ButNilshimselfwasnotawareofit.Occasionally，whileheplayed，theNixy’shauntingstrainwouldflitthroughhisbrain，orhoveraboutit，wherehecouldfeelit，asitwere，butyetbeunabletocatchit.Thiswashisregret——hisconstantchaseforthoseelusivenotesthatrefusedtobecaptured.
　　Butheconsoledhimselfmanyatimewiththereflectionthatitwasthefiddle’sfault，nothisown.Withafinerinstrument，capableofrenderingmoredelicateshadesofsound，hemightyetsurprisetheNixy’sstrain，andrecorditunmistakablyinblackandwhite.
　　TheforeignmusicianandhisAmericanfrienddeparted，butreturnedattheendoftwoweeks.TheythenofferedtoaccompanyNilsonaconcerttourthroughallthecapitalsofEuropeandthelargecitiesofAmerica，andtoinsurehimasumofmoneywhichfairlymadehimdizzy.
　　Nilsbeggedfortimetoconsider，andthenextdaysurprisedthembydecliningthestartlingoffer.
　　Hewasapeasant，hesaid，andmustremainapeasant.Hebelongedhereinhisnativevalley，wherehecoulddogood，andwashappyinthebeliefthathewasuseful.
　　Outinthegreatworld，ofwhichheknewnothing，hemightindeedgatherwealth，buthemightlosehispeaceofmind，whichwasmorepreciousthanwealth.Hewascontentwithamoderateprosperity，andthathehadalreadyattained.Hehadenough，andmorethanenough，tosatisfyhismodestwants，andtoprovidethosewhoweredeartohimwithreasonablecomfortintheirpresentconditionoflife.
　　Thestrangerswereamazedataman’sthuscalmlyrefusingafortunethatwaswithinhiseasygrasp，fortheydidnotdoubtthatNils，withhisentirelyunconventionalmannerofplaying，andyetwiththatextraordinarymovingqualityinhisplay，wouldbecometheragebothinEuropeandAmerica，asakindofheaven—born，untutoredgenius，andfillbothhisownpocketsandtheirswithshekels.
　　Theymaderepeatedeffortstopersuadehim，butitwasallinvain.Withsmilingserenity，hetoldthemthathehadutteredhisfinaldecision.Theythentookleaveofhim，andamonthaftertheirdeparturetherearrivedfromGermanyaboxaddressedtoNils.Heopeneditwithsometrepidation，anditwasfoundtocontainaCremonaviolin——agenuineStradivarius.
　　ThemomentNilstouchedthestringswiththebow，athrillofrapturewentthroughhim，thelikeofwhichhehadneverexperienced.Thedivinesweetnessandpurityofthetonethatvibratedthroughthosemagicchambersresoundedthroughallhisbeing，andmadehimfeelhappyandexalted.
　　Itoccurredtohim，whilehewascoaxingtheintoxicatingmusicfromhisinstrument，thattonightwouldbemidsummernight.NowwashischancetocatchtheNixy’sstrain，forthisexquisiteviolinwouldbecapableofrenderingtheverychantofthearchangelsinthemorningoftime.
　　To—nighthewouldsurprisetheNixy，andthedivinestrainshouldnomoredriftlikeamelodiousmistthroughhisbrain;foratmidsummernighttheNixyalwaysplaystheloudest，andthen，ifever，isthetimetolearnwhathefeltmustbethehighestsecretofthemusicalart.
　　HugginghisStradivariusclosetohisbreast，toprotectitfromthedampnight—air，Nilshurriedthroughthebirchwoodsdowntotheriver.Themoonwassailingcalmlythroughafleecyfilmofcloud，andalightmisthoveredoverthetopsoftheforest.
　　Thefieryafterglowofthesunsetstilllingeredintheair，thoughthesunhadlongbeenhidden，buttheshadowsofthetreesweregauntanddark，asinthelightofthemoon.
　　Thesoundofthecataractstolewithawhisperingrushthroughtheunderbrush，forthewaterwaslowatmidsummer，andagooddealofitwasdivertedtothemill，whichwasworkingbusilyaway，withitsbigwater—wheelgoingroundandround.
　　Nilspausedclosetothemill，andpeeredintentlyintotherushingcurrent;butnothingappeared.Thenhestoledowntotheriver—bank，whereheseatedhimselfonabigstone，barelyoutofreachofthespray，whichblewingustsfromthecataract.Hesatforalongwhilemotionless，gazingwithraptintentnessatthestruggling，foamingrapids，buthesaworheardnothing.
　　Thenallofasuddenitseemedtohimthattheairbegantovibratefaintlywithavague，captivatingrhythm.Nilscouldhearhisheartbeatinhisthroat.Withtremblingeagernessheunwrappedtheviolinandraisedittohischin.
　　Now，surely，therewasanote.ItbelongedontheAstring.No，notthere.OntheEstring，perhaps.Butno，notthere，either.
　　Look！Whatisthat？
　　Aflash，surely，throughthewaterofabeautifulnakedarm.
　　Andthere——no，notthere——butsomewherefromoutofthegentlerushofthemiddlecurrentthereseemedtocometohimamarvellousmistofdriftingsound——ineffably，rapturouslysweet！
　　WithalightmovementNilsrunshisbowoverthestrings，butnotaghost，notasemblance，canhereproduceoftheswift，scurryingflightofthatwondrousmelody.Againandagainhelistensbreathlessly，andagainandagaindespairoverwhelmshim.
　　Shouldhe，then，neverseetheNixy，andaskthefulfilmentofhisthreewishes？
　　Curiouslyenough，thosethreewisheswhichonceweresogreatapartofhislifehadnowalmostescapedhim.ItwastheNixy’sstrainhehadbeenintentupon，andthewisheshadlapsedintooblivion.
　　Andwhatwerethey，really，thosethreewishes，forthesakeofwhichhedesiredtoconfronttheNixy？
　　Well，thefirst——thefirstwas——whatwasit，now？Yes，nowatlengthheremembered.Thefirstwaswisdom.
　　Well，thepeoplecalledhimWiseNilsnow，so，perhaps，thatwishwassuperfluous.Verylikelyhehadasmuchwisdomaswasgoodforhim.Atallevents，hehadrefusedtoacquiremorebygoingabroadtoacquainthimselfwiththeaffairsofthegreatworld.
