
Полная версия
The Treasure
Just as Torarin drove past, he turned about and looked behind him as though aware of someone following.
Torarin saw plainly that behind Sir Archie stole a young maid in a long gray garment, but Sir Archie did not see her. When he turned his head she stood motionless, and Sir Archie's own shadow fell upon her, dark and broad, and hid her.
Sir Archie turned again at once and pursued his way, and again the maiden hurried forward and made as though she would whisper in his ear.
But when Torarin saw this his terror was more than he could bear. He cried aloud and whipped up his horse, so that it brought him at full gallop and dripping with sweat to the door of his cabin.
CHAPTER V
HAUNTED
The town with all its houses and buildings stood upon that side of Marstrand island which looked to landward and was protected by a wreath of holms and islets. There people swarmed in its streets and alleys; there lay the harbour, full of ships and boats, the quays, with folk busy gutting and salting fish; there lay the church and churchyard, the market and town hall, and there stood many a lofty tree and waved its green branches in summer time.
But upon that half of Marstrand island which looked westward to the sea, unguarded by isles or skerries, there was nothing but bare and barren rocks and ragged headlands thrust out into the waves. Heather there was in brown tufts and prickly thorn bushes, holes of the otter and the fox, but never a path, never a house or any sign of man.
Torarin's cabin stood high up on the ridge of the island, so that it had the town on one side and the wilderness on the other. And when Elsalill opened her door she came out upon broad, naked slabs of rock, from which she had a wide view to the westward, even to the dark horizon of the open sea.
All the seamen and fishermen who lay icebound at Marstrand used to pass Torarin's cabin to climb the rocks and look for any sign of the ice parting in the coves and sounds.
Elsalill stood many a time at the cottage door and followed with her eyes the men who mounted the ridge. She was sick at heart from the great sorrow that had befallen her, and she said to herself: "I think everyone is happy who has something to look for. But I have nothing in the wide world on which to fix my hopes."
One evening Elsalill saw a tall man, who wore a broad-brimmed hat with a great feather, standing upon the rocks and gazing westward over the sea like all the others.
And Elsalill knew at once that the man was Sir Archie, the leader of the Scots, who had talked with her on the quay.
As he passed the cabin on his way home to the town, Elsalill was still standing in the doorway, and she was weeping.
"Why do you weep?" he asked, stopping before her.
"I weep because I have nothing to long for," said Elsalill. "When I saw you standing upon the rocks and looking out over the sea, I thought: 'He has surely a home beyond the water, and there he is going.'"
Then Sir Archie's heart was softened, and it made him say: "It is many a year since any spoke to me of my home. God knows how it fares with my father's house. I left it when I was seventeen to serve in the wars abroad."
On saying this Sir Archie entered the cottage with Elsalill and began to talk to her of his home.
And Elsalill sat and listened to Sir Archie, who spoke both long and well. Each word that came from his lips made her feel happy. But when the time drew on for Sir Archie to go, he asked if he might kiss her.
Then Elsalill said No, and would have slipped out of the door, but
Sir Archie stood in her way and would have made her kiss him.
At that moment the door of the cottage opened, and its mistress came in in great haste.
Then Sir Archie drew back from Elsalill. He simply gave her his hand in farewell and hurried away.
But Torarin's mother said to Elsalill: "It was well that you sent for me, for it is not fitting for a maid to sit alone in the house with such a man as Sir Archie. You know full well that a soldier of fortune has neither honour nor conscience."
"Did I send for you?" asked Elsalill, astonished.
"Yes," answered the old woman. "As I stood at work on the quay there came a little maid I had never seen before, and brought me word that you begged me to go home."
"How did this maid look?" asked Elsalill.
"I heeded her not so closely that I can tell you how she looked," said the old woman. "But one thing I marked; she went so lightly upon the snow that not a sound was heard."
When Elsalill heard this she turned very pale and said: "Then it must have been an angel from heaven who brought you the message and led you home."
IIAnother time Sir Archie sat in Torarin's cabin and talked with
Elsalill.
There was no one beside them; they talked gaily together and were very cheerful.
