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Updated: June 1, 2025
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.
It saddened him to think that Herr Arne was gone, and as he approached the parsonage a yet more grievous thought began to torment him. "Grim, my dog," he said, "had I believed that warning of the knives I might have warded off the whole disaster. I often think of that, Grim, my dog. It disquiets my spirit, I feel as though I had had a part in taking Herr Arne's life.
A week after his death Herr Arne was buried in Solberga church, and on the same day an inquest was held upon the murder in the assize house at Branehog. Now Herr Arne's fame was such throughout Bohuslen, and so many people came together on the day of his funeral, both from the mainland and the islands, that it was as though an army had assembled about its leader.
But now I have said to myself that I will have no more of my conscience in this matter. At least I will try to save the little maid." "If Herr Arne's murderers are on board my ship, why does not the watch come out and arrest them?" "I have begged and prayed them all this night and morning," said Torarin, "but the watch durst not come out.
"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.
Perfectly quiet and perfectly impenetrable, Dick only said, "Go on." Beaucourt continued in these words: "She was singing Arne's delicious setting of Ariel's song in the 'Tempest, with a taste and feeling completely thrown away on the greater part of the audience. That she was beautiful in my eyes at least I needn't say.
But when he was gone she fell to thinking that this armlet had been bought for her with Herr Arne's money. When she thought of this she could not endure to look on it. She plucked it from her arm and threw it far away. "What will my life be, if I must always call to mind that I am living on Herr Arne's money?" she thought.
I don't mind the words not fitting the notes so well as the original ones. For the other things Betsey mentioned, I only wish to have them with such accompaniment as you would put to their present words, and I shall have got words to my liking for them by the time they reach me. Arne's method is must be the best.
Arne's delicious "Blow! blow! thou Winter's wind," and "Under the green-wood tree." "Oh!" as Jaques says, "I can suck melancholy from the recollection of these songs as a weasel sucks eggs." Then follow Jackson of Exeter's "Lord of the Manor," and Dibdin's "Quaker" and "Waterman;" pieces after Incledon's own heart; all free, rich, clear melody, without glitter.
Your friends would have to be fur-lined, too, and your dinners would no longer be the modest affairs of old, but would soar to the champagne standard. It would not be possible to slip unnoticed into your favourite little restaurant in Soho to take your simple chop, or to go in quest of that wonderful restaurant of Arne's of which "Aldebaran" keeps the secret.
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