Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - Cousin Kristoffer
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Countess herself burning there. Or, he may have
felt that, inasmuch as the woman he had idolized
was, after all, but straw and rags, nothing else
mattered.
He returned to the cavaliers’ wing, rekindled the
fire, put away his uniform, and once again settled
down in his chimney-corner. With each passing day
he grew more listless, more grey and shaggy, dying
by degrees, as do eagles in captivity.
Though no longer a captive, he did not care to
make use of his freedom. All the world was open to
him; the battlefield, honor, life awaited him; but he
had not the strength to spread his wings for flight.
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