　　Thenthesecondwish;yes，hecouldrecallthat.Itwasfame.Itwasoddindeed;that，too，hehadrefused，andwhathepossessedofitwasasmuch，orevenfarmore，thanhedesired.Butwhenhecalledtomindthethirdandlastofhisboyishwishes，amoderateprosperityoragoodviolin——forthatwasthealternative——hehadtolaughoutright，forboththeviolinandtheprosperitywerealreadyhis.
　　Nilslapsedintodeepthought，ashesatthereinthesummernight，withthecrownsofthetreesabovehimandthebrawlingrapidsswirlingabouthim.
　　HadnottheNixybestoweduponhimherbestgiftalreadyinpermittinghimtohearthatexquisiteghostofamelody，thatshadowy，impalpablestrain，whichhadhauntedhimthesemanyyears？Inpursuingthathehadgainedthegoalofhisdesires，tillotherthingshehadwishedforhadcometohimunawares，asitwere，andalmostwithouthisknowingit.AndnowwhathadhetoaskoftheNixy，whohadblessedhimsoabundantly？
　　Thelastsecret，thewondrousstrain，forsooth，thathemightimprisonitinnotes，anddinitintheearsofanunappreciativemultitude！Perhapsitwerebetter，afterall，topersevereforeverinthequest，forwhatwouldlifehavelefttoofferhimiftheNixy’sstrainwasfinallycaught，whenallwerefinallyattained，andnodivinemelodyhauntedthebrain，beyondthepowersevenofaStradivariustolurefromitsshadowyrealm？
　　Nilswalkedhomethatnightplungedindeepmeditation.HevowedtohimselfthathewouldnevermoretrytocatchtheNixy’sstrain.Butthenextday，whenheseizedtheviolin，thereitwasagain，and，striveashemight，hecouldnotforbeartryingtocatchit.
　　WiseNilsismanyyearsoldernow;hasagoodwifeandseveralchildren，andisahappyman;buttothisday，resolveashewill，hehasneverbeenabletoabandontheefforttocatchtheNixy’sstrain.Sometimeshethinkshehashalfcaughtit，butwhenhetriestoplayit，itisalwaysgone.
　　THEWONDERCHILD
　　I.
　　AverycommonbeliefinNorway，asinmanyotherlands，isthattheseventhchildoftheseventhchildcanhealthesickbythelayingonofhands.Suchachildisthereforecalledawonderchild.LittleCarinaHoltwastheseventhinafamilyofeightbrothersandsisters，butshegrewtobesixyearsoldbeforeitbecamegenerallyknownthatshewasawonderchild.Thenpeoplecamefromafartoseeher，bringingtheirsickwiththem;andmorningaftermorning，asMrs.Holtrolleduptheshades，shefoundinvalids，seatedorstandinginthesnow，gazingwithdevoutfaithandanxiouslongingtowardCarina’swindow.
　　Itseemedapitytosendthemawayuncomforted，whenthelookandthetouchcostCarinasolittle.Buttherewasanotherfearthataroseinthemother’sbreast，andthatwaslestherchildshouldbeharmedbythevenerationwithwhichshewasregarded，andperhapscometobelievethatshewassomethingmorethanacommonmortal.Whatwasmorenaturalthanthatachildwhowastoldbygrown—uppeoplethattherewashealinginhertouch，shouldatlastcometobelievethatshewassomethingapartandextraordinary？
　　Itwouldhavebeenamarvel，indeed，iftheconstantattentionsheattracted，andthepilgrimagesthatweremadetoher，hadfailedtomakeanyimpressionuponhersensitivemind.Vainshewasnot，anditwouldhavebeenunjusttosaythatshewasspoiled.Shehadatendernature，fullofsympathyforsorrowandsuffering.Shewasconstantlygivingawayhershoes，herstockings，nay，evenherhoodandcloak，topoorlittleinvalids，whosemiseryappealedtohermercifulheart.Itwasofnousetoscoldher;youcouldnomorepreventastreamfromflowingthanCarinafromgiving.Itwasaspontaneousyieldingtoanimpulsethatwastoostrongtoberesisted.
　　Buttoherfathertherewassomethingunnaturalinit;hewouldhavepreferredtohaveherfranklyselfish，asmostchildrenare，notbecausehethoughtitlovely，butbecauseitwaschildishandnatural.Herunusualgoodnessgavehimapangmorepainfulthaneverthebadbehaviorofherbrothershadoccasioned.Ontheotherhand，itdelightedhimtoseeherdoanythingthatordinarychildrendid.Hewascharmedifshecouldbeinducedtotakepartinanoisyromp，playtag，ordressherdolls.Buttherefollowedusuallyaftereachoutbreakofnaturalmirthashywithdrawalintoherself，aresoluteandquietretirement，asifshe，wereatrifleashamedofhergayety.Therewasnothingmorbidinthesemoods，nobroodingsadnessorrepentance，butatouchingsolemnity，aserene，almostcheerfulseriousness，whichinoneofheryearsseemedstrange.
　　Mr.HolthadmanyastrugglewithhimselfastohowheshouldtreatCarina’sdelusion;andhemadeuphismind，atlast，thatitwashisdutytodoeverythinginhispowertodispelandcounteractit.Whenhehappenedtooverhearhertalkingtoherdollsoneday，layingherhandsuponthem，andcuringthemofimaginarydiseases，heconcludeditwashightimeforhimtoact.
　　HecalledCarinatohim，remonstratedkindlywithher，andforbadeherhenceforthtoseethepeoplewhocametoherforthepurposeofbeingcured.Butitdistressedhimgreatlytoseehowreluctantlysheconsentedtoobeyhim.
　　WhenCarinaawokethemorningafterthispromisehadbeenextortedfromher，sheheardthedogsbarkingfuriouslyintheyardbelow.Hereldersister，Agnes，wasstandinghalfdressedbeforethemirror，holdingtheendofoneblondbraidbetweenherteeth，whiletyingtheotherwithapinkribbon.SeeingthatCarinawasawake，shegaveheranodintheglass，and，removingherbraid，observedthatthereevidentlyweresickpilgrimsunderthewindow.ShecouldsympathizewithSultanandHector，sheaverred，intheirdislikeofpilgrims.
