farther up the 
 slope, which they must make the next morn- 
 ing ; she would bring breakfast along. Still 
 he had only succeeded in uttering a few mono- 
 syllables. He could not break in upon this in- 
 nocent idyl with his passion ; and yet the strug- 
 gle within was so terrible that he could bear it 
 no longer, and was compelled to leave. 
 
 No sooner was he down the steps and the last 
 greeting had been sent from the balcony, than 
 the little charmer, who had been so unwearied 
 in her flattering attentions, closed tightly the 
 balcony door and flung herself sobbing on her 
 knees before her father. He was not in the 
 teast surprised. He had the same fear as she ;
 
 112 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 Mansana's last look as he left, as well as his 
 whole presence, had filled the room with such 
 a fateful atmosphere, that if in the next mo- 
 ment they had all exploded it would not in the 
 least have surprised him. And when, through 
 her tears, she whispered, " Father, we must 
 leave here ! " he merely replied, " Yes, my 
 child, of course we must ! " 
 
 It was essential to depart secretly, and there- 
 fore, if possible, that very night. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Giuseppe Mansana had been at Borghi's 
 room and had not found him ; at the officers' 
 caf^ and not found him ; later, about amongst 
 the festal throng, but had met him nowhere. 
 On the other hand, he had encountered many 
 officers, and civilians, too, in company with 
 them, who seemed to him to relapse into si- 
 lence when they saw him, and to talk in low 
 tones together as he passed them. 
 
 Whatever manner of game it might be that 
 he was engaged in, lose he must not. His honor 
 forbade it.
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANa 113 
 
 Exhausted in body and soul, lie sat late in the 
 evening on the watch in front of the Ciii6, 
 facing the Brandini apartment. There was a 
 light in Amanda's window. She was packing 
 up the few articles she and her father were to 
 take with them, for in order to give their de- 
 parture the appearance of a short trip they 
 were to leave most of their things behind. 
 
 But Mansana thought : this light is perhaps 
 a signal. And sure enough, when Amanda was 
 weary from excitement and work, she went out 
 on the balcony to take a few breaths of fresh 
 air ; she could be seen so plainly by the light 
 behind her ; she looked down along the street. 
 Was she expecting any one from that direc- 
 tion ? Yes, indeed, steps were heard there 
 They came nearer. A man appeared. He wen^. 
 in the line of the house toward Amanda's bal- 
 cony ; now he walked past a lantern ; Mansana 
 saw an officer's cap and a beardless face ; he 
 saw Amanda bow lower toward the street. A 
 young girl who loves, actually thinks she sees 
 the beloved object in every place, at all times 
 and especially one whom she loves in fear 
 The officer walked more slowly when he de- 
 scried her ; under the balcony he paused and 
 looked up. Amanda hastened into the house 
 wad closed the door ; the officer walked on. 
 
 8
 
 114 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 Had they agreed on a trysting-place ? Man- 
 Bana started full run across the square ; but 
 the officer had already turned the corner, and 
 when Mansana reached it the officer was no 
 longer in the street. Into which house had he 
 disappeared ? It would not do to rouse the 
 whole street to find out ; he must give up the 
 search. 
 
 By so trifling an incident as that of a young 
 officer, who dwelt in the neighborhood, passing 
 beneath a balcony on which a young damsel 
 was standing alone, — by so trifling an occur- 
 rence as this, Mansana's destiny was fulfilled. 
 
 He went to bed that night, not to sleep, but 
 to vow to himself over and over again, in the 
 anguish of his heart, that the next morning she 
 should be his, or he would not live. 
 
 But the next morning she was not on the 
 heights. He waited an hour and still no one 
 came. Then he went to her house. Before 
 the door to the lodgings of the Brandinis stood 
 an old woman, with their breakfast and a note. 
 As Mansana was about to seize the knocker, 
 the old woman said, " There is no one at home 
 here, as it seems. But read this note that was 
 hanging on the knocker." Mansana took it. 
 " Gone away. More later. B." He let the 
 note fall and strode away. The old woman
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 115 
 
 called after him to ask what was in the note. 
 But he made no reply. 
 
