^^^^^m
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT OF 
 FREDERIC THOMAS BLANCHARD
 
 'THE LIBRARY 
 
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 ^OS ANGELES 
 
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 77.
 
 KARINE
 
 TALES FROM FOREIGN LANDS. 
 
 UNIFORM IN STYLE AND PRICE. 
 
 —4 
 
 I. 
 
 Memories : A Story of German Love. Translated from 
 
 the German of Max Muller, by Geo. P. Upton. i6mo, 
 173 pages, gilt top. 
 
 II. 
 
 Graziella: A Story of Italian Love. Translated from 
 the French of A. df, Lamartine, by James B. Runnion, 
 i6mo, 235 pages, gilt top. 
 
 III. 
 
 Marie: A Story of Russian Love. From the Russian 
 of Alexander Pushkim, by Marie H. de Zielinska. 
 i6mo, 2 to pages, gilt top. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Madeleine : A Story of French Love. Translated from 
 the French of Jules Sandeau, by Franos Charlot. 
 i6mo, 244 pages, gilt top. 
 
 V. 
 
 Marianela : A Story of Spanish Love. Translated from 
 the Spanish of B. Perez Galdos, by Helen W. Lester. 
 i6mo, 243 pages, gilt top. 
 
 VI. 
 Cousin Phillis: A Story of English Love. By Mrs. 
 
 Gaskell. i6mo, 222 pages, gilt top. 
 
 VII. 
 Karine: A Story of Swedish Love. Translated fV-om 
 the German of Wilhelm Jensen, by Emma A. Endlich. 
 i6mo, 211 pages, gilt top.
 
 KARINE 
 
 A STORY OF SWEDISH LOVE 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN 
 
 OF 
 
 WILHELM j^JENSEN 
 
 BY 
 
 EMMA A. ENDLICH 
 
 CHICAGO 
 
 A. C. McCLURG AND COMPANY 
 
 1896
 
 Copyright 
 
 By a. C. McClurg & Co. 
 
 A. D. i8g6
 
 
 b'Kf^E - 
 
 K A R I N E. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 BEHOLD the Falls of Trollhatta ! For ages 
 they have thundered, — long before human 
 ears were near to hear the sound of falling waters. 
 Far over the rocks they scatter the glistening spray, 
 while, below, the troubled waters seethe and toss. 
 The child playing upon their brink becomes a man ; 
 time touches his hair with silver ; and when, at the 
 close of his life, he totters forth, leaning upon his 
 staff, he finds them the same as they were at its 
 beginning, — wreathed in flowers, like the spring- 
 time ; white as winter's snow. 
 
 It is well for him who would forget, to sit by the 
 waters of Trollhatta ; their roaring so stuns the ear 
 
 ir\viv'?^y
 
 8 KARINE. 
 
 that it cannot hear the voices of the past. They 
 approach, gently flowing, like the destiny of a 
 human soul, — peaceful, transparent, kissing the 
 nodding, overhanging grasses ; then a little eddy, 
 a swifter motion, — imperceptible, unheeded, — yet 
 the stillness, the clearness, have gone forever. 
 More hastily they flow, still more hastily are driven, 
 drawn, compelled, — until suddenly they plunge 
 headlong into the all-devouring abyss. 
 
 When the first human beings came hither from 
 the forests of the South, — flat- faced people, girded 
 with shaggy skins, pursuing the reindeer with spears 
 of flint, — the thunder of the Trollhatta was their 
 only greeting. We know not whether it was years 
 or centuries they dwelt upon its banks ; they left no 
 record of their deeds. Only the waves of the 
 Trollhatta whisper their story, — waves that were 
 stained with the blood of these men, shed by white- 
 faced conquerors who sailed across the Baltic in 
 clumsy ships. 
 
 Irresistibly, uncontrollably, the nations of Europe 
 hurried onward. Hymns of praise were sung to 
 Odin ; and his descendants came down upon the 
 earth to rule over Goths and Swedes. They were
 
 KARINE. 
 
 the Ynglings, and called themselves kings of 
 Upsala. Their fame also has perished. 
 
 Again the South brought forth a revolution, 
 new and world-stirring ; and again the Baltic car- 
 ried it northward. Far into the rocky fastnesses 
 of the Sneehattan flew the glad tidings of the Gospel 
 of Peace ; and a mighty race, the Folkungs, as- 
 cended the Swedish throne. Their kingdom grew 
 great and strong ; but with it grew fierce ambitions, 
 the lust of gain and of power. Bloody wars arose ; 
 and those who held the highest places in the 
 land were flung, crushed, into the deep, — like the 
 foaming waters of Trollhaita. 
 
 Then, across the narrow belt of sea that parts 
 Sweden from Zealand, came for the first time de- 
 scendants of the Norsemen, who upon these islands 
 had founded their sea-girt Viking home. A mighty 
 hand had united the Danish people ; and Sweden, 
 shorn of its strength by internal feuds, fell an easy 
 prey to the conqueror. At Falkoping, not far 
 from the Falls of Trollhatta, the nation surrendered 
 to a woman, and Margaret of Denmark laid victo- 
 rious hands upon Odin's descendants. 
 
 Deep and angry sounded the waters of Trollhatta,
 
 lO KARINE. 
 
 proclaiming at once the victor's triumph and 
 the shame of the vanquished. It was then that 
 Karl Kanutson grasped his sword, and cut asunder 
 the iron chains of Denmark. But the jealous lords 
 who came after him abolished royalty. The rule 
 passed into the hands of Sten Sture, and descended 
 to his son and grandson, who were acknowledged 
 as regents only. Sweden's glory and greatness 
 were a delusion, for over it lay the shadow of the 
 Union of Kalmar, forced upon it by Margaret, 
 and according to which the kings of Denmark 
 might rightfully wear the crowns of Sweden and 
 Norway. That heretofore none of her successors 
 had felt himself strong enough to claim his right, 
 misled the short-sighted Swedish nobles. 
 
 Again the waters of Trollhatta rolled forth with 
 ominous thunder-tones ; this time, to meet the 
 grandson of Margaret, when, sword in hand, he 
 stepped upon Swedish soil, to realize by force the 
 conditions of the treaty. After the bloody battle of 
 Brannkyrka, Christian II. fled before Sten Sture. 
 But he came again. Sten Sture fell ; and the kind, 
 firm hand, which, for his country's weal, had 
 checked the stubborn will of its nobles, lay bleed-
 
 KARINE. 1 1 
 
 ing in the dust. Laughing, Christian 11. reached 
 after the Swedish crown, which was more wilUngly 
 surrendered by the lords to him than to one of 
 their own number. He was crowned in the church 
 at StockhohTi. Then he received the Holy Sacra- 
 ment, and swore an oath, both to guard the Swedish 
 constitution, and to take no vengeance for the 
 past. 
 
 For three November days there was great re- 
 joicing in the streets of Stockholm. Night was 
 turned into day, and in the king's palace the lights 
 burned until sunrise. There the Swedish nobles 
 drained cup after cup in honor of their most cour- 
 teous king. Smiling, Christian walked through 
 the wine-drinking, joy-bewildered crowd ; em- 
 braced the bishops, kissed the councillors, and 
 warmly pressed the hand of the burgomaster of 
 Stockholm. Then the king clapped his hands and 
 sang a merry song in honor of his guests. 
 
 Fair and lovely was that November day in the 
 year 1520. The setting sun gilded the red roofs 
 of Stockholm, and threw crimson lights upon the 
 smooth surface of Malar Lake. Deep peace, the
 
 12 KARINE. 
 
 peace of the dying year, seemed to brood over 
 Sweden's capital, the stihness contrasting strangely 
 with the noisy merry-making so lately heard in the 
 streets. 
 