　　"Oh，Iwishtheywouldnotcome！"sighedCarina."Itwillbesohardformetosendthemaway."
　　"Ithoughtyoulikedcuringpeople，"exclaimedAgnes.
　　"Ido，sister，butpapahasmademepromisenevertodoitagain."
　　Shearoseandbegantodress，hersisterassistingher，chattingallthewhilelikeagaylittlechirrupingbirdthatneithergetsnorexpectsananswer.ShewastooaccustomedtoCarina’smoodstobeeitherannoyedorastonished;butshelovedherallthesame，andknewthatherlittleearswerewideopen，eventhoughshegavenosignoflistening.
　　CarinahadjustcompletedhersimpletoiletwhenGuro，thechamber—maid，entered，andannouncedthatthereweresomesickfolkbelowwhowishedtoseethewonderchild.
　　"TellthemIcannotseethem，"answeredCarina，withatremulousvoice;"papadoesnotpermitme."
　　"Butthisman，AtlePilot，hascomefromsofarawayinthisdreadfulcold，"pleadedGuro，"andhissonissoverybad，poorthing;he’slyingdownintheboat，andhesighsandgroansfittomoveastone."
　　"Don’t！Don’ttellherthat，"interposedAgnes，motioningtothegirltobegone."Don’tyouseeitishardenoughforheralready？"
　　Therewassomethingintheair，asthetwosistersdescendedthestairshandinhand，whichforebodedcalamity.ThepastorhadgivenoutfromthepulpitlastSundaythathewouldpositivelyreceivenoinvalidsathishouse;andhehadsolemnlychargedeveryonetorefrainfrombringingtheirsicktohisdaughter.
　　Hehadrepeatedthisannouncementagainandagain，andhewasnowverymuchannoyedathisapparentpowerlessnesstoprotecthischildfromfurtherimposition.Loudandangryspeechwasheardinhisoffice，andanoiseasifthefurniturewerebeingknockedabout.Thetwolittlegirlsremainedstandingonthestairs，eachgazingattheother’sfrightenedface.Thentherewasagreatbang，andastalwart，elderlysailorcametumblingheadforemostoutintothehall.Hiscapwasflungafterhimthroughthecrackofthedoor.Agnessawforaninstantherfather’sface，redandexcited;andinhisbearingtherewassomethingwildandstrange，whichwassodifferentfromhisusualgentleanddignifiedappearance.Thesailorstoodforawhilebewildered，leaningagainstthewall;thenhestoopedslowlyandpickeduphiscap.ButthemomenthecaughtsightofCarinahisembarrassmentvanished，andhisroughfeatureswereilluminatedwithanintenseemotion.
　　"Come，littlemiss，andhelpme，"hecried，inahoarse，imploringwhisper."Halvor，myson——heistheonlyoneGodgaveme——heissick;heisgoingtodie，miss，unlessyoutakepityonhim."
　　"Whereishe？"askedCarina.
　　"He’sdownintheboat，miss，atthepier.ButI’llcarryhimuptoyou，ifyoulike.Wehavebeenrowinghalfthenightinthecold，andheisverylow."
　　"No，no;youmustn’tbringhimhere，"saidAgnes，seeingbyCarina’sfacethatshewasonthepointofyielding."Fatherwouldbesoangry."
　　"Hemaykillmeifhelikes，"exclaimedthesailor，wildly."Itdoesn’tmattertome.ButHalvorhe’stheonlyoneIhave，miss，andhismotherdiedwhenhewasborn，andheisyoung，miss，andhewillhavemanyyearstolive，ifyou’llonlyhavemercyonhim."
　　"But，youknow，Ishouldn’tdare，onpapa’saccount，tohaveyoubringhimhere，"beganCarina，strugglingwithhertears.
　　"Ah，yes！Thenyouwillgotohim.Godblessyouforthat！"
　　criedthepoorman，withagonizedeagerness.AndinterpretingtheassenthereadinCarina’seye，hecaughtherupinhisarms，snatchedacoatfromapeginthewall，andwrappingherinit，toreopenthedoor.Carinamadenooutcry，andwasnotintheleastafraid.Shefeltherselfrestingintwostrongarms，warmlywrappedandborneawayatagreatspeedoverthesnow.
　　ButAgnes，seeinghersistervanishinthatsuddenfashion，gaveascreamwhichcalledherfathertothedoor.
　　"Whathashappened？"heasked."WhereisCarina？"
　　"ThatdreadfulAtlePilottookherandranawaywithher."
　　"Ranawaywithher？"criedthepastorinalarm."How？Where？"
　　"Downtothepier."
　　Itwasafewmoments’workfortheterrifiedfathertoburstopenthedoor，andwithhisvelvetskull—caponhishead，andtheskirtsofhisdressing—gownflyingwildlyabouthim，rushdowntowardthebeach.HesawAtlePilotscarcelyfiftyfeetinadvanceofhim，andshoutedtohimatthetopofhisvoice.Butthesailoronlyredoubledhisspeed，anddartedoutuponthepier，huggingtightlytohisbreastthepreciousburdenhecarried.Soblindlydidherushaheadthatthepastorexpectedtoseehimplungeheadlongintotheicywaves.But，asbyamiracle，hesuddenlycheckedhimself，andgraspingwithonehandtheflag—pole，swungaroundit，afootortwoabovetheblackwater，andregainedhisfootholdupontheplanks.Hestoodforaninstantirresolute，staringdownintoaboatwhichlaymooredtotheendofthepier.Whathesawresembledabigbundle，consistingofasheepskincoatandacoupleofhorseblankets.
　　"Halvor，"hecried，withavoicethatshookwithemotion，"Ihavebroughther."
　　Therewaspresentlyavaguemovementunderthehorse—blankets，andafteraminute’sstruggleapaleyellowishfacebecamevisible.Itwasayoungface——thefaceofaboyoffifteenorsixteen.But，oh，whatsufferingwasdepictedinthosesunkeneyes，thosebloodless，crackedlips，andtheshrunkenyellowskinwhichclunginprematurewrinklesabouttheemaciatedfeatures！
　　Anoldandwornfurcapwaspulleddownoverhisears，butfromunderitsrimafewstrandsofblondhairwerehanginguponhisforehead.