Sir Archie was telling Elsalill that she must go home with him to Scotland. There he would build her a castle and make her a fine lady. He told her she should have a hundred serving-maids to wait upon her, and she should dance at the court of the King.
Elsalill sat silently listening to every word Sir Archie said to her, and she believed them all. And Sir Archie thought that never had he met a damsel so easy to beguile as Elsalill.
Suddenly Sir Archie ceased speaking and looked down at his left hand.
"What is it, Sir Archie? Why do you say no more?" asked Elsalill.
Sir Archie opened and closed his hand convulsively. He turned it this way and that.
"What is it, Sir Archie?" asked Elsalill. "Does your hand pain you on a sudden?"
Then Sir Archie turned to Elsalill with a startled face and said: "Do you see this hair, Elsalill, that is wound about my hand? Do you see this lock of fair hair?"
When he began to speak the girl saw nothing, but ere he had finished she saw a coil of fine, fair hair wind itself twice about Sir Archie's hand.
And Elsalill sprang up in terror and cried out: "Sir Archie, whose hair is it that is bound about your hand?"
Sir Archie looked at her in confusion, not knowing what to say. "It is real hair, Elsalill, I can feel it. It lies soft and cool about my hand. But whence did it come?"
The maid sat staring at his hand, and it seemed that her eyes would fall out of her head.
"So was it that my foster sister's hair was wound about the hand of him who murdered her," she said.
But now Sir Archie burst into a laugh. He quickly drew back his hand.
"Why," said he, "you and I, Elsalill, we are frightening ourselves like little children. It was nothing more than a bright sunbeam falling through the window."
But the girl fell to weeping and said: "Now methinks I am crouching again by the stove and I can see the murderers at their work. Ah, but I hoped to the last they would not find my dear foster sister, but then one of them came and plucked her from the wall, and when she sought to escape he twined her hair about his hand and held her fast. And she fell on her knees before him and said: 'Have pity on my youth! Spare my life, let me live long enough to know why I have come into the world! I have done you no ill, why would you kill me? Why would you deny me my life?' But he paid no heed to her words and killed her."
While Elsalill said this Sir Archie stood with a frown on his brow and turned his eyes away.
"Ah, if I might one day meet that man!" said Elsalill. She stood before Sir Archie with clenched fists.
"You cannot meet the man," said Sir Archie. "He is dead."
But the maid threw herself upon the bench and sobbed. "Sir Archie, Sir Archie, why have you brought the dead into my thoughts? Now I must weep all evening and all night. Leave me, Sir Archie, for now I have no thought for any but the dead. Now I can only think upon my foster sister and how dear she was to me."
And Sir Archie had no power to console her, but was banished by her tears and wailing and went back to his companions.
IIISir Archie could not understand why his mind was always so full of heavy thoughts. He could never escape them, whether he drank with his companions, or whether he sat in talk with Elsalill. If he danced all night at the wharves they were still with him, and if he walked far and wide over the frozen sea, they followed him there.
"Why am I ever forced to remember what I would fain forget?" Sir Archie asked himself. "It is as though someone were always stealing behind me and whispering in my ear.
"It is as though someone were weaving a net about me," said Sir
Archie, "to catch all my own thoughts and leave me none but this.
I cannot see the pursuer who casts the net, but I can hear his step as he comes stealing after me."
"It is as though a painter went before me and painted the same picture wherever my eyes may rest," said Sir Archie. "Whether I look to heaven or to earth I see naught else but this one thing."
"It is as though a mason sat within my heart and chiselled out the same heavy care," said Sir Archie. "I cannot see this mason, but day and night I can hear the blows of his mallet as he hammers at my heart. 'Heart of stone, heart of stone,' he says, 'now you shall yield. Now I shall hammer into you a lasting care.'"
Sir Archie had two friends, Sir Philip and Sir Reginald, who followed him wherever he went. They were grieved that he was always cast down and that nothing could avail to cheer him.
"What is it that ails you?" they would say. "What makes your eyes burn so, and why are your cheeks so pale?"
Sir Archie would not tell them what it was that tormented him. He thought: "What would my comrades say of me if they knew I yielded to these unmanly thoughts? They would no longer obey me if they found out that I was racked with remorse for a deed there was no avoiding."