 Even now, with five times as many inhabitants 
 as then, the inland districts of Sweden are but 
 thinly settled. The lakes, the rugged mountain 
 solitudes, remain unchanged ; but between them 
 lie broad acres of fertile land, which in those days 
 was scarcely more than a desert. The great lakes, 
 the Malar, Hjelmar, and Wener, stretch their 
 vast lengths from east to west, almost the entire 
 width of the land ; and southward lies the mighty 
 Lake Wetter. Between them, smiling valleys alter- 
 nate with rocky cliffs ; sombre pine-forests with 
 bright beech-groves ; over all, as over the roofs of 
 the capital, lie the slanting rays of the setting sun, 
 mild, as with a premonition of springtime. It 
 shone upon the silent waters of Hjelmar; upon 
 the long waves of Malar, which plashed gently 
 against the stone steps of the palace at Stockholm ; 
 upon pointed village spires ; upon turrets and 
 battlements of lonely castles, that rose above the 
 shining waters and autumnal forests ; farther west-
 
 KARINE. 13 
 
 ward, upon the ocean-like expanse and the count- 
 less islands of Lake Wener, from whose southern 
 extremity the Gota-Elf rushes forth to meet the 
 Cattegat. 
 
 Then come the Falls of Trollhatta. 
 
 The boatman upon Lake Wener, when the air 
 is still, can hear its notes of warning ; and high up 
 in the air, the startled birds suddenly turn aside in 
 their flight. The uproar increases as we approach, 
 until the ear is stunned, and the eye confusedly 
 beholds the foaming mass, as it plunges over preci- 
 pices into the frightful chasm below. A bed of 
 naked granite receives it. Walls, steep-rising as 
 if built by giant hands, force the wild, unbridled 
 torrent into its narrow channel. Here and there, 
 in a cleft of the rock, a lonely tree has taken root, 
 and sways before the evening wind. 
 
 Over Lake Wener a breeze blew in gentle gusts, 
 over the moss-grown rocks at the head of the 
 cataract, and, in passing, stripped with soft, 
 invisible hands the last leaves from their branches. 
 
 Rocky ground, scantily covered with moss and 
 heather, reached upward from the brink of the 
 Trollhatta, a hundred feet or more, to the barren
 
 14 KARINE. 
 
 summit, upon which stood three soHtary trees, 
 waving their leafless branches against the evening 
 sky. Here and there bare rocks rose from the 
 ground, shaped hke huge tables and rude seats of 
 giants ; and from one of these a hand was 
 stretched forth to catch a fluttering leaf, — a 
 small hand, with fine, transparent fingers. A 
 round white arm, as if formed of luminous marble, 
 was lifted up against the horizon. Was it Freya, 
 perchance, come to seek for Odur, and sitting 
 upon the hoary giant's seat? Was it she of whom 
 the poets sang of old, that in her eyes lay the light of 
 eternal springtime ? A golden light seemed to come 
 from the hair that fell from the parting down to the 
 rugged stone. The setting sun threw its last rays 
 upon it until one could scarcely distinguish where 
 the golden threads ended and the sun began. Who 
 was she? Had she risen from the depths of the 
 Trollhatta, to bathe her fair brow in the rosy even- 
 ing light? Had she grown cold down yonder, that 
 she needs must rise and warm herself in the ruddy 
 glow of life, before a long winter should bind her 
 fast in icy fetters ? Not so. Her hair might indeed 
 turn into liquid gold, arms and brow might harden
 
 KARINE. 15 
 
 into gleaming alabaster; but no gem lies hid- 
 den in the deep places of the earth from which na- 
 ture's magic could fashion such eyes, — eyes that 
 belonged to our world, and to the northern sky, 
 which had lent them its mysterious light, its nameless 
 charm of mingled mirth and sadness. 
 
 She rose, and the shadow of her tall figure fell 
 across the torrent. A long* garment fell from her 
 half-bared throat to her feet. Somewhat after the 
 fashion of a Grecian tunic, it was folded across the 
 bosom, and the girdle which confined it was curi- 
 ously wrought in threads of gold and silver. Nar- 
 row bands, passing over the shoulders, supported 
 this graceful dress, and from beneath them flowed 
 sleeves of spotless linen. No living being besides 
 was in sight. The wind grew stronger, bending 
 the branches of the trees, and stirring the low 
 brushwood that grew along the river's edge. It 
 blew in sudden gusts, shaking the dry leaves, and 
 as suddenly ceased. Only in one spot the motion 
 continued. It seemed as if an aspen were quiver- 
 ing among the bushes, and moving down the hill- 
 side toward the river. But the keenest ear could 
 not have heard, and none but the most observant
 
 1 6 KARINE. 
 
 eye have seen the motion. For a moment it 
 seemed as if the young girl had perceived it. She 
 turned from the sinking sun, and looked up the 
 stream ; but the fiery ball had blinded her eyes, 
 and the wind, blowing from Lake Wener, again 
 shook the yellow leaves. Again it brought some- 
 thing, — not a dead leaf this time, but a rare 
 butterfly, with crimson spots upon its snow-white 
 wings. Vainly struggling, it was borne past her 
 toward the water. For a moment she hesitated, 
 then, by a sudden impulse, ran lightly down the 
 steep hillside. 
 
 About fifty steps away, precisely where the 
 aspen at that moment seemed to be trembling 
 among the bushes, a head was lifted above the 
 brown leaves ; two clear gray eyes gazed with 
 dismay at the white figure, hurrying down the 
 dangerous slope, and a pair of strong arms parted 
 the branches so violently that the crackling was 
 distinctly audible by the river-side. But in her 
 anxiety to save the butterfly, the girl heard nothing. 
 Again and again she stretched out her hand to 
 grasp it ; but, fearful of hurting the delicate creature, 
 the slender fingers missed their hold. Farther
 
 KARINE. 1 7 
 
 down it fluttered, and more dangerous grew the 
 steep path. The gray eyes, which had meanwhile 
 come nearer, saw the danger, — a crumbUng stone, 
 a misstep, and she would be carried down into the 
 wild waters. In vain his loud and angry cry of 
 warning ; in vain her endeavor to save the life 
 which the TroUhatta seemed to draw with irresis- 
 tible force. For a moment 'the butterfly struggled 
 against the spray, then fell exhausted, with folded 
 wings, upon the water, when the girl's outstretched 
 hand caught and held it. But at the same time 
 the tuft of grass that supported her yielded 
 under her knees. Uttering a low cry, she vainly 
 reached behind. A great wave rolled toward 
 her ; the treacherous grass sank more and more. 
 " Gustav ! " she cried in terror, " Gustav ! " 
 " I am here ; " and wildly the man leaped over 
 the last bushes, stumbled, and struck the ground 
 near the river's edge. But his right hand, clutch- 
 ing the soil, held him, while his left caught the 
 careless girl, dragging her with superhuman 
 strength from the perilous brink. Aided by 
 his grasp, she quickly regained her footing, and 
 with wonder and gratitude turned to look at her
 
 1 8 KARINE. 
 
 deliverer. She half held out her hand, but drew 
 it back as she met his look of undisguised ad- 
 miration. He seemed to be about thirty years 
 old; his irregular but clearly cut features wore 
 an expression of strength and energy foreign to 
 the usual Swedish type. Dark hair fell carelessly 
 over his forehead, and his clothing told of fierce 
 struggles with briers and hedges. At the young 
 girl's hesitation, an angry, scornful look came into 
 his face. 
 
