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Updated: May 17, 2025
"How long?" she said, "how long must I wait? How long must I watch the work of Satan in the land? The fields are barren and will not bring forth; the curse of bitter poverty is upon us all: and only he, the pagan Gueldmar, prospers and gathers in harvest, while all around him starve! Do I not know the devil's work when I see it, I, the chosen servant of the Lord?"
But, for myself, I attach no importance to the mere appurtenances of life, the baggage that accompanies one on that brief journey. Life itself is quite enough for me." "And for me too," averred Lorimer, delighted that his friend had taken the old farmer's scornful observations so good-naturedly. "But, do you know, Mr. Gueldmar, you are making life unpleasant for us just now, by turning us out?
"Good Lord, have mercy on her soul!" murmured Ulrika piously, as she closed the upward staring eyes, and crossed the withered hands. "Good devil, claim thine own!" said Gueldmar, with proudly lifted arm and quivering, disdainful lips. "Thou foolish woman! Thinkest thou thy Lord makes place for murderers in His heaven? If so, 'tis well I am not bound there!
To his intense relief he found Gueldmar lying calmly back among his pillows, his eyes well open and clear, and an expression of perfect peace upon his features. He smiled as he saw his servant enter. "All is in readiness?" he asked. Valdemar bent his head in silent assent. The bonde's face lightened with extraordinary rapture. "I thank thee, old friend!" he said in low but glad accents.
Odd, isn't it? or so it seems to you," and Gueldmar pressed the young man's arm lightly and kindly; "but our Norse oaths, are taken with great solemnity, and are as binding as the obligation of death itself. However, I have not commanded Valdemar's obedience yet, nor do I think I am likely to do so for some time. He is a fine, faithful fellow, though too much given to dreams."
Gueldmar," he said; "he's never serious himself, I'll give you his character in a few words. He belongs to no religious party, it's true, but he's a first-rate fellow, the best fellow I know!" Lorimer glanced at him quietly with a gratified expression on his face. But he said nothing, for Thelma was regarding him with a most bewitching smile.
As they reached the yacht a silver glare of lightning sprang forth from beneath this sable pinion, and a few large drops of rain began to fall. Errington hurried Thelma on deck and down into the saloon. His friends, with Gueldmar, followed, and the vessel was soon plunging through waves of no small height on her way back to the Altenfjord.
It was decided that on reaching home, old Gueldmar should proceed a little in advance, in order to see his daughter alone first, and break to her the news of the tragic event that had occurred, so that when, after a long and toilsome journey, they caught sight, at about eight in the evening, of the familiar farmhouse through the branches of the trees that surrounded and sheltered it, they all came to a halt.
Thelma saw it, standing under her house-porch, where her father had joined her, Sigurd saw it, he had come out from some thicket where he had been hiding, and he now sat, in a humble, crouching posture at Thelma's feet. All three were silent, reverently watching the spreading splendor of the heavens. Once Gueldmar addressed his daughter in a soft tone. "Thou are happy, my bird?"
He hastened back to report this to Gueldmar, who was making the whole place resound with his shouts of "Thelma!" and "Britta!" though he shouted altogether in vain. "Maybe," he said dubiously, on hearing of the missing boat "Maybe the child has gone on the Fjord 'tis often her custom, but, then, where is Britta?
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