 Prmcess Leaney, on reaching Ancona the 
 next day and not meeting Mansana on the 
 platform, experienced great anxiety ; she knew 
 not why. She went herself to the telegraph 
 office and sent him hearty greetings, which 
 plainly expressed her fear. She then hastened 
 home and waited ; her alarm grew with every 
 hour. Finally the telegram was returned 
 with the money that had been paid for the 
 reply message. Captain Mansana had left the 
 town. 
 
 Terror overpowered her. The self-reproaches 
 in which she had daily lived became mountains ; 
 they shut out every prospect. She must go 
 where he was, find him, talk with him, tend 
 him ; she suspected the worst. Evening found 
 her at the railway station, accompanied by a 
 single servant. 
 
 In the dawn of the morning the next day she 
 was walking back and forth at the junction 
 with the road from the west. There were not 
 many travelers at the station, and those who 
 were there she did not see. All the more did 
 they look at her as she swept past them, back 
 smd forth, wrapped in a white fur cloak which
 
 116 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 she had so thrown over her shoulders that 
 the arms hung loose, and with a fur cap on 
 her head, beneath which her floating hair and 
 veil had become entangled. The large eyes 
 and the whole face evinced emotion and weari- 
 ness. In her restless walk she often passed by 
 a tall lady, plainly clad, who stood gazing in- 
 tently at the luggage- van, where several men 
 were busied. Another time when the princess 
 passed, there appeared an officer who addressed 
 the lady, and to a question from the luggage- 
 van answered, — 
 
 " Mansana." 
 
 The princess rushed toward him. 
 
 " Mansana ? " cried she. 
 
 " Princess Leaney ? " whispered the officer in 
 astonishment, as he bowed to her. 
 
 " Major Sardi ! " she said, in reply, adding, 
 hastily : " Mansana 1 Did you mention Man- 
 sana ? " 
 
 " Yes, this is his mother." 
 
 As he introduced them, the mother drew her 
 veil aside, and there was such power in her face 
 to arouse the confidence of the princess that 
 the latter threw herself into her arms as into a 
 sure refuge from all sorrowing thoughts, and 
 then she burst into passionate tears. Man- 
 sana's mother silently embraced her, but stood
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 117 
 
 as one who was waiting. She patted her affec 
 tionately but said nothing. 
 
 When Theresa could command words she 
 asked, — 
 
 "Where is he?" 
 
 " None of us know," replied the mother, 
 calmly. 
 
 " But we hope to know soon," added Sardi. 
 
 The princess sprang up, white as chalk, star- 
 ing at them both. 
 
 " What has happened ? " cried she. 
 
 The thoughtful mother, who had braved so 
 many storms, said quietly, — 
 
 " We have doubtless the same journey be- 
 fore us. Let us take a compartment to ourselves, 
 and then we can talk matters over and hold 
 counsel together." 
 
 This was done. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The Brandini family had gone to the home 
 of Nina Borghi, Brandini's sister and Luigi's 
 mother. It so chanced that on the same night 
 train by which the Brandinis fled, the hero
 
 118 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 Luigi also took flight. They discovered one an 
 other at a station late the next morning, as 
 Luigi was about to leave the train. He was so 
 jilarmed that he would have pushed past them 
 without speaking ; but old Brandini held fast 
 to him and poured into his ear his tale of woe. 
 Luigi merely said, — 
 
 " Go to mother," and hastened away. 
 
 He went, however, to the telegraph office 
 immediately on reaching his garrison, and, in a 
 very excited frame of mind, telegraphed to his 
 mother announcing her brother's approach. 
 The telegram was couched in such anxious 
 words that the lady to whom it was addressed, 
 and who lived alone outside of Castellamare, 
 near Naples, became much alarmed. She was 
 not less so when her brother and his daughter 
 arrived and told her what threatened both them 
 and her son. 
 