 " Is your life not worth the trouble of thanking 
 the preserver of it? " he asked. 
 
 His tone was more annoying even than his 
 words. A crimson flush rose to the cheeks of 
 the girl. She proudly lifted her head and an 
 equally caustic reply hovered on her lips. But in 
 a moment she felt that in the form and not 
 in the words lay the rudeness, and that, indeed, 
 had it not been for his strong arm she would 
 not have been standing before him at that minute, 
 so she replied, — 
 
 " I thought you were — " 
 
 He interrupted her. " You called me : I heard 
 you ; and I saw that without my help you would
 
 KARINE. 19 
 
 perish, — you and the creature you so fooHshly 
 sought to save. You know this ; and you know, 
 furthermore, that according to the custom of our 
 land I have the right to kiss your lips ; and that 
 I am very forbearing to claim no other reward 
 than this." With these words he caught her hand 
 and kissed it. 
 
 She looked him calmlj' in the face, then cast 
 down her eyes ; there was something in the 
 stranger's manner that forbade resistance. As 
 he held her hand, she glanced down at the other, 
 where the butterfly was carefully stretching his 
 long antennae as he crept from between the shelter- 
 ing fingers. He made no attempt to escape ; 
 but, as if to thank her, he spread his white wings 
 with their crimson spots. The young man, observ- 
 ing him, said curtly, — 
 
 " Do you not know that fools who rush into 
 danger must be allowed to have their own way, and 
 that those who would save them only imperil their 
 own lives ? Who had helped me, had I been as fool- 
 ish — as you? " he broke off with a harsh laugh. 
 
 The girl shuddered. Was it the sudden cool- 
 ness of the air, or the stranger's odd manner, and 
 the lonely wilderness?
 
 20 KARINE. 
 
 " I do not fear the Trollhatta," she rephed ; " I 
 have known it since my childhood, and it has never 
 done me harm." 
 
 " The Trollhatta ! " he exclaimed. " Is this 
 your boasted Trollhatta? Let me look at the 
 famous monster ! " and with a leap he reached 
 the rocky ledge that overhangs the precipice. 
 He bent over to look down into the turbulent 
 waters, until the young girl cried out in terror. 
 Her voice failed to reach him ; but when he 
 turned and saw her troubled face, he came back 
 shaking his dripping hair. 
 
 " This is pleasant to the hunted hare, when the 
 hounds are upon his track," he said. The girl 
 looked at him anxiously ; she began to doubt the 
 stranger's sanity. " Had 1 fallen from yonder 
 ledge, you would scarcely have cared to go and see 
 what had become of my bones. But the hounds 
 would have lost the scent in the water, and their 
 masters would have rewarded them with blows." 
 
 With knitted brows he looked about him, then 
 suddenly catching her wrist in a strong grasp, he 
 drew her a few steps upward toward the water, 
 and, pointing to it, said in a low voice, —
 
 KARINE. 21 
 
 " Who that could not hear, and only saw it thus, 
 calm and transparent, with the sunset reflected 
 upon its smooth surface, would believe that deeper 
 down the swift current was already rushing onward, 
 and that whosoever trusted it would be carried away 
 and dashed to pieces? And yet, I tell you, your 
 TroUhatta is a plaything compared to a stream 1 
 know of, — one still more gentle and smiling, that 
 kisses and caresses ; and those who stand upon its 
 brink are deaf and blind. They do not see the 
 abyss that opens before them, neither do they hear 
 the thundering uproar that will drown their dying 
 screams. Think of me when you hear of him. 
 His name is — " he had spoken rapidly. "What 
 is your name? " he interrupted himself. 
 
 "Katharine Stenbock," she answered simply; 
 the name was one of the noblest in Sweden, and its 
 effect upon the stranger was startling. He stepped 
 back in surprise, and, measuring the girl with his 
 eyes, said with more chivalrous deference than 
 he had hitherto shown, — 
 
 " Truly, the blindness of our country is infectious, 
 or I should have known the Rose of the TroU- 
 hatta." A strangely winning smile accompanied
 
 22 KARINE. 
 
 his words. " I had formed a different idea of your 
 beauty, Karine, thanks to our poets, whose eyes, 
 methinks, are as dull as their swords. I thank 
 you ; in saving your life, I have at least done one 
 thing worthy of immortality." 
 
 Karine blushed. She had been mistaken in 
 doubting the stranger's sanity ; but her conscience 
 pricked her for listening to such language, and 
 yet there was a subtle fascination in his manner 
 and voice. The twilight deepened ; the wind grew 
 stronger, driving heavy clouds across Lake Wener ; 
 but the young man seemed to have forgotten the 
 object of his coming, and his eyes rested with a 
 dreamy light upon Karine' s delicate profile. 
 
 " It is growing dark ; I must go home," she 
 said at last. He stood motionless. She took a 
 few steps, then turned. There was something she 
 wished to ask, but could not find words. Suddenly 
 he passed his hand over his face, and, with the 
 old expression in his eyes and voice, asked 
 abruptly, — 
 
 " Karine Stenbock, has your father gone to 
 Stockholm?" 
 
 She shook her head. *' He was going, but he
 
 KARINE. 23 
 
 hurt his foot, and could not mount his horse. I 
 was glad." 
 
 " You were glad ? Do you grudge him the kiss 
 of Christian of Denmark? " 
 
 " It is not noble to accept an enemy's hospi- 
 tality, — nor wise," she said slowly. 
 
 The stranger came nearer. "You pass harsh 
 judgment upon the nobles of our land. Do you 
 know that your words might cost you your life? 
 To-day Christian of Denmark is King of Sweden ; 
 and if he honors your father's house with his 
 presence, you yourself will do obeisance to the 
 Dove of Amsterdam." 
 
 Karine's head rose proudly ; a flash of angry 
 light broke from her eyes. "Then I should be 
 sorry that you saved my life," she said with quiv- 
 ering lips. The stranger's words had opened the 
 flood-gates of passionate feeling ; but she controlled 
 herself, and added in her usual tone, "I do not 
 know who you are, that think you can intimidate 
 a maiden ; but there are still men in Sweden who 
 with their own blood would save her daughters 
 from such sharrie." 
 
 He failed to perceive the question that lay in her
 
 24 KARINE. 
 
 words, and replied, " You have a brave heart, 
 Karine ! But do you know one such man? Can 
 you tell me his name?" 
 
 " And if I knew but one, it has chanced be- 
 fore now that one man, who was truly a man, has 
 delivered his people from slavery. Yes," she con- 
 tinued eagerly, looking full into the eyes that were 
 bent upon her in such anxious scrutiny ; " and if 
 I trusted to no other arm than that of Gustav 
 Erikson — " She paused, startled at his harsh, 
 discordant laugh, which the rocks flung back a 
 hundred times multiplied. 
 
 "Do you know Gustav Erikson, Karine Sten- 
 bock? " he asked. 
 
 Pained and frightened, she shook her head. 
 
 " You are speaking from hearsay," he said, after a 
 pause. " Shall I tell you what your boasted deliverer 
 of Sweden is in reality? Like a hunted hare before 
 Danish bloodhounds, he flies from land to land. 
 He sees the slaves of Christian II. ill-use women 
 and children, and stops his ears to shut out their 
 cries. He sees the misery of his people, and has 
 no remedy save impotent curses. He is a cow- 
 ardly rascal, who hides in ditches at night to save
 
 KARINE. 25 
 
 his wretched Hfe, — a sparrow, swearing vengeance 
 against the vulture who spoiled his nest. He 
 starts when he hears the clashing of iron, or the 
 creaking of dry branches in the forest." He paused, 
 and as if to illustrate his words, suddenly raised his 
 head and listened attentively. For the space of a 
 few seconds he remained in this attitude ; then he 
 said quickly, — - 
 
 " Karine Stenbock, I must pass this night in your 
 father's house. You seem to think well of Gustav 
 Erikson, — do not be offended with me ; my anger 
 was not against him, but against his hard fate, and 
 the fate of his country." 
 
