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John Hardy consulted the pilot, and the yacht was brought up and anchored under Stevn's Klint, in shelter, much to Pastor Lindal's comfort, who appeared at lunch fully recovered from his sea-sickness. "Præstø," said he, "is so called after a priest called Anders; he was a monk at the time of the Reformation, but adopted the reformed religion.
Write at once, as my anxiety is more than I can bear." There was more in the letter, breathing the same deep affectionate solicitude a mother alone feels. John Hardy wrote at once. "My dearest Mother, "If I had anything to tell you, I should have told you long ago. I have described Pastor Lindal's family to you in my letters, and, I can only add, my respect for him grows daily.
"It is indeed dramatic," said Mrs. Hardy. "The stories of giants appear to have had their origin from natural forces, as ice, or the heat of summer, but have been blended with human attributes." The drive to Møen's Klint from Grønsund was full of interest from Pastor Lindal's knowledge of the past history of so many places.
Helga was assiduous in learning English, and daily became more useful to Mrs. Hardy, The Pastor often came to dinner, and the days passed pleasantly. "John," said Mrs. Hardy, one day, when she was alone with her son, "you have asked me to ascertain what Helga Lindal's feelings are to you, if I possibly could. I cannot. All I can say is, marry her, and you will never regret it. Ask her.
During Pastor Lindal's short stay in England, John Hardy did his best to interest him in English life and manners. The Pastor's wish was to visit an English country church, and to see the whole working of an English parish. His disapproval of the gift, or, worse still, the sale, of a cure of souls was utter and complete. "Your system of selling or giving livings is bad," he said.
As soon as the entrance of the outer harbour at Aarhus could be made out, John Hardy went on the bridge with his binocular, and distinguished Pastor Lindal's head appearing over the parapet wall at the pierhead. "Your father is on the pier, Helga, and you can see him with this glass," said Hardy, handing her his binocular.
She refused him, but her father wishes it, as Holm is a good man," said Fru Jensen. "In Denmark, you must know," said the proprietor, "that it is the custom for a Pastor's daughter always to marry the Kapellan." Hardy understood now the secret of Frøken Helga Lindal's manner. She was attached to this Kapellan Holm. "But what are you going to do with Rosendal?" asked Herr Jensen.
The way to Rosendal was over the sandy road for two English miles, when the entrance gate was reached, leading up an avenue of lime trees that had been pollarded. The storms would certainly have pollarded them in a more irregular manner than the hand of man. The house was a much larger house than Pastor Lindal's parsonage, but after the same fashion.
Karl and Axel had ran to the shores of the lake, and had hunted along its banks to find wild ducks' eggs, happily without success. On the way back to Pastor Lindal's parsonage, John Hardy attempted a conversation with Frøken Helga; but it failed utterly. She talked with her brothers and walked with them. Hardy saw he was avoided.
"The peace and calm of the beech woods, and the fret of the wind waves on the shore of the lake, suggest thoughts that are unspeakable to me." Hardy started. She had spoken in a simple manner, but he felt that she experienced all she uttered. He now understood Pastor Lindal's words that Rosendal was Helga's enthusiasm.
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