 Captain Mansana had conjectured that the 
 Brandinis had gone south, for there was no 
 night train on any but the southern route. He 
 followed. But after vainly seeking during two 
 days a starting-point for further investigations, 
 he turned about and directed his course toward 
 ihe town where Luigi Borghi was stationed. 
 He must know where the two were, and this 
 knowledge he should impart to him or take the
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 119 
 
 consequences I As Mansana was aware that 
 he was well known in the town, he went to 
 work with great caution, in order that Luigi 
 might have no warning. Consequently he was 
 obliged to pass two days in the town before he 
 met him. This occurred on the street, when 
 Mansana had been searching for him in one of 
 the little cafes of the townspeople. To his as- 
 tonishment, Luigi was not frightened, as he had 
 expected to find him. And to his still greater 
 astonishment, Luigi unhesitatingly told where 
 the Brandini family were. Mansana became 
 suspicious. He called Luigi's attention to what 
 it would cost to speak anything but the truth, 
 but the little officer did not even blink as he 
 swore that what he said was true. 
 
 Further settlement with the lieutenant must 
 be postponed. That same day Mansana took 
 the train south. 
 
 What did he want ? Uncompromisingly the 
 same : she should be his ! This was why Luigi 
 had been so leniently treated. Since Amanda's 
 warily undertaken flight, there was a tempest 
 raging within Mansana's soul ; no one should 
 venture to treat him thus unpunished. He did 
 not love her ; no, he hated her, and that was 
 why she should he his ! If not ! — This brief 
 train of thought kept revolving round and round
 
 120 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 in his mind. The air was filled with confused 
 pictures of his comrades standing in groups 
 laughing at him. He certainly had been made 
 a fool of by a little girl just out of a convent, 
 and a little lieutenant just out of school ! 
 
 How it had come so far that this conflict with 
 two insignificant children should be the end of 
 his proud career, he could not make clear to 
 himself. 
 
 Princess Leaney's image — which during hia 
 first excitement rarely rose up before him and 
 was angrily thrust aside when it did appear — 
 kept growing clearer and clearer the more ex- 
 hausted and ashamed he became. She was 
 the goal of the life for which he was destined, 
 BO lofty was his aim ! And he thought no 
 longer of her rank, but of the glowing course of 
 her thoughts, of the beautj'^ of her presence, ex- 
 alted by the admiration of all mortals. 
 
 Amanda's image sank away at the same time. 
 He was not sure but that she was round-shoul- 
 dered. He was actually able to speculate upon 
 this. 
 
 People who have made us ridiculous in our 
 own eyes and those of others are not very apt 
 to be the gainers thereby. And when Man- 
 sana had reached the point where he could dis- 
 cover that Amanda's figure was awkward, hei
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA 121 
 
 face and conversation insignificant, her voice 
 drawling, her hair absurdly arranged, her flat- 
 tery much too soft and insinuating, he asked 
 himself if it would not be the most ludicrous 
 thing in the world to compel such a person to 
 become Signora Mansana. No, there was some- 
 thing that would be still more absurd, and that 
 was to kill himself for her sake. 
 
 What should he do, then ? Gk) back to the 
 princess ? That path was barred — barred by 
 his pride a hundred thousand times I Past 
 Amanda and onward, to the Spanish civil war, 
 for instance ? An adventurer's career, hollow, 
 empty I Just as well end his life at home. 
 
 Turn back and let all be as before? The 
 princess lost, the admiration of his comrades 
 lost, faith in himself lost ! The only way in 
 which he could return was at her side, that 
 cursed little woman ! With her by the hand he 
 could appear as victor, and if he must pay for 
 this prize with an unhappy life, so it must be. 
 His honor would then be saved, and no one 
 should be allowed to read his soul. 
 