 " I have never seen him," she said gently, "and 
 yet I think I know him better than you do." 
 
 " You think so ? Perhaps you are right. Defend 
 him always, Karine ; the day may come when he 
 will be able to thank you. Truly, as I know Gustav 
 Erikson, he would be the man to snatch the crown 
 from the head of Christian of Denmark, and lay it 
 at the feet of Karine Stenbock, because she believed 
 in him when he despaired of himself. For this 
 reason I have asked permission to pass the night 
 in your father's house. Like Gustav Vasa, I am
 
 26 KARINE. 
 
 pursued, and tracked by Danish bloodhounds ; and 
 whatever kindness you show to me is shown to one 
 who hates the enemies of our people with as bitter 
 a hatred as does Gustav Vasa." He spoke with 
 such dignity and grace that Karine involuntarily 
 held out her hand to him. 
 
 " Come," she said ; " although I do not know your 
 name, if you are an enemy of Denmark, you are 
 welcome in Gustav Stenbock's house." 
 
 The stranger exclaimed : " Have these evil 
 times failed to make you careful, Karine? For 
 aught you know, I may be a spy of Christian's, 
 sent here to bring destruction to your house. 
 Do you not know the king's threat against those 
 who shelter the proscribed? What matters it, 
 if one more nameless fugitive perish, when the 
 well-being of your household is at stake ? I thank 
 you, Karine, for your goodwill ; but I have slept 
 too many nights under the open sky to fear 
 another. Farewell — " 
 
 "You may know Gustav Erikson better than 
 I, but you surely do not know Gustav Stenbock, 
 if you think that fear could move him to deny 
 aid to any friend of Sweden," Karine gravely inter-
 
 KAKINE. 27 
 
 rupted ; " and say what you will, I do not believe 
 that mistrust of one another will bring back a 
 nation's freedom, and that — " 
 
 "And what, Karine?" he asked. 
 
 "That if your eyes spoke false, little would be 
 lost in Sweden's freedom ! " she added. At her 
 words a wave of joy swept through the young man's 
 heart. He silently followed her up the hillside, 
 from whose summit she had but lately watched 
 the setting sun. Toward the west, the sky was 
 still blue, and a gold-gleaming girdle of hght 
 bounded the horizon. From the east, heavy clouds 
 were approaching, among which blue lights darted 
 to and fro. The rocky slope was steep, and they 
 paused for a moment at the top. To the south, 
 east and west, the view extended far into the dark- 
 ening landscape. Northward, it was confined by 
 the high TroUhcitta hills. 
 
 "The storm comes from Stockholm," muttered 
 the stranger. " I knew it would come ; the last days 
 were too serene." 
 
 "That is our past; over yonder lies Sweden's 
 future," said Karine, pointing to the golden splen- 
 dor in the west. He smiled bitterly.
 
 28 KARINE. 
 
 " But it fades before our eyes ; and when another 
 sun rises, our day is over." Angrily his foot struck 
 the ground. " Curses upon him," he exclaimed, 
 " who harbors such thoughts ; and who does not 
 gladly give his all to restore the freedom of this 
 land ; and curses upon your beauty, Karine, if you 
 use it otherwise than to reward the deliverer of 
 Sweden ! " 
 
 The first peal of thunder, low and continuous, 
 rolled through his angry words. Karine, her 
 cheeks aflame, hurried down the gentle slope that 
 led to her home. Heavy drops began to fall. 
 Before them in the twilight lay a dense grove of 
 trees, — lindens with leafless limbs, and high- 
 branching elms, still covered with sombre foliage. 
 Through them appeared the gray walls and tile- 
 covered roof of an old building. 
 
 " Is that Torpa? " the stranger asked. Karine 
 nodded. " And your mother — Brita Rosen — is 
 she at home? " 
 
 She looked up, astonished. " You seem to know 
 us ; and it is but just that I should be able to say 
 the same of you when I commend you to my 
 father's hospitality."
 
 KARINE. 29 
 
 "You are right, Karine," he answered quickly; 
 " my name is Gustav Folkung ; and if I may ask 
 still another favor at your hands, it is that you will 
 not let your parents know of our meeting. Let 
 me slip unnoticed into a stable and pass the night 
 upon the hay." 
 
 She repeated the name, "Gustav Folkung?" and 
 added musingly, " I have heard of you ; you are 
 a friend of Sweden, as are all who bear that name. 
 No ; there is room to spare in the house, and 
 only my mother is at home." 
 
 "Yes," said Folkung, more to himself than to 
 his companion ; " they have hunted me hard these 
 last days, and sleep would indeed be pleasant. 
 Karine, I do not mistrust your household, but a 
 secret is safer in one hand than in two. Promise 
 me, whatever happens, that you will not betray 
 me. As you know, I am very weary ; before the 
 day dawns, I shall be gone." 
 
 Karine nodded. " I do not know your reasons. 
 But you have saved my life, and you are the enemy 
 of our enemies ; I promise not to betray your 
 presence. Come." 
 
 They had reached the dense darkness of the
 
 30 KARINE. 
 
 elms. The rain now fell in torrents upon the trees, 
 and drowned the sound of their footsteps. Karine 
 walked in silence, lost in thought. " It is the only 
 safe plan," she suddenly murmured, but loud enough 
 for him to catch her words and ask their meaning. 
 She hurriedly explained that there was one room 
 in the house which under no circumstances would be 
 entered at night, and thither she would lead him. 
 Soon the mansion lay before them, wrapped in 
 darkness ; only from the ground-floor, and from an 
 apartment in the story above, there shone a light. 
 The first burned in a room near the entrance ; and 
 they saw the sturdy faces of man-servants and 
 maids, moving about the flickering oil-lamp. 
 
 Karine avoided the open door, and led the 
 stranger, through what seemed to be a garden, to 
 the rear of Castle Torpa. Here the east wind 
 howled more fiercely, dashing the heavy rain-drops 
 against the wall. The keen ears of a watch-dog 
 had already caught the sound of approaching foot- 
 steps, and he growled angrily, until Karine called 
 him by name. With a joyful bark, the dog bounded 
 toward his mistress, but growled again at the sight 
 of the stranger.
 
 KARINE. 3 1 
 
 " Hush, Bjorn ; it is a Swede, — no Dane ; " and 
 with one more short bark, he crouched contentedly 
 at her side. 
 
 She then passed her hand along the wall, pushed 
 back a heavy bolt, and opened a door, through 
 which they entered. This she carefully relocked ; 
 they ascended a dark flight of stairs, and groped 
 their way through narrow passages, until they 
 reached a second door, to which Karine carried 
 the key. A different air out of the darkness met 
 Folkung, recalling to him, in the midst of bleak 
 November winds, the breath of spring. He had 
 scarcely crossed the threshold when his guide 
 whispered hurriedly, — 
 
 " I dare not bring you a light, — it would be- 
 tray you, — nor dare you make any noise; my 
 mother's room adjoins this, and her hearing is 
 very keen. My father has gone to visit a friend, 
 and will not return before morning. As soon as I 
 can, I will bring you food. Draw the bolt on the 
 inside, and do not open, unless some one scratches 
 the door and says, ' Gustav Vasa.' Yonder to the 
 left," and she hesitated for a moment, " you will 
 find a bed. Lie down upon it and rest; only —
 
 32 
 
 KAKINE. 
 
 only — if you would take off your boots ; " and 
 before Folkung realized her meaning, he heard 
 her closing the door. 
 
