第 38 节
作者:浮游云中      更新:2021-02-20 16:28      字数:9322
  step; and spoke many a cheery word to tho bride; who walked; silent and
  with downcast eyes; at his side。           She wore the ancestral bridal crown on
  her head; and the little silver disks around its edge tinkled and shook as
  she walked。       They hailed her with firing of guns and loud hurrahs as she
  stepped into the boat; still she did not raise her eyes; but remained silent。
  A  small   cannon;   also   an   heir…loom   in   the   family;   was   placed   amidships;
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  TALES FROM TWO HEMISPHERES。
  and   Truls;   with   his   violin;   took   his   seat   in   the   prow。 A  large   solitary
  cloud;   gold…rimmed   but   with   thunder   in   its   breast;   sailed   across   the   sky
  and threw its shadow over the bridal boat as it was pushed out from the
  shore; and the shadow fell upon the bride's countenance too; and when she
  lifted it; the mother of the bridegroom; who sat opposite her; shrank back;
  for the countenance looked hard; as if carved in stonein the eyes a mute;
  hopeless appeal; on the lips a frozen prayer。            The shadow of thunder upon
  a   life   that   was   openingit   was   an   ill   omen;  and   its gloom  sank   into   the
  hearts    of  the   wedding     guests。    They     spoke    in  undertones      and   threw
  pitying glances at the bride。        Then at length Syvert Stein lost his patience。
  〃In sooth;〃 cried he; springing up from his seat; 〃where is to…day the
  cheer that is wont to abide in the Norseman's breast?                 Methinks I see but
  sullen   airs   and   ill…boding   glances。    Ha;   fiddler;   now   move   your   strings
  lustily!    None   of   your   funeral   airs;   my   lad;   but   a   merry   tune   that   shall
  sing through marrow and bone; and make the heart leap in the bosom。〃
  Truls   heard   the   words;   and   in   a   slow;   mechanical   way   he   took   the
  violin out of its case and raised it to his chin。            Syvert in the mean while
  put a huge silver beer…jug to his mouth; and; pledging his guests; emptied
  it even to the dregs。       But the bride's cheek was pale; and it was so still in
  the boat that every man could hear his own breathing。
  〃Ha; to…day  is   Syvert   Stein's wedding…day!〃   shouted   the bridegroom;
  growing hot with wrath。           〃Let us try if the iron voice of the cannon can
  wake my guests from their slumber。〃
  He struck a match and put it to the touch… hole of the cannon; a long
  boom rolled away over the surface of the waters and startled the echoes of
  the distant   glaciers。     A  faint   hurrah sounded   from  the   nearest   craft;   but
  there came no response from the bridal boat。                Syvert pulled the powder…
  horn from his pocket; laughed a wild laugh; and poured the whole contents
  of the horn into the mouth of the cannon。
  〃Now may the devil care for his own;〃 roared he; and sprang up upon
  the row…bench。        Then there came a low murmuring strain as of wavelets
  that ripple against a sandy shore。           Borghild lifted her eyes; and they met
  those of the fiddler。
  〃Ah; I think I should rather be your bridegroom;〃 whispered she; and a
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  TALES FROM TWO HEMISPHERES。
  ray of life stole into her stony visage。
  And she saw herself as a little rosy…cheeked girl sitting at his side on
  the   beach   fifteen   years   ago。   But   the   music   gathered   strength   from   her
  glance; and onward it rushed through the noisy years of boyhood; shouting
  with    wanton     voice   in  the   lonely   glen;   lowing    with   the   cattle  on   the
  mountain pastures; and leaping like the trout at eventide in the brawling
  rapids;   but   through   it   all   there   ran   a   warm   strain   of   boyish   loyalty   and
  strong devotion; and it thawed her frozen heart; for she knew that it was
  all for her and for her only。          And it seemed such a beautiful thing; this
  long   faithful   life;   which   through   sorrow   and   joy;   through   sunshine   and
  gloom; for better for worse; had clung so fast to her。              The wedding guests
  raised their heads; and a murmur of applause ran over the waters。