 There would be actual glory in having re- 
 jected a wealthy princess, and captured the 
 daughter of a poor pensioned officer, in a con- 
 ^ct even with herself I But the moment he 
 reached this conclusion, hie soul revolted at all
 
 122 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 the deception which such an honor as this must 
 contain. He sprang up from his seat in the 
 compartment, but sat down again ; — there were 
 several passengers within. 
 
 The train proceeded onward toward his goal. 
 What a goal ! Ruin was inevitable, his life 
 must surely be sacrificed to honor ; and this 
 whether honor was attained or no. 
 
 The merciful power of sleep intervened. 
 He dreamed of his mother. Her large, noble 
 eyes hung over him like a heaven. He wept 
 and was awakened. There was an old man 
 in the compartment who was deeply affected 
 by his tears. Just then the train stopped. 
 They were in the vicinity of Naples ; Mansana 
 got out. The morning was glorious. The clear 
 sky, bordered by the faint outlines of the chain 
 of hills, served as a reminder and a warning ; 
 he shivered in the chill morning air and re- 
 turned to the smoke of the locomotive which 
 was just starting, to the rumbling and din of 
 the train as it stormed onward, and to his own 
 stinging thoughts. 
 
 Farther on, as they passed along the sea- 
 shore, he would have given much if the train 
 had deviated from its course and slowly and 
 Bmoothly glided out into the trackless watera 
 What gentle deliverance in such a death I
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 123 
 
 He hid himself in his corner when the train 
 stopped at Naples ; in the vast human throng 
 about the station there might be some one who 
 knew him. The day became more and more 
 glorious while the train glided through the 
 coast towns along the sea ; the sun was mild as 
 on a summer morning, and its rays in the hazy 
 sea atmosphere cast a tinge over mountain, sea, 
 and the entire landscape. When he got out of 
 the compartment and was driving toward his 
 destination, and still more after he had dis- 
 missed the carriage and was climbing the steep 
 cliffs, with the sea at his feet and the grand 
 view over the gulf, bordered with islands that 
 looked like shapeless sea-monsters on guard, 
 and with mountains under the dominion of 
 Vesuvius and towns gleaming white beneath 
 a slow smoke, then he felt a sense of life — not 
 his own life which was but a chase after honor, 
 a struggle, he knew not himself for what, now 
 that this struggle had ended in absolutely 
 nothing — no, life as it was meant to be be- 
 neath God's high arching heavens, in the splen- 
 dor of His glory which overspread all nature 
 and thus extended beyond the goal which life 
 usually marks out. 
 
 He approached the last hill, on which the 
 house he was seeking was situated. Soon he
 
 l24 CAPTAIN MANS ANA. 
 
 saw the liouse, which stood beyond the summit 
 of the hill, surrounded by a high, sharp-pointed 
 iron fence. Then his heart began to throb. 
 There could be no mistake ; he had, moreover, 
 taken the route accurately pointed out by the 
 coachman. 
 
 So this was the place I And before his 
 feelings were clear to his own mind, she ap- 
 peared on the balcony, she, Amanda, in her 
 bright morning gown, with a smile on her lips, 
 as if she had said or heard something amusing 
 as she stepped out. She saw him at once, ut- 
 tered her well-known scream and ran in. 
 
 As a weary huntsman when suddenly brought 
 face to face with his game regains all his elas- 
 ticity, so Mansana felt rising within him a wild 
 power, an untamed purpose, and before he 
 knew what he was about, he stood at the gate 
 of the iron fence and had bounded over it with- 
 out ringing the bell. Controlled by his own 
 lively emotions, all his warrior-like instincts 
 were aroused ; he turned at once and possessed 
 himself of the key which was on the inner 
 side of the gate. The door to the house was 
 half closed ; he pushed it open. He was ad- 
 mitted to a large, bright vestibule. Colored 
 glass cast its own peculiar play over some small 
 statues, a mosaic inlaid stone floor and vases,
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 125 
 
 filled with palms, fan-palms, and flowers. On 
 a pair of antique sofas were lying, on one a 
 straw hat with blue ribbons — was it hers ? — 
 on the other a parasol of a peculiar watered 
 material with a costly carved handle whose end 
 was studded with a large blue stone. He rec- 
 ognized it, and a wounded feeling followed the 
 recollections evoked, but he made no effort to 
 explain this. For now he rang the bell. He 
 must make haste. 
 