 " Remember the bolt," she whispered from out- 
 side. 
 
 Instead of obeying, he opened wide the door 
 and stared into the darkness. " Karine ! " he called, 
 in a suppressed voice ; but no answer came to 
 him ; only the wind whistled through the narrow 
 passage-way. The window in the room was open, 
 and the cold draught soon brought him to his 
 senses. He closed the door, and fastened the 
 bolt. Then he stepped to the window, whose 
 outlines were dimly defined against the surround- 
 ing blackness, and tried to calculate, as he felt the 
 rain beating in his face, how high he might be from 
 the ground. He heard the glad barking of the dog, 
 coming from the garden, and growing fainter as it 
 approached the front of the house, clearly indicat- 
 ing the road the young girl had taken. 
 
 " ' Gustav Vasa ' is to be the pass-word, she 
 says," he murmured. "She had better have said, 
 Gustav Erikson is a fool, who has lost his wits 
 since he held a woman's hand in his." He left the
 
 KARINE. 33 
 
 window, and, groping with his hands, began to 
 examine the room. The house was strongly built 
 and well secured against wind and weather. Tall 
 carved chests of drawers stood in the corners. He 
 felt something smooth, like the wooden surface 
 of a door ; at the same time a ray of light fell 
 through a crevice, and he heard a well-known 
 voice. Folkung stopped to listen. 
 
 " Good-evening, mother," Karine said. 
 
 "You were gone a long time," her mother 
 answered. " I believe it is growing dark." The 
 speaker was blind. 
 
 " It is night, mother," the girl replied, " and 
 stormy. I went to the Trollhatta, and there I 
 saved the life of the last butterfly. You know it, 
 — with the red stars on its wings, that flutters 
 about the heights of Kinnekulle. He tried to fly 
 over the Trollhatta, and fell into the water ; but I 
 saved him, and since then he has rested quietly on 
 my hand." 
 
 Every word reached Folkung through the door, 
 and, tired as he was, he could not bring himself 
 to leave his post. He heard the matron sigh, as 
 she said, — 
 
 3
 
 34 KARINE. 
 
 " It were better for him had you left him to his 
 fate. Evil days are drawing near, — I feel it in 
 my eyes, — days that will destroy what has hither- 
 to been saved. Read to me, Karine, from the 
 book I used to read to you when you were a 
 child. Turn to the twelfth page, and read about 
 the bard who sang of his forefathers' brave deeds, 
 but could not praise those of his own generation. 
 He was blind, and in his grief he dashed his harp 
 against the rocks of the Trollhatta." 
 
 The listener heard the girl walk across the 
 room. He softly groped his way back to the 
 window ; but in the darkness his hand, passing 
 over a table, struck an object, which fell to the 
 floor with a loud crash. He reached the bed, and 
 flung himself upon it ; then he heard the woman's 
 voice, — 
 
 " Is Bjorn in your room, Karine? I heard some- 
 thing fall. Let Ingeborg take a light, and see." 
 
 The maid, who was sitting silent in a corner, 
 rose, and reached after a candle ; but Karine said 
 quickly, — 
 
 " Stay, Bjorn is outside ; but my window is 
 open, and the wind rushes in. I need no light."
 
 KARINE. 35 
 
 She entered the room, leavhig the door open be- 
 hind her, and closed the window. The hght from 
 a massive and curiously wrought copper lamp fell 
 into the chamber; and Folkung looked into the 
 face of the woman who sat in an armchair by the 
 table, gazing into vacancy. Around her forehead, 
 high and finely arched, like her daughter's, clus- 
 tered thickly her snowy hair. But her arms, bare 
 to the elbows, after the fashion of her time, were 
 round and white, and she was of a proud and 
 majestic appearance. Folkung could not take his 
 eyes from her face, and he whispered to himself, — 
 
 " You have grown old, Brita Stenbock ; you were 
 a beautiful woman in the olden days, when, in Sten 
 Sture's house, I climbed up upon your knee, and 
 tore from your neck John of Denmark's chain of 
 honor." 
 
 He was silent, for Karine approached. Her 
 dress touched him in passing, and involuntarily he 
 caught it, to detain her. He whispered her name 
 and pressed the fold of her dress to his lips. 
 But with a gentle effort she freed herself, and, re- 
 turning to her mother, said laughing, " The storm 
 will make no more noise," and closed the door.
 
 36 KARINE. 
 
 " We became acquainted an hour ago, — the storm 
 and I," she explained. 
 
 Mistress Stenbock shrugged her shoulders. 
 " Have you been gossiping with the earth-men 
 by the TroUhatta, that you speak so foolishly? 
 Read on. The storm does not seem to heed 
 your wishes : it grows more violent ; I feel it in 
 my shoulder. I wish your father were at home, 
 or at least Gustav — " 
 
 Folkung heard no more. He lay in a half- 
 slumber, while troubled thoughts wandered through 
 his brain. Outside, the wind shrieked and roared, 
 and now and then Bjorn gave vent to his discom- 
 fort in a prolonged howl. Suddenly he awoke 
 with a start, and gazed confusedly about him. 
 The darkness was gone, and the room was flooded 
 with light. At first he was bewildered ; then he 
 perceived that the moon was shining in at the 
 window. But it was not the light that had 
 wakened him ; a sound, or rather, a succession of 
 sounds, had startled his ear. A noise, like the 
 rolling of thunder, approached from a distance, 
 grew louder, and suddenly ceased. The secret 
 guest of Castle Torpa strained his ear to listen.
 
 KARINE. 37 
 
 Now he heard the neighing of horses, and the 
 hurried tread of men's feet upon the broad stair- 
 case. 
 
 The door of the apartment, where sat the women 
 of the Stenbock family, was flung open ; and a 
 man, broad-shouldered, and of gigantic propor- 
 tions, crossed the threshold. Grizzled, storm- 
 tangled locks hung about his bare forehead ; his 
 lips trembled from emotion, and from the pain 
 in his injured foot. His cloak had dropped from 
 his shoulder, behind which was seen the fair head 
 of a young man, whose eyes eagerly sought Karine. 
 
 " Father ! " she cried, starting from her seat in 
 surprise, which a second glance turned into alarm. 
 " What has happened to you, father? " 
 
 "To me?" Gustav Stenbock clutched his 
 throat, as if to aid his reluctant speech; but no 
 sound passed his lips. 
 
 " For God's sake, Gustav, what has happened ? " 
 Karine repeated, turning to the youth, who now 
 stood by her side. He, too, was speechless ; his 
 clothing was drenched, and covered with a thick 
 coat of mire. He trembled with excitement and 
 weariness. A momentary silence lay upon them
 
 38 KARINE. 
 
 all. It was broken by the voice of the mistress, 
 who had risen, and, bending her head, asked, — 
 
 "Who came with Stenbock? Is it Gustav 
 Rosen?" 
 
 " Yes, mother," said Karine, whose face was 
 hidden upon his breast, while with tender haste 
 he kissed her cheek and brow. 
 
 Stenbock had flung his wet cloak upon the floor, 
 and beckoned the youth with an angry motion of 
 the hand, — 
 
 " Speak, Rosen ; tell them all, — as you told 
 it to me." 
 
