Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - The Pilgrim of God
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“Faugh, you scoundrel!” cried the Captain,
“don’t you think I know it was n’t God who
rescued your head from the block?”
The others laughed, but Sintram was not at all
angry. He had no dislike of people hinting about
his dealings with the devil.
Well, and so they carried Captain Lennert indoors
again to drink to his arrival; he might go home
immediately after that. But things went wrong; he
had not tasted any strong drink for five years; he
had probably not eaten anything all day, and he
was tired out with his long journey. The consequence
was he became confused after the first few
glasses.
When the cavaliers had got him so far that he no
longer knew what he was doing, they insisted on
his taking more, and they had no bad intention in
doing this—it was due to a kindly impulse toward
the man who had tasted nothing good for five years.
Otherwise he was one of the soberest of men,
and, of course, he had had no intention of getting
drunk just then—on his way home to wife and
children. Instead of that, he lay on the bench in the
tap-room and fell asleep.
And as he lay there, temptingly unconscious,
Gösta took up a bit of charcoal and a little cranberry
juice and painted his face. He made it a real
malefactor’s visage; he thought it just suited a man
straight from prison. He gave him a black eye, drew
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