 No one came to open the door. He began to 
 ehiver, then tried to control himself, but failed. 
 He could not remain longer thus. If he could 
 not execute his purpose at once he was lost. 
 He rang once more. His will rose with the 
 act. Now it was necessary to make or break. 
 The door to the room opened, a bright light 
 flooded the vestibule ; the stained glass did not 
 permit him to see more than that the person 
 who was approaching and who closed the door 
 behind her was blue and tall. As soon as the 
 door was closed all became dark in the hall. 
 Who could it be ? Might not the house chance 
 to be filled with people? An actual terror 
 seized him at this thought, which had not oc- 
 curred to him a moment before. What mad 
 pranks, what complications, what interferences, 
 And inconvenient persons might not here assail
 
 126 . CAPTAIN MANS ANA. 
 
 him ! He was perhaps entering a bee-hive of 
 provoked anger and resistance ; it might prove 
 to be a fool's errand he was on ! No^ on such 
 an errand he would not go a second time ! And 
 he put on the whole armor of his will, and 
 made sure that his weapon was by him. Then 
 the large door was thrown wide open, and be- 
 fore him in the lofty doorway — 
 
 Yes, there in the lofty doorway stood The- 
 resa Leaney, clad in blue, and very pale. 
 
 And he ? He stood there motionless, his 
 self-possession gone. 
 
 The door was wide open ; they stood on 
 either side of the threshold. Silent as them- 
 selves was all within and without. At last she 
 extended her right hand. There ran a tremor 
 through his frame ; she stretched out both 
 arms ; he rushed into her ready embrace with 
 a ring like that of an instrument which has 
 been struck. And he took her up in his arms, 
 bore her out to the sofa, sat down with her on 
 his lap, plunged his head against her bosom, 
 and clasping her in a warm embrace, rose up 
 with her in his arms, sat down again and broke 
 into the most vehement flood of tears on her 
 bosom. Not a word of explanation 1 
 
 He finally put her down beside him on the 
 lofa and flung himself on his knees. He gazed
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 127 
 
 vith boundless admiration into her smiling face. 
 Now he was overcome, conquered ; never in the 
 world wovdd it have been well with Giuseppe 
 Mansana had it not been so. 
 
 And when, in burning gratitude, he raised 
 his eyes, purified by this feeling of humility, it 
 was not hers they met ; they fell on another 
 behind him — there stood his mother. 
 
 Both he and Theresa arose. Instinctively he 
 sought his mother's hands. When he held 
 them in his own he kissed them, and once more 
 falling on his knees guided them to his head. 
 "What had he not experienced since he had 
 so defiantly met her gaze beside his father's 
 bier. 
 
 Mansana never got beyond the entrance of 
 this house. The two ladies went back to say 
 farewell ; he preceded them down the hill. 
 Why precede them ? Because he wanted to 
 put a key quietly in the gate, and because he 
 wished, in all haste and shame, to fling a re- 
 volver into the sea. These things accomplished, 
 he sank down on a stone, overwhelmed with 
 fear, joy, gratitude, dismay, — all inextricably 
 blended. The tvo who followed him, accom- 
 panied by a servant with their luggage, saw 
 him sitting below the road, with his head in his
 
 128 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 hunds. They walked together to the railway 
 station. , 
 
 He did not need to hear much in order to un- 
 derstand how this meeting had come about. It 
 was Sardi who had summoned them ; they had 
 sought Luigi Borghi in hopes that he would be 
 informed about the Brandinis, and that Man- 
 sana would sooner or later find his way to them. 
 That was why Luigi had been so courageously 
 frank, because he knew the two ladies to be al- 
 ready at his mother's house. 
 
