Happiness Was Almost Bewildering.
It Was A Lovely Sunshiny Day, And The Tall Light-Brown Form Went Briskly
On Its Way, Moving Its Arms Unconsciously, As If Rehearsing The Scene
Which Was Shortly To Follow. In The Left-Hand Pocket Of His Coat He Had
A Silk Handkerchief, Which Had Long Been His Dream, Of A Bright Orange
Colour With A Light-Blue Border, And Of Which The Corner Was Seen
Protruding From His Pocket. It Was Not At All His Intention To Put The
Handkerchief To Its Legitimate Use; For That Purpose He Had A Red Cotton
One, Adorned With Abraham Lincoln'S Portrait. The Silk Handkerchief Was
To Be Used Only For Effect, And Every Time He Met Any One In The Avenue
Before Whom He Thought It Worth While To Show Off, And That Was Nearly
Every Passer-By, He Drew The Brilliant Handkerchief From His Pocket,
Raised It Carefully To His Face, And Let It Fall Again. He Derived The
Greatest Satisfaction From Feeling The Rough Surface Of The Silk Cling
To The Hard Skin On The Inside Of His Hands.
At The Building-Yard He Met Martin, Who Was Coming Hastily Along In The
Opposite Direction.
"Is Your Sister At Home?" Asked Torpander.
"Yes, You Will Find Her At Home," Answered Martin, With An Ominous
Smile.
In The Yard Close To The House At Sandsgaard, Martin Met Pastor Martens,
Who Was On His Way From The Town, Dressed In cassock And Ruff.
Martin Touched His Cap. "Will You Come And See My Sister, Sir? She Is At
The Point Of Death."
"Who Is Your Sister?" Asked The Pastor.
"Marianne, Sir; Anders Begmand'S Granddaughter."
"Oh Yes, I Remember Now," Answered The Pastor, Who Knew Her History
Perfectly Well. "But I Cannot Come Just Now; I Have To Go In Here First.
Consul Garman Is Also On His Death-Bed. But I Will Come Afterwards."
"Oh Yes, This Is Just What I Might Have Expected," Muttered Martin,
Turning To Go Away.
"Wait A Moment, Young Man," Cried The Pastor. "If You Think That Time
Presses, I Will Go And See Your Sister. It'S The Last House, Is It Not?"
Upon Which He Went On Past Sandsgaard, And On Towards West End.
Chapter 21 Pg 135
Martin Was Astonished, If Not Almost Disappointed. The Pastor Meanwhile
Continued His Way, Which He Did Not Find Very Pleasant When He Had To
Pass Among The Cottages. Ragged Urchins Waylaid Him, The Girls And The
Old Women Put Their Heads Out Of The Doors And Gaped After Him, While A
Group Of Children Who Were Grovelling On The Shore Cheered Him Lustily.
Wherever He Turned, All Reeked Of Filth And Poverty.
As Torpander Could Get Nothing Out Of Anders Begmand, Whom He Found
Huddled Up In a Corner Of The Room, He Went Upstairs And Knocked At
Marianne'S Door. No One Said "Come In," And He Therefore Ventured To
Open The Door Slightly And Look Into The Room.
Poor Man! He Was So Appalled That He Could Scarcely Keep His Feet. There
She Lay, His Own Beloved Marianne; Her Mouth Half Open, And Moaning
Incessantly. Her Cheeks, Which Were Sunken, Were Of An Ashy White, And
In The Dark Hollows Round Her Eyes Were Standing Small Drops Of
Perspiration. He Had No Idea That Her State Was So Hopeless; And This
Was The Time He Had Chosen For Making His Proposal! Marianne Lifted Her
Eyes. She Knew Him--Of That He Felt Assured, For She Smiled Faintly With
Her Own Heavenly Smile; But He Could Not Help Remarking How Conspicuous
Her Teeth Appeared. She Could No Longer Speak, But Her Large Eyes Moved
Several Times From Him To The Window, And He Thought That She Was Asking
For Something. Torpander Went To The Window, Which Was A New One Tom
Robson Had Had Made, And Laid His Hand On The Fastening. She Smiled
Again, And As He Opened The Window, He Could See A Look Of Thankfulness
Pass Over Her Features. The Midday Sun, Which Was Shining Over The Hill
At The Back Of The House And Falling Obliquely On The Window, Threw A
Ray Of Light For A Short Distance Into The Room. Away In The Town The
Bells Were Tolling For A Funeral, And Their Sound, Which Was Re-Echoed
From The Hill, Was Soft And Subdued In Its Tone.
Marianne Turned Towards The Light; Her Eyes Were Shining Brilliantly,
And A Delicate Shade Of Red Mantled Her Cheeks. Torpander Thought He Had
Never Seen Her Look So Lovely.
When Pastor Martens Entered The Room, He Was As Much Struck By The
Appearance Of The Dying Woman As Torpander Had Been, But In Quite A
Different Manner. It Was Impossible She Could Be So Near Death; And He
Could Not Help Feeling Annoyed With Martin, Who Had Thus Exaggerated His
Sister'S Danger, And Had Perhaps Been The Cause Of His Arriving Too Late
At Consul Garman'S Death-Bed. The Extraordinary Figure Dressed In The
Long Light-Brown Coat, Which Kept Ever And Anon Bowing To Him, Did Not
Tend To Calm His Feelings, And It Is Possible That Something Of His
Annoyance Showed Itself In The Words Which He Now Addressed To Marianne.
The Clergyman Was Standing By The Bed In Such A Position As To Shield
The Light Of The Window From Marianne, Who Was Gazing At Him With Her
Large Eyes. He Did Not Wish To Be Severe, But It Was Well Known That The
Woman At Whose Death-Bed He Was Standing, Was Fallen. At The Close Of
Such A Life, It Was Only His Duty To Speak Of Sin And Its Bitter
Consequences. Marianne'S Eyes Began To Wander Uneasily As She Turned
Them, Now On The Clergyman, And Now On Torpander. At Length She Made An
Effort, And Turned Her Face In The Other Direction.
The Pastor Did Not Intend To Finish His Discourse Without Holding Out A
Hope Of Reconciliation With God, Even After Such A Life Of Sin; But
While He Continued Speaking About Repentance And Forgiveness, The
Neighbour, Who Had Been At Her Dinner, Entered The Room.
Chapter 21 Pg 136
The Woman Went To The Foot Of The Bed, But When She Looked At Marianne'S
Face She Said Quietly, "I Beg Your Pardon, Sir, But She Is Dead."
"Dead!" Said The Minister, Rising Hastily From His Chair. "It Is Most
Extraordinary!" He Took Up His Hat, Said Good-Bye, And Left The Room.
The Woman Took Marianne'S Hands And Folded Them Decently Across