As they continued to press him, he said at last, to throw them off
the scent: "Fortune is playing me strange tricks in these days.
There is a girl I have a mind to win, but I cannot come at her.
Something always stands in my way."
"Maybe the maiden does not love you?" said Sir Reginald.
"I surely think her heart is disposed toward me," said Sir Archie; "but there is something watching over her, so that I cannot win her."
Then Sir Reginald and Sir Philip began to laugh and said: "Never fear, we'll get you the girl."
That evening Elsalill was walking alone up the lane, coming from her work. She was tired and thought to herself: "This is a hard life and I find no joy in it. It sickens me to stand all day in the reek of fish. It sickens me to hear the other women laugh and jest in their rude voices. It sickens me to see the hungry gulls fly above the tables trying to snatch the fish out of my hands. Oh, that someone would come and take me away from here! I would follow him to the world's end."
When Elsalill had reached the darkest part of the lane, Sir
Reginald and Sir Philip came out of the shadow and greeted her.
"Mistress Elsalill," they said, "we have a message for you from Sir Archie. He is lying sick at the inn. He longs to speak with you and begs you to accompany us home."
Elsalill began to fear that Sir Archie might be grievously sick, and she turned at once and went with the two Scottish gallants who were to bring her to him.
Sir Philip and Sir Reginald walked one on each side of her. They smiled at one another and thought that nothing could be easier than to delude Elsalill.
Elsalill was in great haste; she almost ran down the lane. Sir Philip and Sir Reginald had to take long strides to keep up with her.
But as Elsalill was making such haste to reach the inn, something began to roll before her feet. It seemed to have been thrown down in front of her, and she nearly stumbled over it.
"What can it be that rolls on and on before my feet?" thought Elsalill. "It must be a stone that I have kicked from the ground and sent rolling down the hill."
She was in such a hurry to reach Sir Archie that she did not like being hindered by the thing that rolled close before her feet. She kicked it aside, but it came back at once and rolled before her down the lane.
Elsalill heard it ring like silver when she kicked it away, and she saw that it was bright and shining.
"It is no common stone," she thought. "I believe it is a coin of silver." But she was in such haste to reach Sir Archie that she thought she had no time to pick it up.
But again and again it rolled before her feet, and she thought: "You will go on the faster if you stoop down and pick it up. You can throw it far away if it is nothing."
She stooped down and picked it up. It was a big silver coin and it shone white in her hand.
"What is it that you have found in the street, mistress?" asked
Sir Reginald. "It shines so white in the moonlight."
At that moment they were passing one of the great storehouses, where foreign fisher-folk lodged while they lay at Marstrand. Before the entrance hung a lantern, which threw a feeble light upon the street.
"Let us see what you have found, mistress," said Sir Philip, standing under the light.
Elsalill held up the coin to the lantern, and hardly had she cast eye upon it when she cried out: "This is Herr Arne's money! I know it well. This is Herr Arne's money!"
"What's that you say, mistress?" asked Sir Reginald. "What makes you say it is Herr Arne's money?"
"I know the coin," said Elsalill. "I have often seen it in Herr
Arne's hand. Yes, it is surely Herr Arne's money."
"Shout not so loudly, mistress!" said Sir Philip. "People run here already to know the cause of this outcry."
But Elsalill paid no heed to Sir Philip. She saw that the door of the warehouse stood open. A fire blazed in the midst of the floor and round about it sat a number of men conversing quietly and at leisure.
Elsalill hastened in to them, holding the coin aloft. "Listen to me, every man!" she cried. "Now I know that Herr Arne's murderers are alive. Look here! I have found one of Herr Arne's coins."
All the men turned toward her. She saw that Torarin the fish hawker sat among them.
"What is that you tell us so noisily, my girl?" Torarin asked.
"How can you know Herr Arne's moneys from any other?"
"Well may I know this very piece of silver from any other," said
Elsalill. "It is old and heavy, and it is chipped at the edge.
Herr Arne told us that it came from the time of the old kings of
Norway, and never would he part with it when he counted out money to pay for his goods."