 Gustav Rosen gently loosened Karine's encircling 
 arms and approached Mistress Stenbock. 
 
 " Be seated, aunt," he said, taking her hand, 
 and leading her to her chair. " I bring you a 
 greeting from Christian of Denmark." 
 
 His words died away in the large room. The 
 door by which the two men had entered stood 
 open ; and the men-servants, with anxious faces, 
 crowded round their master. It was still as death ; 
 only, outside Bjorn howled dismally. Brita Sten- 
 bock asked sharply, — 
 
 "Why do you hesitate, Gustav Rosen? Sten-
 
 KARINE. 39 
 
 bock's women must be men, when Sweden's men 
 conduct themselves as women. What message do 
 you bring from Christian of Denmark? The clasp 
 of his hand is treason, and his greeting is death." 
 
 "You speak true, Brita," replied the youth. 
 He grasped Karine's hand, and held it in his own. 
 " Last evening I rode out of Stockholm," he con- 
 tinued with quivering lips. " Near Lake Wetter 
 I met your father." 
 
 Again the blind woman sprang from her seat. 
 " You deceived us, Stenbock? You were going to 
 Christian of Denmark?" she exclaimed bitterly. 
 
 With a muttered oath, Stenbock threw down 
 his sword. The young man hastened to explain. 
 
 " I told him that all the lords had followed 
 the king's bidding, and I feared he might pay 
 dearly for his refusal." 
 
 " The nobles of Sweden are cowards and trai- 
 tors," cried the blind woman. 
 
 " You are unjust, Brita Stenbock," replied the 
 young man ; " they of whom you speak are deaf to 
 praise or blame. Since last evening, the nobility 
 of Sweden has ceased to exist ; and the Malar is red 
 with their blood. Whoever feasted at Stockholm
 
 40 KARINE. 
 
 with the Danish king, has paid for the banquet 
 with his Hfe. Christian of Denmark has beheaded 
 the entire nobility of Sweden." 
 
 Whence did it come? A sudden shrill, discor- 
 dant laugh rang through the silence that followed 
 the last words. The speaker paused and looked 
 around ; Karine's hand trembled, and her face 
 grew pale. Stenbock's eye ran searchingly over 
 the heads of his retainers, who, as was the custom 
 in Sweden, had gathered in the family room. 
 
 " Who laughs at Sweden's downfall? " he asked, 
 with a threatening frown. No one answered. 
 Karine stepped forward, and said, — 
 
 " It only sounded like laughter, father. It must 
 have been the storm." 
 
 Rosen glanced toward the door that led into 
 Karine's room. " It seerced to come from within 
 there," he said. "What is it, Ingeborg?" 
 
 The girl had also turned toward the door. 
 " There was a strange noise in there before you 
 came, Herr Rosen ; but Mistress Katharine had 
 courage, and went in." 
 
 The youth went nearer, but Karine detained him. 
 " Ingeborg is a silly girl who believes in ghosts,"
 
 KARINE. 41 
 
 she said, catching his arm and gently drawing 
 him away. 
 
 As if struck by lightning, Brita Stenbock had 
 sunk back in her chair, covering her face with her 
 hands. She had not heeded the interruption. 
 She lifted her head ; and her face seemed turned 
 to stone, as with unfaltering voice she asked : 
 
 " Who were beheaded, Gustav Rosen ? Tell me 
 their names." 
 
 " Ask me who have escaped, and it will be easier 
 to answer you," he replied. " They are here, — 
 your husband — and myself." 
 
 A strange expression flitted about Brita Sten- 
 bock's lips. " You too were in Stockholm, Rosen. 
 How is it that you did not share the fate of the 
 Swedish lords?" 
 
 " I escaped by a lucky accident," he returned, 
 with embarrassment, avoiding Karine's wistful, 
 scrutinizing eyes. 
 
 The mistress of the house repeated his last 
 words : " By a lucky accident ! Rejoice, Karine ; 
 otherwise Rosen's head would be lying with the 
 heads of the brave Swedish nobles." In an icy 
 tone she continued, " And is no one left in whom
 
 42 KARINE. 
 
 Sweden may trust, save Stenbock and — yourself? " 
 The tone of her words roused Stenbock, who had 
 stood lost in sad and bitter thoughts. He said 
 angrily, — 
 
 " I think, Brita, this is not the time to recall 
 past wrongs. You speak without reason. Has 
 Gustav Rosen injured you by saving me? Has 
 he done Christian of Denmark a service in pre- 
 venting him from laying my head among the 
 rest?" 
 
 " Mother ! " exclaimed Karine ; but her mother 
 continued, with voice and features unchanged : 
 
 " I asked you, Rosen, whether any others had 
 escaped." 
 
 The youth must have had good reasons for 
 controlling himself, chief among them being the 
 beautiful girl by his side ; for he spoke more 
 calmly than the others. 
 
 " I believe that Gustav Erikson is the only 
 one who escaped ; or rather, who did not go 
 to Stockholm. The fox scented the trap — " 
 
 "Speak reverently of Gustav Vasa, boy," cried 
 the woman, in a voice that suddenly silenced the 
 speaker.
 
 KARINE. 43 
 
 " Gustav Erikson," she repeated musingly; 
 '' he was but a child when he taught me what 
 befits a Swedish woman. While he lives, nothing 
 is lost." 
 
 She raised her head, and turned her sightless 
 eyes toward the young man. 
 
 " I do not wish to pain you, Gustav Rosen," 
 she continued ; " but hitherto you have been a 
 boy. The time has come for you to prove whose 
 blood flows in your veins, — your fother's, or the 
 Danish blood of your mother." 
 
 Karine cast a satisfied glance upon her betrothed. 
 
 " Gustav has a true Swedish heart, mother, — 
 as true as yours and mine ; as my father's and 
 Gustav Vasa's," she said. " But it is growing 
 late ; you should go to rest, and to-morrow con- 
 sider what can be done." 
 
 Stenbock shook his head. " To-morrow it may 
 be too late ; Christian is swift as the plague." 
 
 Rosen assented. " A command has been is- 
 sued to search the country for those whose names 
 stand upon the list of the executioner Slaghok. 
 It was at his instigation that Archbishop Trolle 
 made the accusations — "
 
 44 KARINE. 
 
 " God's curse upon the traitor — " Brita Sten- 
 bock's passionate exclamation was followed by a 
 howl from Bjorn, fiercely barking, as he bounded 
 up the stairs. 
 
 " All the senators, two bishops, the burgomaster 
 and councillors of Stockholm were executed," Rosen 
 continued excitedly. " The gates were suddenly 
 closed, and the streets filled with Danish soldiers 
 who had been brought into the town at night. 
 Whoever witnessed the executions, and was heard 
 to utter a word of sympathy or reproach, was 
 immediately seized and made to share the same 
 fate. Upon his knees Archbishop Trolle besought 
 the king to execute the Pope's ban against the 
 prisoners — " 
 
 Loud words and the clashing of arms inter- 
 rupted Rosen. Bjorn dashed into the room, whin- 
 ing, and, with eyes sparkling, sprang upon Karine. 
 A servant, following in breathless haste, exclaimed, 
 " Master, hide yourself. The Danes have come to 
 seek you, and we are too few to resist them." 
 
 Stenbock's mighty form rose proudly. He 
 grasped the hilt of his sword, and with a firm, 
 loud voice replied, —
 
 KARINE. 45 
 
 " Why should I flee from my own house ? I 
 have committed no crime." 
 