　　AtlehadjustdisentangledCarinafromherwrappings，andwasabouttodescendthestairstothewaterwhenaheavyhandseizedhimbytheshoulder，andapantingvoiceshoutedinhisear：
　　"Givemebackmychild."
　　Hepaused，andturnedhispatheticallybewilderedfacetowardthepastor."Youwouldn’ttakehimfromme，parson，"hestammered，helplessly;"no，youwouldn’t.He’stheonlyoneI’vegot."
　　"Idon’ttakehimfromyou，"theparsonthundered，wrathfully.
　　"Butwhatrighthaveyoutocomeandstealmychild，becauseyoursisill？"
　　"Whenlifeisatstake，parson，"saidthepilot，imploringly，"onegetsmuddledaboutrightandwrong.I’lldoyourlittlegirlnoharm.Onlyletherlayherblessedhandsuponmypoorboy’shead，andhewillbewell."
　　"Ihavetoldyouno，man，andImustputastoptothisstupididolatry，whichwillruinmychild，anddoyounogood.Giveherbacktome，Isay，atonce."
　　ThepastorheldouthishandtoreceiveCarina，whostaredathimwithlargepleadingeyesoutofthegrizzlywolf—skincoat.
　　"Begoodtohim，papa，"shebegged."Onlythisonce."
　　"No，child;noparleyingnow;comeinstantly."
　　Andheseizedherbymainforce，andtoreheroutofthepilot’sarms.Buttohisdyingdayherememberedthefigureoftheheart—brokenman，ashestoodoutlinedagainstthedarkhorizon，shakinghisclinchedfistsagainstthesky，andcryingout，inavoiceofdespair：
　　"MayGodshowyouthesamemercyontheJudgmentDayasyouhaveshowntome！"
　　II.
　　Sixmiserabledayspassed.Theweatherwasstormy，andtidingsofshipwreckandcalamityfilledtheair.Scarcelyavisitorcametotheparsonagewhohadnotsometaleofwoetorelate.
　　Thepastor，whowasusuallysogentleandcheerful，woreadismalface，anditwaseasytoseethatsomethingwasweighingonhismind.
　　"MayGodshowyouthesamemercyontheJudgmentDayasyouhaveshowntome！"
　　Thesewordsrangconstantlyinhisearsbynightandbyday.Hadhenotbeenright，accordingtothelawsofGodandman，indefendinghishouseholdagainsttheassaultsofignoranceandsuperstition？Wouldhehavebeenjustifiedinsacrificinghisownchild，evenifhecouldtherebysaveanother’s？And，moreover，wasitnotallawild，heathenishdelusion，whichitwashisdutyasaservantofGodtostampoutandrootoutatallhazards？Yes，therecouldbenodoubtofit;hehadbutexercisedhislegalright.Hehaddonewhatwasdemandedofhimbylawshumananddivine.Hehadnothingtoreproachhimselffor.Andyet，withahauntingpersistency，theimageofthedespairingpilotprayingGodforvengeancestaredathimfromeverydarkcorner，andintheverychurchbells，astheyrangouttheirsolemninvitationtothehouseofGod，heseemedtoheartherhythmandcadenceoftheheart—brokenfather’simprecation.
　　Inthedepthofhishearttherewasastillsmallvoicewhichtoldhimthat，saywhathemight，hehadactedcruelly.IfheputhimselfinAtlePilot’splace，boundashewasintheironbondsofsuperstition，howdifferentthecasewouldlook？Hesawhimself，inspirit，rowinginalonelyboatthroughthestormywinternighttohispastor，bringinghisonlyson，whowasatthepointofdeath，andprayingthatthepastor’sdaughtermightlayherhandsuponhim，asChristhaddonetotheblind，thehalt，andthemaimed.Andhispastorreceivedhimwithwrath，nay，withblows，andsenthimawayuncomforted.Itwasahideouspictureindeed，andMr.Holtwouldhavegivenyearsofhislifetoberidofit.
　　ItwasonthesixthdayafterAtle’svisitthatthepastor，sittingaloneinhisstudy，calledCarinatohim.Hehadscarcelyseenherduringthelastsixdays，oratleasttalkedwithher.Hersweetinnocentspiritwouldbanishtheshadowsthatdarkenedhissoul.
　　"Carina，"hesaid，inhisoldaffectionateway，"papawantstoseeyou.Comehereandletmetalkalittlewithyou."
　　Butcouldhetrusthiseyes？Carina，whoformerlyhadrunsoeagerlyintohisarms，stoodhesitating，asifshehopedtobeexcused.
　　"Well，mylittlegirl，"heasked，inatoneofapprehension，"don’tyouwanttotalkwithpapa？"
　　"Iwouldratherwaittillsomeothertime，papa，"shemanagedtostammer，whileherlittlefaceflushedwithembarrassment.
　　Mr.Holtclosedthedoorsilently，flunghimselfintoachair，andgroaned.Thatwasablowfromwherehehadleastexpectedit.Thechildhadjudgedhimandfoundhimwanting.HisCarina，hisdarling，whohadalwaysbeenclosesttohisheart，nolongerrespondedtohisaffection！Wasthepilot’sprayerbeingfulfilled？Washelosinghisownchildinreturnfortheonehehadrefusedtosave？Withapanginhisbreast，whichwaslikeanachingwound，hewalkedupanddownonthefloorandmarvelledathisownblindness.Hehaderredindeed;andtherewasnohopethatanychancewouldcometohimtoremedythewrong.
　　Thetwilighthaddeepenedintodarknesswhileherevolvedthistroubleinhismind.Thenightwasstormy，andthelimbsofthetreeswithoutwerecontinuallyknockingandbumpingagainstthewallsofthehouse.Therustyweather—vaneontheroofwhinedandscreamed，andeverynowandthenthesleetdashedagainstthewindow—paneslikeahandfulofshot.Thewindhurleditselfagainstthewalls，sothatthetimberscreakedandpulledattheshutters，bangedstraydoorsinout—of—the—waygarrets，andthen，havingaccomplisheditswork，whirledawayoverthefieldswithawildanddismalhowl.Thepastorsatlisteningmournfullytothistempestuouscommotion.Oncehethoughtheheardanoiseasofadooropeningnearbyhim，andsoftlyclosing;butashesawnoone，heconcludeditwashisoverwroughtfancythathadplayedhimatrick.Heseatedhimselfagaininhiseasy—chairbeforethestove，whichspreadadimlightfromitsdraught—holeintothesurroundinggloom.