 Mansana had relapsed into silence. 
 
 The wise mother had a foreboding of danger, 
 and begged for rest at Naples, declaring that 
 she needed it herself. They went to a quiet 
 suburban hotel. Here, after much resistance, 
 Mansana's mother got him to bed. And when 
 at last he slept, it seemed as though he would 
 never again awaken. Almost the whole of the 
 next day passed. When he did awake he found 
 himself alone ; he was confused and became 
 alarmed, but a few trifles in the room reminded 
 him of his mother and Theresa ; he laid back 
 again and slept like a happy child. This time, 
 however, he did not sleep as long as before, for 
 hunger awoke him. He ate, but fell asleep 
 again. For several days and nights he slept, 
 almost without interruption. But when he rosa
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 129 
 
 from his couch he was very quiet. He retired 
 more and more into brooding silence. 
 
 This was just what his mother had antici- 
 pated. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 The end shall be told by a letter from The- 
 resa Leaney to Mansana's mother. It was 
 dated from the writer's estate in Hungary, not 
 long after the events last related. 
 
 Beloved Motbler, — At last you shall have 
 a connected account of everything since we 
 parted at Naples. If I repeat anything that I 
 have written before you must pardon me. 
 
 Well, then, after our marriage his illness gave 
 place to an eager, humble zeal in serving me, 
 which made me anxious, for it was so unlike 
 him. Upon the whole he was neither confid- 
 ing nor self-reliant, until after we had been in 
 the town where he was last stationed. He un- 
 derstood perfectly why you wished us to go 
 there first. Ah, how amiable he was there I 
 He began forthwith to run the gauntlet among 
 Uis comrades, I may say in the most dauntless 
 
 9
 
 130 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 manner. I can tell you, furthermore, about a 
 young wife who aided him. She had never 
 been happier or more elegant, you see, than 
 when she became the companion of her noble 
 husband in his humiliation ; every movement, 
 every expression of her face, every word, 
 seemed, as it were, freighted with " If / say 
 nothing, who then dare say a word ? " 
 
 I am, alas, still so much of a coquette that I 
 have a great desire to inform you how I was 
 dressed each of these three days. (I had sent 
 to Ancona for my maid and my wardrobe.) 
 But I will meekly hold my peace. 
 
 I am perfectly sure, though, that dearly as a 
 certain young wife was loved after those three 
 days' running the gauntlet in this mountain 
 town, not many women have been loved ; for 
 there is power in the temperament you yourself 
 have given from your own soul, you delightful 
 being. 
 
 Nor must I forget to sound the praises of 
 the man Sardi. For he is a man. He had done 
 Buch a good thing, in announcing that Man- 
 eana was ill, — which he truly was, — and that 
 you and I were his physicians. The good for- 
 tune of it all is that he who has won fame 
 among his comrades has also laid up in their 
 hearts treasures on which he may draw for a
 
 CAPTAIN UANSANA. 131 
 
 long time before they are exhausted. People 
 will think well of Giuseppe Mansana. He felt 
 this, the dear man, and it made him very hum- 
 ble ; for he was sorely oppressed by the thought 
 that he did not deserve it. 
 
 In Ancona everything went smoothly ; the 
 stubbornness of his nature was conquered. And 
 now he is all mine, — mine the strongest nature 
 in the world, purified and ennobled, — mine the 
 most considerate of masters, the most attentive 
 of servants, — mine the most manly lover that 
 ever Italian girl won. Pardon my strong ex- 
 pressions ; I know you do not like them, but 
 they must come. 
 