 At the same moment a Danish officer, a drawn 
 sword in his hand, entered the room, followed by 
 a number of soldiers armed with halberds. So 
 sudden was their appearance that, with the excep- 
 tion of the master, none had overcome the first 
 feeling of angry surprise. It had kindled a ghastly 
 light in Brita Stenbock's sightless eyes, which turned 
 with a look of deadly hate toward the intruders. 
 Karine's heart beat loudly ; and her eyes rested 
 with feverish anxiety upon the door that led to her 
 chamber, while Gustav Rosen slipped into one of 
 the deep window-recesses, turning his flushed face 
 toward the darkness without. Ingeborg, the maid, 
 sat in her corner, hiding her face and loudly lament- 
 mg. Bjorn kept his sparkling eyes fixed upon the 
 Danes, and, with a low growl, threw himself upon 
 the floor near the door of his mistress' room. 
 
 The Danish captain, after a searching glance 
 through the apartment, approached the master of 
 the house, who stood calmly awaiting him. 
 
 "Gustav Stenbock?" he asked abruptly. 
 
 Stenbock nodded without changing his position.
 
 46 KARINE. 
 
 ''His Majesty, King Christian II. of Sweden, 
 sends you this message : he deeply regrets that 
 you disdained his invitation to Stockholm, but 
 he is willing to forget that you have grieved him 
 by your absence, and his clemency is content to 
 lay no heavier punishment upon your disobedi- 
 ence than to forbid you, at the peril of your life, 
 to leave your estates, until he himself shall be 
 pleased to grant you permission." 
 
 Stenbock breathed hard. " No man has the 
 right to imprison a nobleman of Sweden without 
 sentence of Parliament," he answered. 
 
 The officer turned indifferently from him to the 
 servants of the house, from whose ranks a sullen 
 murmur had followed his words. 
 
 " It is the will of his Majesty that any resist- 
 ance be immediately punished. Put the rebel in 
 chains and carry him to Stockholm," he com- 
 manded, pointing to one of Stenbock's servants. 
 The soldiers seized the unfortunate man, none of 
 whose fellow-servants dared come to his assist- 
 ance ; but Stenbock clutched convulsively the hilt 
 of his sword. The captain, observing his move- 
 ment, continued, —
 
 KARINE. 47 
 
 " His Majesty will be rejoiced to hear how 
 faithful and obedient a servant he possesses 
 in you, Master Stenbock. He has no doubt 
 that you refuse to harbor treasonable fugitives, 
 upon whose head a price is set. Nevertheless, 
 I have strict orders to search every dwelling 
 in this neighborhood ; and I regret that I cannot, 
 at this late hour, spare you the inconvenience. 
 Begin with the adjoining room," he added, turn- 
 ing to his men. 
 
 But Stenbock's power of self-control was ex- 
 hausted. Heedless of his injured foot, with 
 one leap he sprang before the mercenaries, 
 and, drawing his sword, barred their way to the 
 door. 
 
 "Tell Christian of Denmark," he cried, "that 
 he may well regret not having been able to lay my 
 head among those of the other Swedish lords ; and 
 I still more regret that he is not present at this 
 moment instead of his satellites, that I might re- 
 quite the hospitalities of Stockholm." 
 
 These words were spoken with bitter scorn, and 
 accompanied by a hissing flourish of his sword. 
 The soldiers started back, and gazed in dismay at
 
 48 KARINE. 
 
 the gray, herculean figure. The Danish captain 
 frowned, and the heavy veins upon his forehead 
 grew purple in his rage. He beckoned to the hal- 
 berdiers who stood behind him, and said in an 
 imperious tone, — 
 
 " Your life were forfeited, Gustav Stenbock, were 
 I to use my full powers. In the name of King 
 Christian, — give place." 
 
 The halberds moved forward in a serried line, 
 but Stenbock stood motionless. Then, with a look 
 of proud satisfaction, he threw his arm around his 
 daughter, who had flown to his side and stood 
 as unflinchingly as the old man himself. But the 
 iron blades never paused. They were accustomed 
 to blood ; and in the fierce wars of conquest and 
 destruction which the Danish monarch had waged 
 against Sweden, Karine's would not have been the 
 first woman's breast they pierced. Not a muscle 
 moved in the captain's hard face ; only a few 
 seconds more, and the glittering lances would have 
 cleared the way to the door. 
 
 But there was another person present who had 
 been a silent witness of the scene, watching with 
 growing uneasiness the progress of events. At the
 
 KARINE. 49 
 
 entrance of the Danes, Rosen's embarrassment and 
 his evident desire to escape notice had been un- 
 mistakable. He had heard in silence the dis- 
 pute between Stenbock and the captain ; a tremor 
 shook his frame when he saw Karine's sudden 
 movement to her father's side. He was, no doubt, 
 too well acquainted with the intruders to hope 
 that they would desist from their purpose. 
 
 "Hold!" Gustav Rosen suddenly shouted, 
 throwing himself between Karine and the sol- 
 diers, who paused, startled by the suddenness of 
 his appearance. The captain turned and rudely 
 asked, — 
 
 " Who are you ? What do you want? " 
 
 The young man told his name, and in a low 
 tone added some words in Danish, at which the 
 officer's manner suddenly changed. He un- 
 covered his head, and hastily beckoned his men 
 to step back. Then he began, — 
 
 " Your pardon, sir ; I had no suspicion of your 
 presence here. I pray you will assure his 
 Majesty — " 
 
 Rosen interrupted him. " This lady is my be- 
 trothed, and it is her room which you bade your 
 
 4
 
 50 KARINE. 
 
 men enter. You will understand Master Sten- 
 bock's refusal ; and my word of honor is scarcely 
 needed to convince you that no one is concealed 
 there." 
 
 The captain looked embarrassed. " Excuse 
 me, Herr Rosen," he answered, with hesitation; 
 " but my orders — " 
 
 Gustav Rosen frowned, but after a moment's 
 reflection he replied, " You are right ; your orders 
 must be obeyed. You will doubtless be content 
 if I take upon myself your office, so as to satisfy 
 the letter of the king's command." The young 
 man spoke with unwonted energy and defiance, 
 and the officer silently bowed assent, his iTianner 
 expressing a fear that he had gone too far in insist- 
 ing upon his demand. He endeavored to repair 
 his mistake by taking a position so remote from 
 Karine's room that neither his eyes nor his ears 
 could take any part in the search. 
 
 Stenbock now began to realize the danger into 
 which he was about to plunge himself and his 
 family ; he stepped aside, leaving the door free, 
 upon whose latch Rosen laid his hand. 
 
 "Forgive me, Karine," he said, looking around;
 
 KAKINE. 51 
 
 "you know — " but Karine no longer stood beside 
 him. In the confusion caused by his sudden 
 appearance, she had sHpped away unnoticed. 
 She hurried through the long dark passages 
 until she reached the door by which Folkung 
 had been admitted. In breathless haste, she 
 shook it violently, then, remembering, she gently 
 scratched the wood, and whispered, " Gustav 
 Vasa." 
 
 The door opened immediately, and the fugitive 
 stood before her in the bright moonlight. 
 
 "You gave me your word, Karine, and Gustav 
 Vasa waited." 
 
 " Come quickly," she urged, not heeding his 
 words, and hurried him through the narrow gallery 
 by which they had entered. At the same moment 
 Gustav Rosen opened the opposite door, and 
 Bjorn bounded into the chamber. Rosen stood 
 upon the threshold, and to allay all suspicion called 
 Ingeborg to bring him a light. 
 
 " Do not go in alone, Herr Rosen," she pleaded ; 
 as with trembling hands she lighted the candle, 
 " all is not as it should be in there." 
 
