The Emperor of Portugallia

But the clergyman would not be consoled. He covered his beautiful young face with his hands, and wept.

"No," he sobbed, "I suppose I can't. But what have I done to guard the young girl who was thrown on the world, unprotected? And what have I done to comfort her old father who had only her to live for?"

"The pastor is practically a newcomer in the parish," said the senator, "so that if there is any question of responsibility it falls more heavily upon the rest of us, who were acquainted with the circumstances. But who could think it was to end so disastrously? Young folk have to make their own way in life. We've all been thrust out in much the same way, yet most of us have fared rather well."

"O God of mercy!" prayed the pastor, "grant me the wisdom to speak to the unhappy father. Would I might stay his fleeing wits – !"

Sexton Blackie, standing there with Jan, now cleared his throat.

The pastor rose at once, went up to Jan, and took him by the hand.

"My dear Jan!" he said feelingly. The pastor was tall and fair and handsome. When he came up to you, with his kindly blue eyes beaming benevolence, and spoke to you in his deep sympathetic voice, it was not easy to resist him. In this instance, however, the only thing to do was to set him right at the start, which Jan did of course.

"Jan is no more, my good Pastor," he said. "Now we are Emperor Johannes of Portugallia, and he who does not wish to address us by our proper title, him we have nothing to say to."

With that, Jan gave the pastor a stiff' imperial nod of dismissal, and put on his cap. They looked rather foolish, did the three men who stood in the vestry, when Jan pushed open the door and walked out.

BOOK THREE

THE EMPEROR'S SONG

In the wooded heights above Loby there was still a short stretch of an old country road where in bygone days all teams had to pass, but which was now condemned because it led up and down the worst hills and rocky slopes instead of having the sense to go round them. The part that remained was so steep that no one in driving made use of it any more though foot-farers climbed it occasionally, as it was a good short cut.

The road ran as broad as any of the regular crown highways, and was still covered with fine yellow gravel. In fact, it was smoother now than formerly, being free from wheel tracks, and mud, and dust. Along the edge bloomed roadside flowers and shrubs; dogwood, bittervetch, and buttercups grew there in profusion even to this day, but the ditches were filled in and a whole row of spruce trees had sprung up in them. Young evergreens of uniform height, with branches from the root up, stood pressing against each other as closely as the foliage of a boxwood hedge; their needles were not dry and hard, but moist and soft, and their tips were all bright with fresh green shoots. The trees sang and played like humming bees on a fine summer day, when the sun beams down upon them from a clear sky.

When Jan of Ruffluck walked home from church the Sunday he had appeared there for the first time in his royal regalia, he turned in on the old forest road. It was a warm sunny day and, as he went up the hill, he heard the music of the spruces so plainly that it astonished him.

Never had spruce trees sung like that! It struck him that he ought to find out why they were so loud-voiced just to-day. And being in no special haste to reach home, he dropped down in the middle of the smooth gravel road, in the shade of the singing tree. Laying his stick on the ground, he removed his cap and mopped his brow, then he sat motionless, with hands clasped, and listened.

The air was quite still, therefore it could hardly have been the wind that had set all these little musical instruments into motion. It was almost as if the spruces played for very joy at being so young and fresh; at being let stand in peace by the abandoned roadside, with the promise of many years of life ahead of them before any human being would come and cut them down.

But if such was the case, it did not explain why the trees sang with such gusto just that day; they could rejoice over those particular blessings any pleasant summer day; they did not call for any extra music.

Jan sat still in the middle of the road, listening with rapt attention. It was pleasant hearing the hum of the spruce, though it was all on one note, with no rests, so that there was neither melody nor rhythm about it.

He found it so refreshing and delightful up here on the heights. No wonder the trees felt happy, he mused. The wonder was they sang and played no better than they did. He looked up at their small twigs on which every needle was fine and well made, and in its proper place, and drank in the piney odour that came from them. There was no flower of the meadow, no blossom of the grove so fragrant! He noted their half-grown cones on which the scales were compactly massed for the protection of the seed.

