Then all that other was only a prelude, such as is played at church before the hymn.
This was what he had felt the whole time, though he had not wanted to say it even in his mind. The trees also knew what had happened. It was on his account they tuned up so loudly the instant he appeared. And now they sang of him—there was no mistaking it now, when they thought him asleep. Perhaps they did not wish him to hear how much they were making of him.
And what a song, what a song! He lay all the while with his eyes shut, but could hear the better for that. Not a sound was lost to him.
Ah, this was music! It was not just the young trees at the edge of the road that made music now, but the whole forest. There were organs and drums and trumpets; there were little thrush flutes and bullfinch pipes; there were gurgling brooks and singing water-sprites, tinkling bluebells and thrumming woodpeckers.
Never had he heard anything so beautiful, nor listened to music in just this way. It rang in his ear; so that he could never forget it.
When the song was finished and the forest grew silent, he sprang to his feet as if startled from a dream. Immediately he began to sing this hymn of the woods so as to fix it forever in his memory.
The Empress’s father, for his part,
Feels so happy in his heart.
Then came the refrain, which he had not been able to catch word for word, but anyhow he sang it about as it had sounded to him:
Austria, Portugal, Metz, Japan,
Read the newspapers, if you can.
Boom, boom, boom, and roll.
Boom, boom.No gun be his but a sword of gold;
Now a crown for a cap on his head behold!
Austria, Portugal, Metz, Japan,
Read the newspapers, if you can.
Boom, boom, boom, and roll.
Boom, boom.Golden apples are his meat,
No more of turnips shall he eat.
Austria, Portugal, Metz, Japan,
Read the newspapers, if you can.
Boom, boom, boom, and roll.
Boom, boom.Court ladies clothed in bright array
Bow as he passes on his way.
Austria, Portugal, Metz, Japan,
Read the newspapers, if you can.
Boom, boom, boom, and roll.
Boom, boom.When he the forest proudly treads,
All the treetops nod their heads.
Austria, Portugal, Metz, Japan,
Read the newspapers, if you can.
Boom, boom, boom, and roll.
Boom, boom.
It was just this “boom, boom” that had sounded best of all to him. With every boom he struck the ground hard with his stick and made his voice as deep and strong as he could. He sang the song over and over again, till the forest fairly rang with it.
But then the way in which it had been composed was so out of the common! And the fact that this was the first and only time in his life he had been able to catch and carry a tune was in itself a proof of its merit.
The Seventeenth of August
The first time Jan of Ruffluck had gone to Lövdala on a seventeenth of August the visit had not passed off as creditably for him as he could have wished; so he had never repeated it, although he had been told that each year it was becoming more lively and festive at the Manor.
But now that the little girl had come up in the world, it was altogether different with him. He felt that it would be a great disappointment to Lieutenant Liljecrona if so exalted a personage as the Emperor Johannes of Portugallia did not do him the honour of wishing him happiness on his birthday.
So he donned his imperial regalia and sallied forth, taking good care not to be among the first arrivals. For him who was an emperor it was the correct thing not to put in an appearance until all the guests had made themselves quite at home, and the festivities were well under way.
Upon the occasion of his former visit he had not ventured farther than the orchard and the gravelled walk in front of the house. He had not even gone up to pay his respects to the host. But now he could not think of behaving so discourteously.
This time he made straight for the big bower at the left of the porch, where the lieutenant sat with a group of dignitaries from Svartsjö and elsewhere, grasped him by the hand, and wished him many happy returns of the day.
“So you’ve come out today, Jan,” said the lieutenant in a tone of surprise.
To be sure he was not expecting an honour like this, which probably accounted for his so far forgetting himself as to address the Emperor by his old name. Jan knew that so genial a man as the lieutenant could have meant no offense by that, therefore he corrected him in all meekness.
“We must make allowances for the lieutenant,” he said, “since this is his birthday; but by rights we should be called Emperor Johannes of Portugallia.”
Jan spoke in the gentlest tone possible, but just the same the other gentlemen all laughed at the lieutenant for having made such a bad break. Jan had never intended to cause him humiliation on his birthday, so he promptly dismissed the matter and turned to the others. Raising his cap with an imperial flourish, he said:
“Go’-day, go’-day, my worthy Generals and Bishops and Governors.” It was his intention to go around and shake hands with everybody, as one is expected to do at a party.
Nearest the lieutenant sat a short, stocky man in a white cloth jacket, with a gold-trimmed collar, and a sword at his side, who, when Jan stepped up to greet him did not offer his whole hand, but merely held out two fingers. The man’s intentions may have been all right, but of course a potentate like Emperor Johannes of Portugallia knew he must stand upon his dignity.
“I think you will have to give me your whole hand, my good Bishop and Governor,” he said very pleasantly, for he
