A great sense of lassitude came over him. Unable to sit up any longer, he slipped down off the stone and stretched himself out on the ground. He felt it was hardly fair to Katrina not to let her know what was taking place. But Katrina had gone to the seine-maker’s party and was not back yet. If he only had the strength to drag himself thither! He would have liked to say a word of farewell to Ol’ Bengtsa, too. He was very glad when he presently saw Katrina coming down the lane, accompanied by the seine-maker. He wanted to call out to them to hurry, but not a sound could he get past his lips. Shortly afterward the two of them stood bending over him.
Katrina immediately ran for water and made him drink some; and then he got back just enough strength to tell them that the Last judgment was at hand.
“How you talk!” said Katrina. “The Last Judgment indeed! Why, you’ve got fever, man, and you’re out of your head.”
Then Jan turned to the seine-maker. “Can’t you see either that the firmament is sinking and sinking?”
The latter did not give him any reply, but turned instead to Katrina, saying:
“This is pretty serious. I think we’ll have to try the remedy we talked of on the way. I may as well go down to Falla at once.”
“But Lars will never consent to it.”
“Why you know that Lars has gone down to the tavern. I’m sure the old mistress of Falla will have the courage—”
Jan cut him short. He could not bear to hear them speak of commonplace matters when such momentous things were in the air.
“Stop talking,” he said. “Don’t you hear the last trump? Don’t you hear the rumbling up in the mountains?”
They paused a moment and listened, just to please Jan. And then they, too, heard a strange noise.
“There’s a wagon rattling along in the woods,” said Katrina. “What on earth can that mean?”
As the rumbling noise grew more and more distinct, their astonishment increased.
“And it’s Sunday, too!” observed Katrina. “Now if this were a weekday you could understand it; but who can it be that’s out driving in the woods on a Sunday night?”
She listened again. Then she heard the scraping of wheels against stones and the clatter of hoofs along the steep forest road.
“Do you hear?” asked Jan. “Do you hear?”
“Yes, I hear,” said Katrina. “But no matter who comes I’ve got to get the bed ready for you at once. It’s that I have to think of.”
“And I’m going down to Falla,” said the seine-maker. “That’s more important than anything else. Goodbye for the present.”
The old man hurried away while Katrina went in to prepare the bed; she was hardly inside the door when the rattling noise, which she and the seine-maker believed was caused by a common wagon, sounded as if it were almost upon them. To Jan it was the rumble of heavy war chariots, at whose approach the whole earth trembled. He called in a loud voice to Katrina, who came out immediately.
“Dear heart, don’t be so scared!” she said reassuringly. “I can see the horse now. It’s the old bay from Falla. Sit up and you’ll see it, too.” Slipping her hand under Jan’s neck she raised him to a sitting posture. Through the elder bushes at the edge of the road a horse could be seen running wildly in the direction of Ruffluck. “Don’t you see it’s only Lars Gunnarson driving home? He must have drunk himself full at the tavern, for he doesn’t seem to know which way he’s going.”
When Katrina said that a horse and wagon dashed by their gate. Both she and Jan noticed that the wagon was empty and the horse driverless.
All at once she let out a shriek: “Lord deliver us! Did you see him, Jan? He’s being dragged alongside the wagon!” Without waiting for a reply she rushed across the yard into the road, where the horse had just bolted past.
Jan let her go without a word. He was glad to be alone again. He had not yet found an answer to his query as to why the Empress was angry at him.
The bit of gilt paper now lay directly under his eyes. It glistened so that he had to look at it again and again. Meanwhile his thoughts went back to Mad Ingeborg—to the time when he had come upon her at the Borg landing. It struck him instantly that here was the answer he had been seeking. Now he knew what it was the little girl had been displeased about all this while. He had been unkind to Mad Ingeborg; he should never have refused to let her go along to Portugallia.
How could he ever have imagined anything so mean of the great Empress as that she would not want to have Mad Ingeborg with her! It was that kind that she liked best to help. No wonder she was angry! He ought to have known that the poor and unfortunate were always welcome in her kingdom.
There was very little that could be done in this matter if no tomorrow dawned, mused Jan. But what if there should be one? Ah, then he would go and talk with Mad Ingeborg first thing.
He closed his eyes and folded his hands. Anyway, it was a blissful relief to him that this anxiety had been stilled. Now it would not be nearly so hard to die. He had no idea as to how much time had elapsed before he again heard Katrina’s voice close to him.
“Jan, dear, how do you feel now? You’re not going to die and leave me, are you?”
Katrina sounded so doleful that he had to look up at her. Then he saw in her hand the imperial stick and the green leather cap.
“I asked the folks down at Falla to let me take these to you,” she explained. “I told them that