These trees, which seemed to understand so well what to do for themselves, ought to be able to sing and play so that one could comprehend what they meant. Yet they kept harping all the while on the same strain. He grew drowsy listening to them, and stretched himself flat on the smooth, fine gravel to take a little nap.

But hark! What was this? The instant his head touched the ground and his eyes closed, the trees struck up something new. Ah, now there came rhythm and melody!

Then all that other was only a prelude, such as is played at church before the hymn.

This was what he had felt the whole time, though he had not wanted to say it even in his mind. The trees also knew what had happened. It was on his account they tuned up so loudly the instant he appeared. And now they sang of him – there was no mistaking it now, when they thought him asleep. Perhaps they did not wish him to hear how much they were making of him.

And what a song, what a song! He lay all the while with his eyes shut, but could hear the better for that. Not a sound was lost to him.

Ah, this was music! It was not just the young trees at the edge of the road that made music now, but the whole forest. There were organs and drums and trumpets; there were little thrush flutes and bullfinch pipes; there were gurgling brooks and singing water-sprites, tinkling bluebells and thrumming woodpeckers.

Never had he heard anything so beautiful, nor listened to music in just this way. It rang in his ear; so that he could never forget it.

When the song was finished and the forest grew silent, he sprang to his feet as if startled from a dream. Immediately he began to sing this hymn of the woods so as to fix it forever in his memory.

The Empress's father, for his part,Feels so happy in his heart.

Then came the refrain, which he had not been able to catch word for word, but anyhow he sang it about as it had sounded to him:

Austria, Portugal, Metz, Japan,Read the newspapers, if you can.Boom, boom, boom, and roll.Boom, boom.No gun be his but a sword of gold;Now a crown for a cap on his head behold!Austria, Portugal, Metz, Japan,Read the newspapers, if you can.Boom, boom, boom, and roll.Boom, boom.Golden apples are his meat,No more of turnips shall he eat.Austria, Portugal, Metz, Japan,Read the newspapers, if you can.Boom, boom, boom, and roll.Boom, boom.Court ladies clothed in bright arrayBow as he passes on his way.Austria, Portugal, Metz, Japan,Read the newspapers, if you can.Boom, boom, boom, and roll.Boom, boom.When he the forest proudly treads,All the tree-tops nod their heads.Austria, Portugal, Metz, Japan,Read the newspapers, if you can.Boom, boom, boom, and roll.Boom, boom.

It was just this "boom, boom" that had sounded best of all to him. With every boom he struck the ground hard with his stick and made his voice as deep and strong as he could. He sang the song over and over again, till the forest fairly rang with it.

But then the way in which it had been composed was so out of the common! And the fact that this was the first and only time in his life he had been able to catch and carry a tune was in itself a proof of its merit.

THE SEVENTEENTH OF AUGUST

The first time Jan of Ruffluck had gone to Lövdala on a seventeenth of August the visit had not passed off as creditably for him as he could have wished; so he had never repeated it, although he had been told that each year it was becoming more lively and festive at the Manor.

But now that the little girl had come up in the world, it was altogether different with him. He felt that it would be a great disappointment to Lieutenant Liljecrona if so exalted a personage as the Emperor Johannes of Portugallia did not do him the honour of wishing him happiness on his birthday.

So he donned his imperial regalia and sallied forth, taking good care not to be among the first arrivals. For him who was an emperor it was the correct thing not to put in an appearance until all the guests had made themselves quite at home, and the festivities were well under way.

Upon the occasion of his former visit he had not ventured farther than the orchard and the gravelled walk in front of the house. He had not even gone up to pay his respects to the host. But now he could not think of behaving so discourteously.

This time he made straight for the big bower at the left of the porch, where the lieutenant sat with a group of dignitaries from Svartsjö and elsewhere, grasped him by the hand, and wished him many happy returns of the day.