"Now you must tell us where you have found it, mistress," said another of the fishermen.
"I found it rolling before me in the street," said Elsalill. "One of the murderers has surely dropped it there."
"It may be as you say," said Torarin, "but what can we do in this matter? We cannot find the murderers by this alone, that you know they have walked in one of our streets."
The fishermen were agreed that Torarin had spoken wisely. They settled themselves again about the fire.
"Come home with me, Elsalill," said Torarin. "This is not an hour for a young maid to run about the streets of the town."
As Torarin said this, Elsalill looked about for her companions. But Sir Reginald and Sir Philip had stolen away without her noticing their departure.
CHAPTER VI
IN THE TOWN CELLARS
One morning the hostess of the Town Cellars at Marstrand threw open her doors to sweep the steps and the lobby, and then she caught sight of a young maid sitting on one of the steps and waiting. She was dressed in a long gray garment which was fastened with a belt at the waist. Her hair was fair, and it was neither bound nor braided, but hung down on either side of her face.
As the door opened she went down the steps into the lobby, but it seemed to the hostess that she moved as though walking in her sleep. And all the time she kept her eyelids lowered and her arms pressed close to her side. The nearer she came, the more astonished was the hostess at the fragile slenderness of her form. Her face was fair, but it was delicate and transparent, as though it had been made of brittle glass.
When she came down to the hostess she asked whether there was any work she could do, and offered her services.
Then the hostess thought of all the wild companions whose habit it was to sit drinking ale and wine in her tavern, and she could not help smiling. "No, there is no place here for a little maid like you," she said.
The maiden did not raise her eyes nor make the slightest movement, but she asked again to be taken into service. She desired neither board nor wages, she said, only to have a task to perform.
"No," said the hostess, "if my own daughter were as you are, I should refuse her this. I wish you a better lot than to be servant here."
The young maid went quietly up the steps, and the hostess stood watching her. She looked so small and helpless that the woman took pity on her.
She called her back and said to her: "Maybe you run greater risks if you wander alone about the streets and alleys than if you come to me. You may stay with me today and wash the cups and dishes, and then I shall see what you are fit for."
The hostess took her to a little closet she had contrived beyond the hall of the tavern. It was no bigger than a cupboard and had neither window nor loophole, but was only lighted by a hatch in the wall of the public room.
"Stand here today," said the hostess to the maid, "and wash me all the cups and dishes I pass you through this hatch, then I shall see whether I can keep you in my service."
The maiden went into the closet, and she moved so silently that the hostess thought it was like a dead woman slipping into her grave.
She stood the whole day and spoke to none, nor ever leaned her head through the hatch to look at the folk who came and went in the tavern. And she did not touch the food that was set before her. Nobody heard her make a clatter as she washed, but whenever the hostess held out her hand to the hatch, she passed out clean cups and dishes without a speck on them.
But when the hostess took them to set them out on the table, they were so cold that she thought they would sear the skin off her fingers. And she shuddered and said: "It is as though I took them from the cold hands of Death himself."
IIOne day there had been no fish to clean on the quays, so that Elsalill had stayed at home. She sat at the spinning-wheel and was alone in the cottage. A good fire was burning on the hearth, and it was light enough in the room.
In the midst of her work she felt a light breath, as though a cold breeze had swept over her forehead. She looked up and saw her dead foster sister standing beside her.
Elsalill laid her hand on the wheel to stop it, and sat still, looking at her foster sister. At first she was afraid, but she thought to herself: "It is unworthy of me to be afraid of my foster sister. Whether she be dead or alive, I am still glad to see her."
"Dear sister," she said to the dead girl, "is there aught you would have me do?"
The other said to her in a voice that had neither strength nor tone: "My sister Elsalill, I am in service at the tavern, and the hostess has made me stand and wash cups and dishes all day. Now the evening is come and I am so tired that I can hold out no longer. I have come hither to ask if you will not give me your help."
When Elsalill heard this it was as though a veil was drawn over her mind. She could no longer think nor wonder nor feel any fear. She only knew joy at seeing her foster sister again, and she answered: "Yes, dear sister, I will come straight and help you."