　　Whilehesatthusabsorbedinhismeditations，hewasstartledatthesoundofsomethingresemblingasob.Hearosetostrikealight，butfoundthathismatch—safewasempty.Butwhatwasthat？Astepwithout，surely，andthegropingofhandsforthedoor—knob.
　　"Whoisthere？"criedthepastor，withashiveringuneasiness.
　　Hesprangforwardandopenedthedoor.Abroadfigure，surmountedbyasou’wester，loomedupinthedark.
　　"Whatdoyouwant？"askedMr.Holt，withforcedcalmness.
　　"Iwanttoknow，"answeredagruff，hoarsevoice，"ifyou’llcometomysonnow，andhelphimintoeternity？"
　　ThepastorrecognizedAtlePilot’svoice，thoughitseemedharsherandhoarserthanusual.
　　"Sailacrossthefjordonanightlikethis？"heexclaimed.
　　"That’swhatIaskyou."
　　"Andtheboyisdying，yousay？"
　　"Can’tlasttillmorning."
　　"Andhasheaskedforthesacrament？"
　　Thepilotsteppedacrossthethresholdandenteredtheroom.Heproceededslowlytopulloffhismittens;thenlookingupatthepastor’sface，uponwhichavaguesheenfellfromthestove，hebrokeout：
　　"Willyoucomeorwillyounot？Youwouldn’thelphimtolive;
　　nowwillyouhelphimtodie？"
　　Thewords，thrustforthwithaslow，pantingemphasis，hitthepastorlikesomanyblows.
　　"Iwillcome，"hesaid，withsolemnresolution."SitdowntillI
　　getready."
　　Hehadexpectedsomeexpressionofgratificationorthanks，forAtlewellknewwhathehadasked.Itwashislifethepastorrisked，butthistimeinhiscallingasaphysician，notofbodies，butofsouls.Itstruckhim，whilehetookleaveofhiswife，thattherewassomethingresentfulanddesperateinthepilot’smanner，sodifferentfromhishumblepleadingattheirlastmeeting.
　　Asheembracedthechildrenonebyone，andkissedthem，hemissedCarina，butwastoldthatshehadprobablygonetothecow—stablewiththedairy—maid，whowasherparticularfriend.
　　Sohelefttendermessagesforher，and，summoningAtle，plungedoutintothestorm.Aservantwalkedbeforehimwithalantern，andlightedthewaydowntothepier，wheretheboatlaytossinguponthewaves.
　　"But，man，"criedthepastor，seeingthattheboatwasempty，"whereareyourboatmen？"
　　"Iammyownboatman，"answeredAtle，gloomily."Youcanholdthesheet，Ithetiller."
　　Mr.Holtwasashamedofretiringnow，whenhehadgivenhisword.
　　Butitwaswithasinkingheartthathesteppedintothefrailskiff，whichseemedscarcelymorethananutshelluponthetempestuousdeep.Hewasonthepointofaskinghisservant，unacquaintedthoughhewaswithseamanship，tobethethirdmanintheboat;butthelatter，anticipatinghisintention，hadmadehastetobetakehimselfaway.Toventureoutintothisroaringdarkness，withnobeacontoguidethem，andscarcelyalandmarkdiscernible，wasindeedtotemptProvidence.
　　Butbythetimehehadfinishedthisreflection，thepastorfelthimselfrushingalongatatremendousspeed，andshort，sharpcommandsranginhisears，whichinstantlyengrossedallhisattention.Tohiseyestheskylookedblackasink，exceptforadark—blueunearthlyshimmerthatnowandthenflaredupfromthenorth，trembled，andvanished.Bythisunsteadyilluminationitwaspossibletocatchamomentaryglimpseofahead，andapeak，andtheoutlineofamountain.Thesmallsailwasdouble—reefed，yettheboatcareenedsoheavilythatthewaterbrokeoverthegunwale.Thesquallsbeatdownuponthemwithtumultuousroarandsmoke，asofsnow—drifts，intheirwake;butthelittleboat，climbingthetopofthewavesandsinkingintothedizzyblackpitsbetweenthem，spedfearlesslyalongandthepastorbegantotakeheart.Then，withafiercecuttingdistinctness，camethecommandoutofthedark.
　　"Pulloutthereefs！"
　　"Areyoucrazy，man？"shoutedthepastor."Doyouwanttosailstraightintoeternity？"
　　"Pulloutthereefs！"Thecommandwasrepeatedwithwrathfulemphasis.
　　"Thenwearedeadmen，bothyouandI."
　　"Soweare，parson——deadmen.Mysonliesdeadathome，thoughyoumighthavesavedhim.So，now，parson，wearequits."
　　Withafiercelaughheroseup，andstillholdingthetiller，stretchedhishandtotearoutthereefs.Butatthatinstant，justasaquiveringshimmerbrokeacrossthesky，somethingroseupfromunderthethwartandstoodbetweenthem.Atlestartedbackwithahoarsescream.
　　"InHeaven’sname，child！"hecried."Oh，God，havemercyuponme！"
　　Andthepastor，notknowingwhetherhesawachildoravision，criedoutinthesamemoment："Carina，mydarling！Carina，howcameyouhere？"
　　ItwasCarina，indeed;butthestormwhirledhertinyvoiceawayoverthewaves，andherfather，foldingherwithonearmtohisbreast，whileholdingthesheetwiththeother，didnothearwhatsheansweredtohisferventexclamation.Heonlyknewthatherdearlittleheadrestedclosetohisheart，andthatheryellowhairblewacrosshisface.
　　"Iwantedtosavethatpoorboy，papa，"weretheonlywordsthatmethisears.Butheneedednomoretoexplainthemystery.ItwasCarina，who，repentingofherunkindnesstohim，hadstolenintohisstudy，whilehesatinthedark，andthereshehadheardAtlePilot’smessage.Evenifthisboywassickuntodeath，shemightperhapscurehim，andmakeupforherfather’sharshness.