"So you've come out to-day, Jan," said the lieutenant in a tone of surprise.

To be sure he was not expecting an honour like this, which probably accounted for his so far forgetting himself as to address the Emperor by his old name. Jan knew that so genial a man as the lieutenant could have meant no offense by that, therefore he corrected him in all meekness.

"We must make allowances for the lieutenant," he said, "since this is his birthday; but by rights we should be called Emperor Johannes of Portugallia."

Jan spoke in the gentlest tone possible, but just the same the other gentlemen all laughed at the lieutenant for having made such a bad break. Jan had never intended to cause him humiliation on his birthday, so he promptly dismissed the matter and turned to the others. Raising his cap with an imperial flourish, he said:

"Go'-day, go'-day, my worthy Generals and Bishops and Governors." It was his intention to go around and shake hands with everybody, as one is expected to do at a party.

Nearest the lieutenant sat a short, stocky man in a white cloth jacket, with a gold-trimmed collar, and a sword at his side, who, when Jan stepped up to greet him did not offer his whole hand, but merely held out two fingers. The man's intentions may have been all right, but of course a potentate like Emperor Johannes of Portugallia knew he must stand upon his dignity.

"I think you will have to give me your whole hand, my good Bishop and Governor," he said very pleasantly, for he did not want to disturb the harmony on this great day.

Then, mind you, the man turned up his nose!

"I have just heard it was not to your liking that Liljecrona called you by name," he observed, "and I wonder how you can have the audacity to say du [Note: Du like the French "tu" is used only in addressing intimates.] to me!" Then, pointing to three poor little yellow stars that were attached to his coat, he roared: "See these?"

When remarks of this kind were flung at him, the Emperor Johannes thought it high time to lay off his humility. He quickly flipped back his coat, exhibiting a waistcoat covered with large showy "medals" of "silver" and "gold." He usually kept his coat buttoned over these decorations as they were easily tarnished, and crushable. Besides, he knew that people always felt so ill at ease when in the presence of exalted personages and he had no desire to add to their embarrassment by parading his grandeur when there was no occasion for it. Now, however, it had to be done.

"Look here, you!" he said. "This is what you ought to show if you want to brag. Three paltry little stars – pooh! that's nothing!"

Then you had better believe the man showed proper respect! The fact that all who knew about the Empress and the Empire were laughing themselves sick at the Major General must have had its effect, also.

"By cracky!" he ejaculated, rising to his feet and bowing. "If it isn't a real monarch that I have before me! Your Majesty even knows how to respond to a speech."

"That's easy when you know how to meet people," retorted the other. After that no gentleman in the party was so glad to be allowed to talk to the ruler of Portugallia as was this very man, who had been so high and mighty at first that he would not present more than two fingers, when an emperor had offered him his whole hand.

It need hardly be said that none of the others seated in the bower refused to accord the Emperor a fitting greeting. Now that the first feeling of surprise and embarrassment had passed and the men were beginning to perceive that he was not a difficult person to get on with, emperor though he was, they were as eager as was every one else to hear all about the little girl's rise to royal honours and her prospective return to her home parish. At last he was on so friendly a footing with them all that he even consented to sing for them the song he had learned in the forest.

This was perhaps too great a condescension on his part, but since they were all so glad for every word he uttered he could not deny them the pleasure of hearing him sing, also.

And when he raised his voice in song imagine the consternation! Then his audience was not confined to the group of elderly gentlemen in the bower. For immediately the old countesses and the old wives of the old generals who had been sitting on the big sofa in the drawing room, sipping tea and eating bonbons, and the young barons and young Court ladies who had been dancing in the ballroom, all came rushing out to hear him and all eyes were fixed on him, which was quite the proper thing, as he was an emperor.

The like of that song they had never heard, of course, and as soon as he had sung it through they wanted him to sing it again. He hesitated a good while – for one must never be too obliging in such matters – but they would not be satisfied until he had yielded to their importunities. And this time, when he came to the refrain, they all joined in, and when he got to the "boom, boom" the young barons beat time with their feet and the young Court ladies clapped their hands to the measure of the tune.

