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The priest had no weapon save the knife he had taken from Helga; and with this he tried to defend himself. One of the robbers lifted his axe to slay him, but the young priest sprang aside and eluded the blow, which struck deep into the horse's neck, so that the blood spurted forth, and the creature sank down on the ground.
However, I thought I could do no harm by calling; and in this view Fritz supported me with a cordiality that surprised me, until he confessed that he also had his motives for liking a visit to the princess's house, which motive was no other than a great desire to see the princess's lady-in-waiting and bosom friend, the Countess Helga von Strofzin. Etiquette seconded Fritz's hopes.
"Just so," said Hardy, smiling. Helga understood him. The Pastor and his two boys had been looking at the photographs with much interest. And do you live there, Herr Hardy?" "Yes," replied Hardy, "except when I take a foreign tour. My mother resides there. My father died when I was young. But would not Frøken Helga like to see the photographs?"
Hardy gave some necessary orders as to coaling, and they went ashore and saw the Museum of Northern Antiquities, Thorwaldsen's Museum, and much else, and lunched at the Hotel d'Angleterre in the King's New Market, or Kongens Nytorv. "Now, Helga, what is there more to see?" asked Hardy.
John Hardy said nothing, but he thought that the application was true to other lands than Denmark, particularly England. Frøken Helga went to her room, and Karl and Axel implored Hardy to go fishing; but he refused. "It is not right to do so," he said; "we have to keep the Sunday, and fishing is not keeping the Sunday." "But everybody does here, and more than, other days," said Karl.
And close by the terrified Viking woman Helga seemed to be crouching on the floor in the hideous frog form, trembling and pressing close to her foster-mother, who took her on her lap and embraced her affectionately, hideous though she was. The air resounded with the blows of clubs and swords, and with the hissing of arrows, as if a hailstorm were passing across it.
To a lady's, I presume, from your bouquet there," answered Rischenheim as lightly as he could. "The little bunch of flowers," simpered young Anton, "is a cousinly offering to Helga von Tarlenheim, and I'm going to present it. Can I give you a lift anywhere?"
"You are always good, and think so much about us." "You are kind. Hardy," said the Pastor; while Frøken Helga looked as if she did not understand Hardy. As they walked up to the mansion from the lake, they went through the valley of roses, which has before been described as giving the name to Rosendal. "What do you say, Frøken Helga, to this place?" asked Hardy.
Taking it from her bosom, she kissed it before she gave it to me. Then she added a thousand cautions, how I was to carry her letter, how I was to go and how return, and how I was to run no danger, because my wife Helga loved me as well as she would have loved her husband had Heaven been kinder. "At least, almost as I should, Fritz," she said, now between smiles and tears.
Hardy rode quietly in through the entrance gate and dismounted. It was clear, by the demeanour of the English groom, that he saw nothing unusual in what had passed; but it was very different with the Danish family. The boys cheered, but Frøken Helga had disappeared.
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