KAREN. A STORY OF JUTLAND.

Waikato Times, Volume XXII, Issue 1797, 12 January 1884, Page 1 (Supplement)

KAREN. A STORY OF JUTLAND.

BY MINNIE WfUtD^ATTBBSON , " / l 'T^eke was oiice in Krarup Inn,- a girl whose name was Karen. She, attended to the guests, alone, for the inn-keeper's wife spent jnost, of 1 'her time in search, of her keys. Apd many' pame to.Krarup" Inn, ( bp,th peopletfroni'tthe! ;viouiity .Iwho^ga^herejd in r the dusk; otsthej autiunn I ,a'pd BaX.i^iih&.cfinunonroomi drinkmg'cofiee-punch,* usually without any'

Iciiniio design, and havellars and wayfarer* who came tramping in, blue an'd ibreathless, to get something warm to keep their spirits up till they reached the next inn. But Karen was always equal to the occasion, though she went about very quietly and never seemed to be in a hurry. She was slender and small, quite young, serious and silent, so the commercial traveller did not find her particularly entertaining ; but honest folk who came to the inn in an earnest fashion, and who thought much of having the coffee served quickly and scalding hot, thought all the more of Kaien. And as she glided around among the guests with her tray, the heavy, coarsely clad men moved aside with unaccustomed alacrity, to make way for her, and the conversation ceased for a moment, for all eyes must follow her, so graceful was she. Karen's eyes were of that dark gray kind^ which at the same time appear to see, and to see far, far past, and the eyebrows weie arched high as though in surprise. For this reason strangers were wont to think she did not rightly understand what they asked for. But she understood well, and made no mistakes. Still there was something strange about her, as though' she was looking far away after something or was listening— or waiting— or dreaming. Across the low plains came the wind from the west. It had rolled long, heavy billows across the western sea, and salt, and wet with scum and froth, it had hurled itself in upon the chore. But up on the high downs, with the long Iyme grass, it was dry and full of sand and a little tired, so by the time it came io Krarup Inn, it was all it could do to open the huge doors of the traveller's stable. But open they flew, and the wind, filling the great spaces, pressed through the kitchen door, svhich was standing ajar, and at last there was such a pressure of air that the doors at the farther end of the stable also burst' open. And now the west wind rq&hed triumparatly through, swinging the lantern which hung from the roof, taking the hat off from the hostler and whirling it out into the darkness, blowing the blankets over the heads of the horses, and blowing a white hen down from her perch and up into the watering trough. Then the, rooster uplifted his voice in a frightful screech, the hastier swore, the poultry shrieked, and all in the kitchen were smothering With smoke, and the horses, becoming impatient, raako the sparks fly from the stones. Even the ducks, which had crowded together near the mangers in order to be the first at the spilled corn, began to gabble, and the wind roared through with an infernal din until a couple of men-came out from the inn room, put their backs against the doora and crowded them shut again, while the sparks from their huge tobacco pipes were blown into their beards. After these exploits the wind hurled itself down into the heather, ran along the deep ditches and wrestled a round or twowith the mail coach, which it chanced upon half a mile from the inn. " A devilish piece of work. I always have to get to Krarup Inn ! " growled Anders, the postillion, as he cracked his whip over the sweaty horses. For certainly twenty times had the mail-guard opened the 'window, to shout something or other up to him. First it had been a friendly invitation to a coffeepunch at the inn, but little by little the friendliness became 1e33 marked and the ■window went down with a bang, while some concise remarks about the horses and driver, not at all nattering to the cars of Anders, were ejaculated. Then