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for the tears I shed In entreating Schärling to allow
me to come here and offer a prayer by my good
friend’s coffin?”
And he began to pull at the crape again.
Gösta Berling stepped up to him and caught at
his arm.
“I will give anything if you won’t touch the
coffin.”
“Do what you like,” said the madman. “Call for
help if you wish, I can still manage to do something
before the police come. Fight me if you like. It will
be a fine sight here in the churchyard. Let us fight
among the wreaths and the pall and the crape!”
“I will purchase peace for the dead at any price.
Take my life—take all!”
“You promise great things, my boy.”
“You can prove me!”
“Well, then, kill yourself!”
“I can do that, but the coffin must first be safely
under ground.”
So it was arranged. Sintram made Gösta swear
that he would not be alive twelve hours after
Captain Lennert’s funeral. “Then, I know, you will
never have time to be a good man,” he said.
This was easy for Gösta Berling to promise. He
was glad to be able to give his wife her freedom.
His stricken conscience had driven him on and
on till he was now wearied to death. The only thing
that distressed him was that he had promised the
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