  〃Bravo!〃 cried the bridegroom。           〃Now at last the tongues are loosed。〃
  Truls's gaze dwelt with tender sadness on the bride。               Then came from
  the strings some airy quivering chords; faintly flushed like the petals of the
  rose; and fragrant like lilies of the valley; and they swelled with a strong;
  awakening life; and rose with a stormy fullness until they seemed on the
  point of bursting; when again they hushed themselves and sank into a low;
  disconsolate      whisper。     Once     more    the   tones   stretched    out  their   arms
  imploringly;   and   again   they   wrestled   despairingly   with   themselves;   fled
  with a stern voice of warning; returned once more; wept; shuddered; and
  were silent。
  〃Beware that thou dost not play with a life!〃 sighed the bride; 〃even
  though it be a worthless one。〃
  The wedding guests clapped their hands and shouted wildly against the
  sky。    The bride's countenance burned with a strange feverish glow。                    The
  fiddler arose in the prow of the boat; his eyes flamed; he struck the strings
  madly;  and   the   air   trembled   with   melodious   rapture。      The   voice   of   that
  music no living tongue can interpret。            But the bride fathomed its meaning;
  her    bosom      labored     vehemently;      her    lips   quivered     for   an   instant
  convulsively; and she burst into tears。           A dark suspicion shot through the
  bridegroom's   mind。       He stared intently upon the weeping Borghild   then
  turned his gaze to the fiddler; who; still regarding her; stood playing; with
  a half…frenzied look and motion。
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  TALES FROM TWO HEMISPHERES。
  〃You    cursed    wretch!〃    shrieked    Syvert;   and   made    a  leap  over   two
  benches to where Truls was standing。             It came so unexpectedly that Truls
  had no time to prepare for defense; so he merely stretched out the hand in
  which he held the violin to ward off the blow which he saw was coming;
  but   Syvert   tore   the   instrument   from   his   grasp   and   dashed   it   against   the
  cannon;      and;   as  it  happened;     just   against   the   touch…hole。     With     a
  tremendous   crash   something   black   darted   through   the   air   and   a   white
  smoke   brooded   over   the   bridal   boat。      The   bridegroom   stood   pale   and
  stunned。     At his feet lay Borghild lay for a moment still; as if lifeless;
  then   rose   on   her   elbows;   and   a   dark   red   current   broke   from   her   breast。
  The smoke scattered。         No one saw how it was done; but a moment later
  Truls; the Nameless; lay kneeling at Borghild's side。
  〃It WAS a worthless life; beloved;〃 whispered he; tenderly。                 〃Now it
  is at an end。〃
  And he lifted her up in his arms as one lifts a beloved child; pressed a
  kiss on her pale lips; and leaped into the water。             Like lead they fell into
  the sea。     A throng of white bubbles whirled up to the surface。                 A loud
  wail rose from the bridal fleet; and before the day was at an end it filled
  the valley; but the wail did not recall Truls; the Nameless; or Borghild his
  bride。
  What life denied them; would to God that death may yield them!
  ASATHOR'S VENGEANCE。
  I。
  IT   was   right   up   under   the   steel   mountain   wall   where   the   farm   of
  Kvaerk   lay。    How   any   man   of   common   sense   could   have   hit   upon   the
  idea of building a house there; where none but the goat and the hawk had
  easy access; had been; and I am afraid would ever be; a matter of wonder
  to the parish people。       However; it was not Lage Kvaerk who had built the
  house;     so   he   could    hardly    be   made     responsible     for  its  situation。
  Moreover; to move from a place where one's life has once struck deep root;
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  TALES FROM TWO HEMISPHERES。
  even if it be in the chinks and crevices of stones and rocks; is about the
  same as to destroy it。        An old tree grows but poorly in a new soil。                So
  Lage Kvaerk thought; and so he said; too; whenever his wife Elsie spoke
  of her sunny home at the river。
  Gloomy as Lage usually was; he had his brighter moments; and people
  noticed that these were most like