　　ThusreasonedthesageCarina;andshehadgonesecretlyandpreparedforthevoyage，andbattledwiththestorm，whichagainandagainthrewherdownonherroadtothepier.Itwasamiraclethatshegotsafelyintotheboat，andstowedherselfawaysnuglyunderthesternthwart.
　　Theclearinginthenorthgraduallyspreadoverthesky，andthestormabated.Soontheyhadtheshoreinview，andthelightsofthefishermen’scottagesgleamedalongthebeachoftheheadland.
　　Presentlytheyranintosmootherwater;astarortwoflashedforth，andwideblueexpansesappearedhereandthereonthevaultofthesky.Theyspiedtheredlanternsmarkingthewharf，aboutwhichamultitudeofboatslay，mooredtostakes，andwiththreeskilfultacksAtlemadetheharbor.Itwashere，standingonthepier，amidtheswashandswirlofsurgingwaters，thatthepilotseizedCarina’stinyhandinhisbigandroughone.
　　"Parson，"hesaid，withabreakingvoice，"Iwasgoingtorunafoulofyou，andwreckmyselfwithyou;butthischild，Godblessher！sheranusbothintoport，safeandsound."
　　ButCarinadidnothearwhathesaid，forshelaysweetlysleepinginherfather’sarms.
　　"THESONSOFTHEVIKINGS"
　　I.
　　WhenHakonVangsaidhisprayersatnight，heusuallyfinishedwiththesewords："AndIthankthee，God，mostofall，becausethoumadestmeaNorseman，andnotaGermanoranEnglishmanoraSwede."
　　TobeaNorsemanappearstotheNorseboyaclaimtodistinction.
　　GodhasmadesomanymillionsofEnglishmenandRussiansandGermans，thattherecanbenoparticularhonorinbeingoneofsovastaherd;whileofNorsemenHehasmadeonlyasmallandselectnumber，whomHelooksafterwithspecialcare;uponwhomHeshowerssuchfavorsaspovertyandcold（withaviewtokeepingthemgoodandhardy），andremotenessfromalltheglitteringtemptationsthatbesetthenationsinwhomHetakesalesspaternalinterest.Thusatleastreasons，inadimway，thesmallboyinNorway;thusheistaughttoreasonbyhisparentsandinstructors.
　　AsforHakonVang，hestruttedalongthebeachlikeaturkey—cock，wheneverhethoughtofhisgloriousdescentfromtheVikings——thosedaringpiratesthatstolethronesandkingdoms，andmixedtheirredNorsebloodintheveinsofalltheroyalfamiliesofEurope.Theteacherofhistory（whowaswhatiscalledaNorse—Norseman）hadononeoccasion，withmorepatrioticzealthandiscretion，undertakentopickoutthoseboysinhisclasswhowereofpureNorsedescent;whosebloodwasuntaintedbyanyforeignadmixture.Thedelightedprideofthissmallbandmadethemanobjectofenvytoalltherestoftheschool.
　　Hakon，whenhisnamewasmentioned，feltasifhehadaddedayardtohisheight.Tearsofjoystartedtohiseyes;andtogiveventtohisoverchargedfeelings，hebrokeintoawar—whoop;
　　forwhichhereceivedfiveblackmarksandwaskeptinatrecess.
　　Buthemindedthatverylittle;allgreatmen，hereflected，havehadtosufferfortheircountry.
　　WhatHakonlovedaboveallthingstostudy——nay，theonlythinghelovedtostudy——wastheoldSagas，whicharetales，poems，andhistoriesofthedeedsoftheNorsemeninancienttimes.Withelevenofhisclassmates，whowereabouthisownageandasNorseashimself，heformedabrotherhoodwhichwascalled"TheSonsoftheVikings."Theygaveeachothertremendouslybloodysurnames，inthestyleoftheSagas——namesthatreekedwithgoreandheroism.Hakonhimselfassumedthepleasingappellation"Skull—splitter，"andhisclassmateFrithjofRonningwasdubbedVargr—i—Veum，whichmeansWolf—in—the—Temple.OneSonoftheVikingswasknownasIronbeard，anotherasErlingtheLop—Sided，athirdasThoretheHound，afourthasAslakStone—Skull.Butaseriousdifficulty，whichcameneardisruptingthebrotherhood，aroseovertheseverynames.ItwasfeltthatHakonhadtakenanunfairadvantageoftherestinselectingthebloodiestnameattheoutset（beforeanyoneelsehadhadanopportunitytochoose），andtherewasageneraldemandthatheshouldgiveitupandallowalltodrawlotsforit.ButthisHakonstoutlyrefusedtodo;anddeclaredthatifanyonewantedhisnamehewouldhavetofightforit，ingoodoldNorsefashion.
　　Aholm—gangorduelwasthenarranged;thatis，aringwasmarkedoutwithstones;thecombatantssteppedwithinit，andhewhocoulddrivehisantagonistoutsideofthestoneringwasdeclaredtobethevictor.Frithjof，whofeltthathehadabetterclaimtobenamedSkull—SplitterthanHakon，wasthefirsttoacceptthechallenge;butafteraterriblecombatwasforcedtobitethedust.Hisconquerorwas，however，filledwithsuchaglowingadmirationofhisvalor（ascombatantsintheSagasfrequentlyare），thatheproposedthattheyshouldsweareternalfriendshipandfoster—brotherhood，andsealtheircompact，accordingtoNorsecustom，bytheceremonycalled"MinglingofBlood."Itisneedlesstosaythatthisseemedtoalltheboysamostdelightfulproposition;andtheyenteredupontheaugustritewithadeepsenseofitssolemnity.
　　Firstapieceofsod，abouttwelvefeetsquare，wascarefullyraiseduponwoodenstakesrepresentingspears，soastoformagreenroofoverthefoster—brothers.Then，sittingupontheblackearth，wheretheturfhadbeenremoved，theybaredtheirarmstotheshoulder，andinthepresenceofhistenbrethren，aswitnesses，eachsworethathewouldregardtheotherashistruebrotherandlovehimandtreathimassuch，andavengehisdeathifhesurvivedhim;insolemntestimonyofwhicheachdrewaknifeandopenedaveininhisarm，lettingtheirbloodmingleandflowtogether.Hakon，however，inhisheroiczeal，drovetheknifeintohisfleshratherrecklessly，andwhenthebloodhadflowedprofuselyforfiveminutes，hegrewatrifleuneasy.
