Full resolution (TIFF) - On this page / på denna sida - Chapter IV. The Journey. -- A little Adventure.
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stepping to the left, he passed through the court-yard and
entered the kitchen. Here, however, he stayed his progress,
mute with astonishment, for a scene here presented itself, that
made a deep impression on his already excited imagination, and
which, even after the most manifold adventures of many future
years, never vanished from his memory.
Near the hearth stood a slender woman, with a child in her
armas, and stirred the contents of a milk-pot with a spoon. On
her small hand, the skin of which seemed to Ivar to be whiter
even than the silver foam of the river, glittered precious rings,
the bright many-coloured gems of which reflected the light of the
crackling fire with redoubled splendour. When the fire streamed
up, if threw its reddish glare upon a pale countenance, that was
overshadowed by a pale blueness beneath her mild-appearing
eyes. The stranger was clothed in a black velvet dress, the
shape of which appeared even to Ivar, who was but little
acquainted with the fashion of ladies’ clothing, to be a pattern
made in foreign taste. It’s cape was bordered with a silver-grey
fringe, and fastened in front with a golden clasp, from which a
golden chain was suspended, which the child held in his little
hand, and mechanically played with it. The other extremity of
the chain was attached to her girdle by a large hook, and
retained the watch in it’s position. But what lent a peculiar charm
to the whole scene, in Ivar’s eyes, was a little shaggy yellow
dog that was lying at the lady’s feet, playing with the fringe of
her velvet dress.
Our hero could not decide whether the lady was beautiful or
not, although he looked long and earnestly af her pale face,
which scemed wet with tears. But this much he knew certainly,
and felt in his innermost heart, that, although she was entirely
unknown to him, he would have risked his life to render her a
service. For in her deep eyes there was something that exerted
a much more powerful influence over him than a black stormy
night, the delight of his heart.
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