But that was a wonderful day! As he sang it again and again, with so many smartly dressed people chiming in; so many pretty young ladies darting him glances of approval; so many young swains shouting bravo after every verse, he felt as dizzy as if he had been dancing. It was as if some one had taken him in their arms and lifted him into the air.

He did not lose his head, though, but knew all the while that his feet were still on the earth. Meantime, he had the pleasant sensation of being elevated far above every one. On the one hand, he was being borne up by the honour, on the other by the glory. They bore him away on strong wings and placed him upon an imperial throne, far, far away amongst the rosy evening clouds.

There was but one thing wanting. Think, if the great Empress, his little Glory Goldie, had only been there, too!

Instantly this thought flashed upon him, a red shimmer passed before his eyes. Gazing at it more intently, he saw that it emanated from a young girl in a red frock who had just come out from the house, and was then standing on the porch.

The young girl was tall and graceful and had a wealth of gold yellow hair. From where he stood he could not see her face, but he thought she could be none other than Glory Goldie. Then he knew why he had been so blissfully happy that evening; it was just a foretoken of the little girl's nearness. Breaking off in the middle of his song and pushing aside all who stood in his way, he ran toward the house.

When he reached the steps he was obliged to halt. His heart thumped so violently it seemed ready to burst. But gradually he recovered just enough strength to be able to proceed. Very slowly he mounted step by step till at last he was on the porch. Then, spreading out his arms, he whispered:

"Glory Goldie!"

Instantly the young girl turned round. It was not Glory Goldie! A strange woman stood there, staring at him in astonishment.

Not a word could he utter, but tears sprang to his eyes; he could not hold them back. Now he faced about and staggered down the steps. Turning his back upon all the merriment and splendour, he went on up the driveway.

The people kept calling for him. They wanted him to come back and sing to them again. But he heard them not. As fast as he could go he hurried toward the woods, where he could be alone with his grief.

KATRINA AND JAN

Jan of Ruffluck had never had so many things to think about and ponder over as now, that he had become an emperor.

In the first place he had to be very guarded, since greatness had been thrust upon him, so as not to let pride get the upper hand. He must bear in mind continually that we humans were all made from the same material and had sprung from the same First Parents; that we were all of us weak and sinful and at bottom one person was no better than another.

All his life long he had observed, to his dismay, how people tried to lord it over one another, and of course he had no desire to do likewise. He found, however, that it was not an easy matter for one who had become exalted to maintain a proper humility. His greatest concern was that he might perhaps say or do something that would cause his old friends, who were still obliged to pursue their humble callings, to feel themselves slighted and forgotten. Therefore he deemed it best when attending such functions as dinners and parties – which duty demanded of him – never to mention in the hearing of these people the great distinction that had come to him. He could not blame them for envying him. Indeed not! Just the same he felt it was wisest not to make them draw comparisons.

And of course he could not ask men like Börje and the seine-maker to address him as Emperor. Such old friends could call him Jan, as they had always done; for they could never bring themselves to do otherwise.

But the one whom he had to consider before all others and be most guarded with was the old wife, who sat at home in the hut. It would have been a great consolation to him, and a joy as well, if greatness had come to her also. But it had not. She was the same as of yore. Anything else was hardly to be expected. Glory Goldie must have known it would be quite impossible to make an empress of Katrina. One could not imagine the old woman pinning a golden coronet on her hair when going to church; she would have stayed at home rather than show her face framed in anything but the usual black silk headshawl.

Katrina had declared out and out she did not want to hear about Glory Goldie being an empress. On the whole it was perhaps best to humour her in this.

But one can understand it must have been hard for him who spent his mornings at the pier, surrounded by admiring throngs of people, who at every turn addressed him as "Emperor," to drop his royal air the moment he set foot in his own house. It cannot be denied that he found it a bit irksome having to fetch wood and water for Katrina and then to be spoken to as if he had gone backward in life instead of forward.