Then the dead girl went to the door, and Elsalill followed her. But as they stood on the threshold her foster sister paused and said to Elsalill: "You must put on your cloak. There is a strong wind outside." And as she said this her voice sounded clearer and less muffled than before.
Elsalill then took her cloak from the wall and wrapped it around her. She thought to herself: "My foster sister loves me still. She wishes me no evil. I am only happy that I may go with her wherever she may take me."
And then she followed the dead girl through many streets, all the way from Torarin's cabin, which stood on a rocky slope, down to the level streets about the harbour and the market place.
The dead girl always walked two paces in front of Elsalill. A heavy gale was blowing that evening, howling through the streets, and Elsalill noticed that when a violent gust would have flung her against the wall, the dead girl placed herself between her and the wind and screened her as well as she could with her slender body.
When at last they came to the town hall the dead girl went down the cellar steps and beckoned Elsalill to follow her. But as they were going down the wind blew out the light in the lantern that hung in the lobby and they were in darkness. Then Elsalill did not know where to turn her steps and the dead girl had to put her hand on hers to lead her. But the dead girl's hand was so cold that Elsalill started and began to quake with fear. Then the dead girl drew her hand away and wound it in a corner of Elsalill's cloak before she led her on again. But Elsalill felt the icy chill through fur and lining.
Now the dead girl led Elsalill through a long corridor and opened a door for her. They came into a little dark closet where a feeble light fell through a hatch in the wall. Elsalill saw that they were in a room where the scullery wench stood and scoured cups and dishes for the hostess to set out on the tables for her customers. Elsalill could just see that a pail of water stood upon a stool, and in the hatch were many cups and goblets that wanted rinsing.
"Will you help me with this work tonight, Elsalill?" said the dead girl.
"Yes, dear sister," said Elsalill, "you know I will help you with whatsoever you wish."
Elsalill then took off her cloak, rolled up her sleeves and began the work.
"Will you be very quiet and silent in here, Elsalill, so that the hostess may not know that I have found help?"
"Yes, dear sister," said Elsalill; "you may be sure I will."
"Then farewell, Elsalill," said the dead girl. "I have only one more thing to ask of you. And it is that you be not too angry with me for this thing."
"Wherefore do you bid me farewell?" said Elsalill. "I will gladly come every evening and help you."
"No, there is no need for you to come after this evening," said the dead girl. "I have good hope that tonight you will give me such help that my mission will now be ended."
As they spoke thus Elsalill was already leaning over her work. All was still for a while, but then she felt a light breath on her forehead, as when the dead girl had come to her in Torarin's cabin. She looked up and saw that she was alone. Then she knew what it was that had felt like a faint breeze upon her face, and said to herself: "My dead foster sister has kissed my forehead before she parted from me."
Elsalill now turned to her work and finished it. She rinsed out all the bowls and tankards and dried them. Then she looked in the hatch whether any more had been set in there, and finding none she stood at the hatch and looked out into the tavern.
It was an hour of the day when there was usually little custom in the cellars. The hostess was absent from her bar and none of her tapsters was to be seen in the room. The place was empty, save for three men, who sat at the end of a long table. They were guests, but they seemed well at their ease, for one of them, who had emptied his tankard, went to the bar, filled it from one of the great tuns of ale and wine that stood there, and sat down again to drink.
Elsalill felt as though she had come here from a strange world. Her thoughts were with her dead foster sister, and she could not clearly take in what she saw. It was a long while before she was aware that the three men at the table were well known and dear to her. For they who sat there were none other than Sir Archie and his two friends Sir Reginald and Sir Philip.
For some days past Sir Archie had not visited Elsalill, and she was glad to see him. She was on the point of calling to him that she was there at hand; but then the thought came to her, how strange it was that he had ceased to visit her, and she kept silence. "Maybe his fancy has turned to another," thought Elsalill. "Maybe it is of her he is thinking."
For Sir Archie sat a little apart from the others. He was silent and gazed steadily before him, without touching his drink. He took no part in the talk, and when his friends addressed a word to him, he was seldom at the pains to make them an answer.