 At Bologna — aye, you see I fly — we were 
 walking about and chanced to pass the munic- 
 ipal building. There hang two marble tablets 
 bearing the names of those who fell in the 
 struggle for the town's freedom. Giuseppe's 
 arm trembled, and to this circumstance it was 
 due that we had a conversation than which 
 nothing could form a surer foundation for our 
 union. 
 
 You know, beloved mother, how my eyes 
 were opened during the time when I was griev- 
 ing over the wrong I had done Giuseppe through 
 my despicable caprices, which nearly cost him 
 his life and both of us our happiness. You
 
 182 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 know that my soul is daily racked with indig- 
 nation against those public affairs that breed 
 in us defiance, hatred, frenzied fanaticism, cul- 
 pable intolerance. Unwholesome, unnatural 
 public affairs poison a community and do more 
 harm than the most miserable open warfare ; 
 for there is no possibility of estimating how 
 much spiritual strength they consume, how 
 many hearts they bereave, how many homes 
 they lay waste ! I assure you, mother, that a 
 land which, for instance, has made an unjust 
 conquest, captured what belongs to others, 
 transforms a whole community into sharers of 
 its guilt, lowers the general moral standard, 
 sharpens the pen of the strategist, the crow-bar 
 of the burglar, the harsh words of the com- 
 mander — ah ! it drives the heart from its 
 rights in the family and in society I 
 
 There are some stupid verses that were writ- 
 ten about me by an enamored fool ; not one 
 word in them is true. But do you know, 
 dearest mother, I feel now that had I not met 
 Giuseppe, those lines might one day have be- 
 come true, for stupid and heartless as they are 
 I would finally have become equally stupid and 
 heartless ! And why so ? Because the un- 
 happy state of public affairs had strewed poison 
 into my existence.
 
 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 138 
 
 And my confessions were brought face to 
 face with Giuseppe's. That defiant, vain will of 
 his had so entirely become his master that the 
 most trifling and chance interference might 
 easily have cost him his life, the most acci- 
 dental aim have changed his course. But this 
 defiant, vain will, — in what atmosphere was it 
 bred? 
 
 We gave each other the most complete con- 
 fidence, that evening at Bologna. And then 
 for the first time everything seemed so secure ; 
 ah, so secure! 
 
 Here, on my dearly loved estate he has now 
 set to work. All was chaos here, and he has 
 something now on which he can exercise his 
 will ! He wishes to resign ; he is determined 
 to be no longer a peace officer. He needs a 
 fixed goal, and one that is close at hand ; if I 
 divine rightly it is the one which lies hidden 
 from the world that is dearest to him. 
 
 Thus, at all events, matters stand for the 
 present. What later developments may arise 
 I know not. But I do know that if ever Italy 
 be in danger, he will be one of the first — and 
 ihat in all respects. 
 
 God bless you! Come up here soon. You 
 must see him in his busy life, and you must see 
 him with me. Has ever mortal at any time
 
 134 CAPTAIN MANSANA. 
 
 had 80 considerate a huaband, so noble a lover? 
 Ah, liorgot — my extravagant expressions are 
 not allowed, and yet I assure you they are the 
 only ones I can use ! 
 
 I love you, I long to embrace you again and 
 again, and kiss you, beloved mother of my joy ! 
 
 Darling, sorely -tried woman, from whose 
 eyes go forth a song of praise, from whose lips 
 words of consolation and help fall so refresh- 
 ingly ! You, aye you, must bow your white 
 head in prayer over our happiness, that it may 
 be blessed I Listen I You must be our teacher 
 that the evil days may not come too soon. 
 
 Your son's wife, your own, your faithful 
 
 Thbbbsa.
 
 
 MAY 1 
 
 6 1979 
 
 
 DATE DUE 
 
 INTERLI 
 
 iRm 
 
 
 
 OCT 4 K 
 
 84 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 KCCD Al 
 
 U 28 1984 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 GAYLORD 
 
 
 
 PRfNTED IN U S *
 
 3 1970 00226 6796
 
 mmm 
 
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