“The dear little girl, the great Empress, isn’t she wonderful!” Jan said to himself. No sooner had he come to a realization of his sin and promised to atone for it, than she again granted him her grace and her favour.
He had such a marvellous feeling of lightness, as if a great weight had been lifted from him. The firmament had raised itself and let in air, at the same time drawing away the excessive heat. He was able to sit up now and fumble for the imperial regalia.
“Now you can have them for good and all,” said Katrina. “There’ll be no one to come and take them away from you, for Lars Gunnarson is dead.”
The Emperor’s Consort
Katrina of Ruffluck Croft came into the kitchen at Lövdala Manor with some spun wool. Lady Liljecrona herself received the yarn, weighed it, paid for it, and commended the old woman for her excellent work.
“It’s fortunate for you, Katrina, that you are such a good worker,” said Lady Liljecrona. “I dare say you have to earn the living for both yourself and the husband nowadays.”
Katrina drew herself up a bit and two pink spots came into her face, just over the sharp cheekbones.
“Jan does his best,” she retorted, “but he has never had the strength of a common labourer.”
“At any rate, he doesn’t seem to be working now,” said Lady Liljecrona. “I have heard that he only runs about from place to place, showing his stars and singing.”
Lady Liljecrona was a serious-minded and dutiful woman who liked industrious and capable folk like Katrina of Ruffluck. She had sympathy for her and wanted to show it. But Katrina continued to stand up for her husband.
“He is old and has had much sorrow these last years. He has need of a little freedom, after a lifetime of hard toil.”
“It’s well you can take your misfortune so calmly,” observed Lady Liljecrona somewhat sharply. “But I really think that you, with your good sense, should try to take out of Jan the ridiculous nonsense that has got into his head. You see, if this is allowed to go on it will end in his being shut up in a madhouse.”
Now Katrina squared her shoulders and looked highly indignant.
“Jan is not crazy,” she said. “But Our Lord has placed a shade before his eyes so he’ll not have to see what he couldn’t bear seeing. And for that one can only feel thankful.”
Lady Liljecrona did not wish to appear contentious. She thought it only right and proper for a wife to stand by her husband.
“Then, Katrina, everything is all right as it is,” she said pleasantly. “And don’t forget that here you will find work enough to keep you going the year around.”
And then Lady Liljecrona saw the stern, set old face in front of her soften and relax: all that had been bound in and held back gave way—grief and solicitude and love came breaking through, and the eyes overflowed.
“My only happiness is to work for him,” said the old woman. “He has become so wonderful with the years that he’s something more than just human. But for that I suppose they’ll come and take him away from me.”
Book IV
The Welcome Greeting
She had come! The little girl had come! It is hard to find words to describe so great an event.
She did not arrive till late in the autumn, when the passenger boats that ply Lake Löven had discontinued their trips for the season and navigation was kept up by only two small freight steamers. But on either of these she had not cared to travel—or perhaps she had not even known about them. She had come by wagon from the railway station to the Ashdales.
So after all Jan of Ruffluck did not have the pleasure of welcoming his daughter at the Borg pier, where for fifteen years he had awaited her coming. Yes, it was all of fifteen years that she had been away. For seventeen years she had been the light and life of his home, and for almost as long a time had he missed her.
It happened that Jan did not even have the good fortune to be at home to welcome Glory Goldie when she came. He had just stepped over to Falla to chat a while with the old mistress, who had now moved out of the big farmhouse and was living in an attic room in one of the cottages on the estate. She was one of many lonely old people on whom the Emperor of Portugallia peeped in occasionally, to speak a word of cheer so as to keep them in good spirits.
It was only Katrina who stood at the door and received the little girl on her homecoming. She had been sitting at the spinning wheel all day and had just stopped to rest for a moment, when she heard the rattle of a team down the road. It so seldom happened that anyone drove through the Ashdales that she stepped to the door to listen. Then she discovered that it was not a common cart that was coming, but a spring wagon. All at once her hands began to tremble. They had a way of doing that now whenever she became frightened or perturbed. Otherwise, she was well and strong despite her two and seventy years. She was only fearful lest this trembling of the hands should increase so that she would no longer be able to earn the bread for herself and Jan, as she had done thus far.
By this time Katrina had practically abandoned all hope of ever seeing the daughter again, and that day she had not even been in her thought. But instantly she heard the rumble of wagon wheels she knew for a certainty who