　　Frithjof，afterhavingbathedhisarminaneighboringbrook，hadnodifficultyinstanchingtheblood，butthepoorSkull—Splitter’swound，inspiteofcoldwaterandbandages，keptpouringforthitswarmcurrentwithoutsignofabatement.Hakongrewpalerandpaler，andwouldhaveburstintotears，ifhehadnotbeena"SonoftheVikings."Itwouldhavebeenarelieftohim，forthemoment，nottohavebeena"SonoftheVikings."
　　Forhewasterriblyfrightened，andthoughtsurelyhewasgoingtobleedtodeath.TheotherVikings，too，begantofeelratheralarmedatsuchaprospect;andwhenErlingtheLop—Sided（thepastor’sson）proposedthattheyshouldcarryHakontothedoctor，noonemadeanyobjection.ButthedoctorunhappilylivedsofarawaythatHakonmightdiebeforehegotthere.
　　"Well，then，"saidWolf—in—theTemple，"letustakehimtooldWitch—Martha.Shecanstanchbloodanddolotsofotherqueerthings."
　　"Yes，andthatismuchmoreNorse，too，"suggestedThoretheHound;"wisewomenlearnedphysicandbandagedwoundsintheoldentime.Menwereneverdoctors."
　　"Yes，Witch—Marthaisjusttherightstyle，"saidErlingtheLop—Sideddowninhisboots;forhehadnaturallyashrillvoiceandgavehimselfgreatpainstoproduceamanlybass.
　　"WemustmakealittertocarrytheSkull—Splitteron，"exclaimedEinarBowstring—Twanger（thesheriff’sson）;"he’llnevergettoWitch—Marthaaliveifheistowalk."
　　Thissuggestionwasfavorablyreceived，theboyssettoworkwithawill，andinafewminuteshadputtogetheralitterofgreentwigsandbranches.Hakon，whowasfeelingcuriouslylight—headedandexhausted，allowedhimselftobeplaceduponitinarecliningposition;anditsswingingmotion，ashisfriendscarrieditalong，nearlyrockedhimtosleep.Thefearofdeathwasbutvaguelypresenttohismind;buthisself—importancegrewwitheverymoment，ashesawhisbloodtricklethroughtheleavesanddropattheroadside.HeappearedtohimselfabraveNorsewarriorwhowasbeingcarriedbyhiscomradesfromthebattle—field，wherehehadgreatlydistinguishedhimself.Andnowtobegoing，tothewitchwho，bymagicrhymesandincantations，wastostanchtheebbingstreamofhislife——whatcouldbemoredelightful？
　　II.
　　WitchMarthalivedinasmalllonelycottagedownbytheriver.
　　Veryfewpeopleeverwenttoseeherintheday—time;butatnightsheoftenhadvisitors.Motherswhosuspectedthattheirchildrenwerechangelings，whomtheTroldshadputinthecradle，takingthehumaninfantsaway;girlswhowantedto"turnthehearts"oftheirlovers，andloverswhowantedtoturntheheartsofthegirls;peasantswhohadlostmoneyorvaluablesandwantedhelptotracethethief——theseandmanyotherssoughtsecretcounselwithWitch—Martha，andrarelywentawayuncomforted.Shewasanoldweather—beatenwomanwithadeeplywrinkled，smoky—brownface，andsmallshrewdblackeyes.Thefloorinhercottagewasstrewnwithsandandfreshjunipertwigs;fromtheraftersundertheceilinghungbunchesofstrangeherbs;andinthewindowswereflower—potswithbloomingplantsinthem.
　　Marthawasstoopingatthehearth，blowingandpuffingatthefireunderhercoffee—pot，whentheSonsoftheVikingsknockedatthedoor.Wolf—in—the—Templewasthemanwhotookthelead;
　　andwhenWitch—Marthaopenedtheupperhalfofthedoor（sheneveropenedbothatthesametime）shewasnotalittleastonishedtoseetheCaptain’sson，FrithjofRonning，staringupatherwithananxiousface.
　　"Whatcostthouwant，lad？"sheasked，gruffly;"thouhastgoneastraysurely，andI’llshowtheethewayhome."
　　"IamWolf—in—the—Temple，"beganFrithjof，thrustingouthischest，andraisinghisheadproudly.
　　"Dearme，youdon’tsayso！"exclaimedMartha.
　　"Mycomradeandfoster—brotherSkull—Splitterhasbeenwounded;
　　andIwantthee，oldcrone，tostanchhisbloodbeforehebleedstodeath."
　　"Dear，dearme，howverystrange！"ejaculatedtheWitch，andshookheragedhead.
　　Shehadbeenaccustomedtoextraordinaryrequests;butthelanguageofthisboystruckherasbeingsomethingofthequeerestshehadyetheard.
　　"WhereisthySkull—Splitter，lad？"sheasked，lookingathimdubiously.
　　"Righthereintheunderbrush，"Wolf—in—the—Templeretorted，gallantly;"stirthyagedstumpsnow，andthoushaltberightroyallyrewarded."
　　HehadlearnedfromWalterScott’sromancesthatthiswastheproperwaytoaddressinferiors，andhepridedhimselfnotalittleonhisjauntycondescension.Imaginethenhissurprisewhenthe"oldcrone"suddenlyturnedonhimwithanangryscowlandsaid：
　　"Ifthoucanstnotkeepaciviltongueinthyhead，I’llbringathousandplaguesuponthee，thouumnannerlyboy."
　　BythisthreatWolf—in—the—Temple’scouragewassadlyshaken.HeknewMartha’sreputationasawitch，andhadnodesiretotestinhisownpersonwhetherrumorbeliedher.
　　"Please，mum，Ibegofyou，"hesaid，withasuddenchangeoftone;"myfriendHakonVangisbleedingtodeath;won’tyoupleasehelphim？"
　　"ThyfriendHakonVang！"criedMartha，towhomthatnamewasveryfamiliar;"bringhimin，asquickasthoucanst，andI’lldowhatIcanforhim."