the wind swept low along the ground breathing long, strange sighs among the heather bushes. The moon was full, but thickly overclouded, so that only a whitish, I hazy gleam hung over the night. Behind Krarup Inn lay a peat bog, dark with black piles of peat and deep, dangerous holes. And in among the knolls of heather wound a strip of grass, looking something like a road, but it was not a road, fsr it stopped just at the edge of a turf pit, which was larger than the others, and deeper too. Bat, very flat on the strip of grass, the wolf lay lurking, while on light foot the hare bounded over the heather. It was easy for the wolf to calculate that the hare would not run a large circle so late in the evening. Cautiously it lifted its sharp muzzle and made an estimate ; then, as it slirunk back, following the wind, to find a good place from which it could eeo where the hare would close the circle and lie down, it-complacently reflected how wolves continually become more knowing, and hares continually more and more Btupid. ' Within the inn there was unusual bustle, for a couple of commercial travellers had ordered roast hare. Moroqver,l,he inn-keeper was at a sale in Thisted, and madam was never accustomed to attending to anything but the kitchen. And now, too, it must very unluckily transpire that the lawyer should want to see the inn-keeper, and as he was not at home, madam was obliged to receive a long explanation, and an extremely important letter which utterly confused her. By the stove stood a stranger in oilskins, waiting for a bottle of soda-water : two fishbuyers had three times ordered cognac for their coffee : the innkeeper's man stood with an empty lantern, waiting for a candle, and a tall raw-boned peasant, who was to 1 have change far a crown, followed Karen anxiously with his eyes. But Karen went to and fro, without hurrying, and without being confused. One would I scarcely believe that she could keep all this clear in. her mind. The large eyes and the wondering eyebrows seemed strained in expectation. The little, finely-shaped head she held fixedly, and calmly, a3 though trying not to be confused in all that she had to think about. Her blue linsey-woolsey dress had become too small for her, so that the neckband cut in a little, and formed a slight fold in the delicate skin of her neck, below the hair. " These upland girls are very fair-skinned," said one of the fish-buyers. , They were young people, and talked about Karen like connoisseurs." A man over by the window, looking at the clock, said : " The post gets here early this evening." It rumbled over the stones of the bridge outside; the doors of the travellers' stable were thrown open, and the wind rattled things £gain, and beat the smoke out of the stoves. Karen glided out' into the kitchen just as the inn door. opened. The mail-guard walked in and bade " Good evening." He was a tall, handsome man, with dark eyes, black, curly beard, and a little kinky head. The long, rich cloak, of the ' King of Denmark's .gorgeous jed cloth, was ornamentei over the shoulders with a" broad collar of curly dogskin. All the meagre light from theiwo/paraffine lamps hanging above the inn table seemed to throw; themselves enamored upon the red color,* which contrasted go strongly with all the gray and black in the room. And the tall form, with the little, kinky head, the broad collar, and tie long purple-red folds, as he- walked through' tKe low, sm,oky"inn room, was a' marvel of beauty and magnificence. Karen quickly came in from the kitchen with her tray. -Her head was bowed so one could not see Her face, as' she hastened from guest to guest. ' ' ~ The roast hare atie'placed -before the two fish-buyers, and then she brought a. bottle of I soda water tothe ! two cdmmerci&f'travellers,who were sitting in anit'djoiiimg'rodm. Next she .gjJVe.tb.6 anxious peasant a follow- candle, .and put sixty-three-ore in, ihe t hand of the stranger by tne stokers' r ' ' xi -" ' w>! '- ' < Thfr inn-keeper's wife was at her wits' end.

