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in explaining their thoughts about this matter. It
was very simple. “We, the Ekeby cavaliers, have
our own ideas about this affair. Count Dohna is
not worthy to be extolled in church, so we carry
him out. Any one who likes may convey him back
again.”
But he was not carried back. The pastor’s
gratitude was never expressed. The people poured out
of church, for every one thought the cavaliers had
done right.
They remembered the fair young Countess, who
had been so cruelly used at Borg; they
remembered how good she was to poor people, and how
sweet she was, and what a comfort it had been to
look at her. It was a pity to come with mad pranks
to church; but both pastor and people felt that they
had been on the point of making even worse sport
of the All-knowing God, and they stood abashed
before the barbarous old madmen.
“When men are silent, the stones bear witness,”
they said.
After this Count Dohna did not feel at ease at
Borg. One dark night in the beginning of August,
a covered calash drove up close to the old
staircase. All the servants stood about it, and Countess
Märta came out wrapped in shawls and with a close
veil over her face. The Count supported her, but
she trembled and shuddered. It was with the greatest
difficulty they could persuade her to cross the
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