Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - The Old Carriages
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with the millers and the carters in the lower story
of the water-mill, and had consulted with the
blacksmiths in the dark forges.
They had all sworn to help her. The honor and
glory of the old estate should not be left any longer
in the hands of the careless cavaliers, to be guarded
by them as the wind cherishes the ashes and the
wolf the sheepfold.
And on the night when the gay gentlemen had
danced and laughed and drunk, till, dead tired, they
had thrown themselves on their beds, on that night
they were to be turned out of Ekeby.
She let them enjoy themselves. She sat in the
forge and waited for the conclusion of the ball. She
had waited even longer, till the cavaliers returned
from their expedition, waiting in silent expectation
till it was told her that the last light had been
extinguished in the cavaliers’ wing and that the great
house slept. Then she arose and went out. It was
already five o’clock in the morning, but the dark
starlit February night still hung over the earth.
The Major’s wife commanded that all the people
should assemble round the cavaliers’ wing; she went
herself to the chief entrance, knocked, and was ad-
mitted. The young daughter of the Broby parson,
whom she had brought up to be a trusty servant,
met her.
“My lady is heartily welcome,” she said, and
kissed her hand.
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