To ba sure, she had quite unexpectedly found the keys, but had immediately lost the lawyer's letter, and now the whole inn was in the most frightful uproar; no one had received what he had ordered, all were vociferating at once, the commercial travellers ringing the table bell incessantly, the fiah-buyere laugking themselves almost to death rjver the hare, which lay sprawling on the dish before th«n, but the anxious peasant tapped Madam o* the shoulder with his candle— mad as a Turk. And, in all this hopeless confusion, Karen had tracklessly vanished. * * * * Anders, the postillion, again sat on the box, and the inn-keeper's boy stood ready to open the great doors. * The two travellers in the coach became impatient, and the horse?, too. though they had nothing to look forward with pleasure to, and the wind rattled and whistled through the stable. At last the mail-guard, ior whom they. Were waiting, came. He carried his large cloak on his arm as he stepped over the coa*ch, and made a little apology for having Jtept them waiting. The lantern shone in his face. B> appeared to be very warm, and in fact said that he was, with a smile, as he drew on the cloak ,and mounted with the coachman. The doors swung open and the mail-coach rumbled away. Anders let the horses go leisurely— of course there was no more hurry now. Once in awhile he cast a furtive look at the mail-guaid by his side, who still eat, as at first, smiling into the distance, letting the wind, run riot in his hair. , - Anders, the postillion, smiled also, in his fashion. He began to understand. The wind followed the *>ach to the bend of the road, when it again hurled itself in upon the plain, and whistled and sighed very long and strangely among the dry heather bubhes. The wolf lay at his post. Everything had been calculated with the greatest accuracy. The hare must soon be there. Within the inn, Karen had at last come to light again, and the o'onfusion was by degrees quieted. The anxious peasant got rid of his candle and got his sixty- three ore, and the commercial travellers had put themselves outside of the roast. Madame fretted a little, but she never scolded Karen. There was not a being in the world who could scold Karen. Quietly and without hurry she again walked to and fro, and the peaceful comfort which al ways followed her again spread over the snug half-dark inn-room. But the two fish-buyers, who had added cognac to cognac with their coffee, were quite overwhelmed with her. A flush had come to her cheeks, and a little, half. hidden glimpse of a smiie; and when, one single time, she raised her glance, it thrilled them through and through. But when she felt that their eyes were following her she went into the room where the commercial travellers sat eating, and began to rub some teaspoons on,the sideboard. "Did you observe th.c maiJ-<juard ? " asked one of the travellers. " No— l only caughtja glimpse of him— you know he went out a&ain immediately," r«plied the other, with his mouth full. # " The deuce you didn't 1 Well, I danced at his weeding." " Indeed I Is he married ? " "Of course 1 His wife lives in Lemoig. They have as many as two «hildren. She was the daughter of the inn-keeper in Ulstrup, and I happened there just the evening of the wedding. It was a jolly night, you'd better believe 1 " Karen laid down the teaspoons and went out. She did not hear what they called out to her in the inn-room. She went over the yard to her chamber, shut the door and begari half unconsciously to arrange the bed clothes. ' Her eyes stood fixed in the darkness. She pressed her hands to her head, she pressed them to her heart. She moaned, she did not understand — she did not understand. But when she heard madam very pitifully cry out : " Karen 1 Little Karen 1 " then she sprang up out of the yard, around behind the house — out upon the heath. In the dim light, the little strip of glass wound among the heather, looking something like a road, but it was not a road ; no one must think it was a road, for it led straight to the margin of the large turf pit. The hare sprang up. It had heard a splash. It bounded oi? like mad, in long leaps, now contracted, with legs drawn under and back arched ; now outstretched, incredibly long, it flew like the wind over the heather. The wolf thrust up its sharp muzzle and gazed in astonishment after the hare, for it had not heard any splash. Slinking along at the bottom of a deep ditch, it had followed all the rule 3 of the art ; and, not being conscious of any mistake, it would not comprehend tha conduct of the hare. A long time it stood with it 3 head uplifted, the rear of its body lying low and the big, bushy tail hidden in the heather, and ie began to ponder, whether it was that hares were becoming more knowing or thaD wolves were becoming more stupid. But when the west wind had run a lonj.' way, it changed into a north wind, afterward to ail east wind, then to a south wind, and, closing its circle, came again over the sea as a west wind, hurling itself in upon the downs, and sighing very long and strangely among the dry heather bushes. Then there were two, wondering gray eyes wanting in Krarup Inn, and a blue linseywoolsey dress that had become too small. And the inn-keeper's wife fretted more than ever. She could not understand it — no one could understand it— except Ander3, the postillion, and one other. But, when old people wanted to give very serious admonition to the young, they were wont to begin thus : <f ~There was once, in Krarup Inn, a girl, whoso name was Karen."