Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - The Paths of Life
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features, and at last he thought of nothing but the
woman sitting at the edge of the waves.
“It is the mermaid from the Löfven who has risen
in the river here to tempt me to destruction,” he
thought. “She sits there and calls and calls to me;
I must go and drive her away.”
The white-crested waves seemed to be her vassals;
she excited and drove them in their attacks on
him.
“I really must drive her away,” he repeated. And
he caught up a boat-hook, sprang on shore, and
hurried in her direction.
He left his place at the end of the breakwater to
drive that apparition away. In that moment of
excitement it seemed as if the powers of the deep were
fighting with him, and he felt obliged to drive away
that dark figure sitting on the stone by the river
bank.
Oh, Gösta, why was your place vacant at the critical
moment? They were bringing the improvised
dam; a long row of men stood on the breakwater;
they had ropes and stones and sandbags in readiness
to weigh it down and hold it in place; they were
ready, waited, and listened. Where was the leader?
Where was the voice of command?
No, Gösta Berling had followed the mermaid; his
voice was silent, and no one heard his command.
So the work was continued without him—the
waves swept aside, the heavy timbers plunged
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