　　Wolf—in—the—Templeputtwofingersintohismouthandgavealoudshrillwhistle，whichwasansweredfromthewoods，andpresentlythesmallprocessionmoveduptothedoor，carryingtheirwoundedcomradebetweenthem.ThepoorSkull—Splitterwasnowaswhiteasasheet，andthedrowsinessofhiseyesandthelaxnessofhisfeaturesshowedthathelpcamenonetooearly.
　　Martha，inhothaste，grabbedabagofherbs，thrustitintoapotofwarmwater，andclappeditonthewound.Thenshebegantowagherheadslowlytoandfro，andcrooned，toasoftandplaintivetune，wordswhichsoundedtotheearsoftheboysshudderinglystrange：
　　"Iconjureinwater，Iconjureinlead，Iconjurewithherbsthatgrewo’erthedead;
　　IconjurewithflowersthatIplucked，withoutshoon，Whentheghostswereabroad，inthewaneofthemoon.
　　IconjurewithspiritsofearthandairThatmakethewindsighandcryindespair;
　　IconjurebyhimwithinsevenfoldringsThatsitsandbroodsattherootsofthings.
　　Iconjurebyhimwhohealethstrife，Whoplantsandwatersthegermsoflife.
　　Iconjure，Iconjure，Ibidtheebestill，Thouruddystream，thouhastflowedthyfill！
　　ReturntothychannelandnurturehislifeTillhisdestinedmeasureofyearsberife."
　　Shesangthelasttwolineswithsuddenenergy;andwhensheremovedherhandfromthewound，thebloodhadceasedtoflow.
　　ThepoorSkull—Splitterwassleepingsoundly;andhisfriends，shiveringalittlewithmysteriousfears，marchedupanddownwhisperingtooneanother.Theysetaguardofhonorattheleafycouchoftheirwoundedcomrade;interceptedthegreenwormsandotherinsectsthatkeptdroppingdownuponhimfromthealderbranchesoverhead，andbrushedawaythefliesthatwouldfaindisturbhisslumbers.TheywereallsteepedtothecoreinoldNorseheroism;andtheyenjoyedthesituationhugely.Allthelifeaboutthemwashalfblottedout;theysawitbutdimly.
　　Thatlightofyouthfulromance，whichneverwasonseaorland，transformedallthecommonthingsthatmettheirvisionintosomethingstrangeandwonderful.Theystrainedtheirearstocatchthemeaningofthesongofthebirds，sothattheymightlearnfromthemthesecretsofthefuture，asSigurdtheVolsungdid，afterhehadslainthedragon，Fafnir.Thewoodsroundaboutthemwerefilledwithdragonsandfabulousbeasts，whosetrackstheydetectedwiththeeyesoffaith;andtheystartedouteverymorning，duringthealltoobriefvacation，onimaginaryexpeditionsagainstimaginarymonsters.
　　WhenattheendofanhourtheSkull—Splitterwokefromhisslumber，muchrefreshed，Witch—Marthabandagedhisarmcarefully，andWolf—in—theTemple（havingnogoldenarm—rings）tossedher，withmagnificentsuperciliousness，hispurse，whichcontainedsixcents.Butsheflungitbackathimwithsuchforcethathehadtododgewithmoreadroitnessthandignity.
　　"I’llgetmyclawsintotheesomeday，thoufoolishlad，"shesaid，liftingherleanvulture—likehandwithathreateninggesture.
　　"No，pleasedon’t，Martha，Ididn’tmeananything，"criedtheboy，ingreatalarm;"you’llforgiveme，won’tyou，Martha？"
　　"I’llbidtheebegone，andtakethyfoolishtonguealongwiththee，"sheanswered，inamollifiedtone.
　　AndtheSonsoftheVikings，takingthehint，shoulderedthelitteroncemore，andreachedSkull—Splitter’shomeintimeforsupper.
　　III.
　　TheSonsoftheVikingsweremuchtroubled.Everyheroicdeedwhichtheyplottedhadthislittledisadvantage，thattheywereindangerofgoingtojailforit.Theycouldnotstealcattleandhorses，becausetheydidnotknowwhattodowiththemwhentheyhadgotthem;theycouldnotsailawayoverthebrinydeepinsearchoffortuneorglory，becausetheyhadnoships;andsail—boatswerescarcelybigenoughfordaringvoyagestothebloomingSouthwhichtheirancestorshadravaged.Thepreciousvacationwasslippingaway，andasyettheyhadaccomplishednothingthatcouldatallbecalledheroic.ItwaswhilethebrotherhoodwaslamentingthisfactthatWolf—in—the—Templehadabrilliantidea.Heprocuredhisfather’spermissiontoinvitehiselevencompanionstospendadayandanightattheRonningsaeter，ormountaindairy，farupinthehighlands.TheonlyconditionMr.Ronningmadewasthattheyweretobeaccompaniedbyhisman，Brumle—Knute，whowastoberesponsiblefortheirsafety.ButtheboysdeterminedprivatelytomakeBrumle—Knutetheirprisoner，incaseheshowedanydispositiontospoiltheirsport.Tospendadayandanightinthewoods，toimaginethemselvesVikings，andbehaveastheyimaginedVikingswouldbehave，wasaprospectwhichnoonecouldcontemplatewithoutthemostdelightfulexcitement.There，farawayfromsheriffsandpastorsandmaternalsupervision，theymightperhapsfindthelong—desiredchanceofperformingtheirheroicdeed.
　　ItwasabeautifulmorningearlyinAugustthattheboysstartedfromStrandholm，Mr.Ronning’sestate，accompaniedbyBrumle—Knute.Thelatterwasamiddle—aged，round—shoulderedpeasant，whohadthehabitofalwaystalkingtohimself.Tolookathimyouwouldhavesupposedthathewasaroughandstupidfellowwhowouldhavequiteenoughtodoinlookingafterhimself.Butthefactwas，thatBrumle—Knutewasthebestshot，thebestclimber——andaltogetherthemostkeen—eyedhunterinthewholevalley.Itwasasayingthathecouldscentgamesowellthatheneverneededadog;andthathecouldimitatetoperfectionthecallofeverygamebirdthatinhabitedthemountainglens.Sweet—temperedhewasnot;butsoreliable，skilful，andvigilant，andmoreoversothoroughawoodsman，thattheboyscouldwellaffordtoputupwithhisgrufftemper.