If Katrina had only stopped at that he would not have minded it, but she even complained because he would not go out to work now, as in former days. When she came with such things he always turned a deaf ear. As if he did not know that the Empress of Portugallia would soon send him so much money that he need never again put on his working clothes! He felt it would be an insult to her to give in to Katrina on this point.

One afternoon, toward the end of August, as Jan was sitting upon the flat stone in front of the hut, smoking his pipe, he glimpsed some bright frocks in the woods close by, and heard the ring of youthful voices.

Katrina had just gone down to the birch grove to cut twigs for a broom: but before leaving she had said to Jan that hereafter they must arrange their matters so that she could go down to Falla and dig ditches; he might stay at home and do the cooking and mending, since he was too fine now to work for others. He had not said a word in retort, but all the same it was mighty unpleasant having to listen to such talk; therefore he was very glad that he could turn his thoughts to something else. Instantly he ran inside for his imperial cap and stick, and was out again and down at the gate just as the young girls came along.

There were no less than five of them in the party, the three young misses from Lövdala and two strangers, who were evidently guests at the Manor.

"Go'-day, my dear Court ladies," said Jan as he swung the gate wide open and went out toward them. "Go'-day, my dear Court ladies," he repeated, at the same time making such a big sweep with his cap that it almost touched the ground.

The girls stood stockstill. They looked a bit shy at first, but he soon helped them over their momentary embarrassment.

Then it was "good-day" and "our kind Emperor." It was plain they were really glad to see him again. These little misses were not like Katrina and the rest of the Ashdales folk. They were not at all averse to hearing about the Empress and immediately asked him if Her Highness was well and if she was not expected home soon.

They also asked if they might be allowed to step into the hut, to see how it looked inside. That he could well afford to let them do, for Katrina always kept the house so clean and tidy that they could receive callers there at any time.

When the young misses from the Manor came into the house they were no doubt surprised that the great Empress had grown up in a little place like that. It may have done very well in the old days, when she was used to it, they said, but how would it be now should she come back? Would she reside here, with her parents, or return to Portugallia?

Jan had thought the selfsame things himself, and he understood of course that Glory Goldie could not settle down in the Ashdales when she had a whole kingdom to rule over.

"The chances are that the Empress will return to Portugallia," he replied.

"Then you will accompany her, I suppose?" said one of the little misses.

Jan would rather the young lady had not questioned him regarding that matter. Nor did he give her any reply at first, but she was persistent.

"Possibly you don't know as yet how it will be?" she said.

Oh, yes, he knew all about it, only he was not quite sure how people would regard his decision. Perhaps they might think it was not the correct thing for an emperor to do. "I shall remain at home," he told her. "It would never do for me to leave Katrina."

"So Katrina is not going to Portugallia?"

"No," he answered. "You couldn't get Katrina away from the hut, and I shall stay right here with her. You see when one has promised to love and cherish till death – "

"Yes, I understand that one can't break that vow." This was said by the young girl who seemed most eager to know about everything. "Do you hear that, all of you?" she added. "Jan won't leave his wife though all the glories of Portugallia are tempting him."

And think of it! The girls were very glad of this. They patted him on the back and told him he did right. That was a favourable sign, they said, for it showed that all was not over yet with good old Jan Anderson of Ruffluck Croft.

He could not make out just what they meant by that; but probably they were happy to think the parish was not going to lose him.

They bade him good-bye now, saying they were going over to Doveness to a garden party.

They had barely gone when Katrina walked in. She must have been standing outside the door listening. But how long she had stood there or how much she had heard, Jan did not know. Anyway, she looked more amiable and serene than she had appeared in a long while.

"You're an old simpleton," she told him. "I wonder what other women would say if they had a husband like you? But still it's a comfort to know that you don't want to go away from me."

BJÖRN HINDRICKSON'S FUNERAL