 In the hall clanked the footsteps of the Danish
 
 52 KARINE. 
 
 soldiers, setting out upon their search. Ingeborg 
 retreated to her corner; and Rosen, shading the 
 flickering Hght with his hand, looked carefully 
 about him. Suddenly he stopped short, as if 
 rooted to the spot. Bjorn stood erect beside 
 Karine's bed, eagerly sniffing the air. The silken 
 pillows hung to the ground ; the soft couch was 
 crushed, as if by a heavy weight, and the snowy 
 linen was stained with damp clay. 
 
 Half stupefied, he stared before him. Ingeborg's 
 warning, the harsh laughter, Karine's assurance, 
 " Believe me, it is the wind," as she gently forced 
 him away, and finally, her mysterious disappear- 
 ance, — all crowded in bewildering confusion 
 through his brain. The light from his candle fell 
 upon the floor ; the wet tracks of a man's iron- 
 heeled boot crossed each other to and fro, 
 coming from the outer door and leading back to 
 it. Bjorn scented them, and, springing against 
 the door, which Karine had forgotten to fasten, it 
 yielded, and the dog darted silently through the 
 dark gallery. Gustav Rosen drew his sword, and 
 rushed after him. Above him and around him, 
 he heard the footsteps of the Danes, intent upon
 
 KARINE. 53 
 
 their search ; and, confused by the strange sugges- 
 tions surging through his mind, he cried, "''This 
 way ! this way ! " 
 
 Karine led the stranger by the same road they 
 had taken before, but instead of opening the door 
 by which they had entered, she passed her hand 
 along the wall until she found another. " You dare 
 not venture into the garden," she whispered ; " the 
 house is surrounded." The hinges of the heavy 
 door creaked, as it swung open. " Descend 
 twelve steps — you must count them — then turn 
 to the left, and a subterranean passage will lead 
 you to the TroUhatta, near the spot where you met 
 me to-day. Shrubbery and a large stone conceal 
 the opening. Make haste ! I hear them coming 
 — the God of Sweden keep you — make haste ! " 
 she repeated anxiously. 
 
 " You know not what you ask, Karine," he 
 answered passionately ; " what matters it to Sweden, 
 or to myself, if they find me here and strike me 
 dead at your feet?" 
 
 A gleam of light shone upon them from above. 
 
 "You are mad!" Karine gasped, endeavoring 
 with both hands to force him through the door.
 
 54 KARINE. 
 
 But her strength was nothing compared to his. 
 He clasped her in his arms, and whispered, — 
 
 " Give me one kiss, Karine, and I will save 
 myself and save Sweden. If you refuse, I sur- 
 render myself to the Danes." The girl struggled 
 to free herself, then cried out, " Bjorn ! help 
 me, Bjorn ! " as the dog came running toward 
 her, wagging his bushy tail. But he was too 
 late. With a cry of anger and dismay, she broke 
 away ; the light shone round the corner, and at 
 the head of the short flight of steps stood Gustav 
 Rosen. 
 
 " Thank God, it is my betrothed ! " she cried. 
 Upon the fugitive, the effect of her words was 
 startling. For a moment he staggered, as though 
 he had received a blow ; then he sprang toward 
 her. 
 
 "You are betrothed to another, Karine Sten- 
 bock?" 
 
 The same harsh laugh which had so lately in- 
 terrupted Gustav Rosen's tale accompanied his 
 words. At the sound of his voice, the latter sprang 
 down the steps, and the light from his candle 
 flashed full in Folkung's face.
 
 KARINE. 5 5 
 
 '' Gustav — "exclaimed the youth, and his 
 trembling hand lifted his sword to strike. But 
 Karine caught his arm, and with lightning-like 
 suddenness the fugitive's hand lay upon his lips, 
 cutting short his exclamation. 
 
 " You utter my name at the peril of your life, 
 Gustav Rosen," he said, in a tone so commanding 
 that the youth shrank before his flaming eyes. 
 " You have brought good tidings ; the reaper must 
 needs cut down the tares with his bloody sickle, 
 before the harvest of the future may ripen. Fare- 
 well, Rose of the TroUhatta ; I will keep my 
 promise." 
 
 Rosen looked up, astonished ; the speaker had 
 vanished. Only the creaking of the heavy iron- 
 mounted door told whither he had gone. Other, 
 louder steps now came hurrying through the gallery. 
 Karine took the light from the hand of her lover, 
 who, leaning against the wall, rested his weary blue 
 eyes upon her face. 
 
 " It was well that you came, Gustav," she said 
 gratefully. 
 
 " Oh ! Karine, had I not come — had I never 
 come ! " The Danish captain, followed by his men, 
 appeared on the stairs.
 
 56 KARINE. 
 
 " You called, Herr Rosen? " he asked politely. 
 
 " It was nothing ; Bjorn scented a wolf, prowling 
 about the place \ " and he pointed to the dog, who 
 again showed displeasure at the sight of the 
 soldiers. 
 
 "We also have discovered nothing," returned 
 the officer, with a respectful inclination. " I beg 
 that you will intercede for me with the lady. It 
 did not enter into ray mind to entertain suspicion ; 
 but duty, you know — " 
 
 " I should not have prevented you from ful- 
 filling it in person," Rosen interrupted him. 
 " Should a similar case again occur, I will not 
 interfere, I give you my word." With another 
 bow, the captain left them. Karine walked in 
 silence by her lover's side, questioning his face 
 with her eyes. 
 
 " You are so strange this evening, Gustav," she 
 said, at last. 
 
 " Strange? " he repeated, standing still ; " not I, 
 Karine, the world is strange. Give me your 
 hand ; " and he gazed at the slender hand until the 
 tears filled his eyes. 
 
 "Two days ago I saw King Christian hold out
 
 KARINE. 
 
 57 
 
 his hand to his guests," he continued slowly ; "and 
 it was as soft and white as yours. No, not the 
 world, — the human heart is strange. It will not 
 believe what the eyes see and the ears hear ; only 
 what it desires, — that it believes 1 "
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 ALL lay conquered and dead, from the Baltic 
 to the dreary wastes of Norrbotten. As 
 far as the eye could reach, from the summit of 
 KinnekuUe, winter had spread its white pall over 
 the land, and bound in icy fetters the rushing 
 mountain torrents. Jn the deep places of the earth, 
 the hidden streams murmur their plaintive song, 
 all unheard. Winter reigns ; and in Sweden the 
 winter is long. Those now living may not see 
 its end. All is conquered, save only the Trollhatta j 
 he alone refuses to be bound. Unceasingly the 
 wild waters plunge into the deep, as if to waken, 
 with their loud note of warning, the sleeping earth. 
 Unceasingly they tear down and fling aside the icy 
 needles, that, like an enemy's spears, stand in their
 
 KARINE. 59 
 
 way, endeavoring with their feeble strength to stay 
 the torrent. 
 
 One human being in all the great land of Sweden 
 resembles the Trollhatta. His name is Gustav Erik- 
 son ; from the bundle of fagots in his coat-of-arms, 
 the people have called him Gustav " Vasa." His 
 father was a Swedish senator ; and Sten Sture the 
 Elder, who fell fighting against Christian H., was his 
 great-uncle. Although scarcely thirty years old, he 
 has met with strange and varied fortunes. As a 
 child. King John of Denmark saw him in his uncle's 
 house, at play with his companions, and assuming 
 for himself the part of Cyrus. The Danish king 
 watched the boy, and was seized with an uneasi- 
 ness akin to that which befell Astyages at the sight 
 of his unknown grandson. To prevent the youth 
 from furtlier imitating the career of Cyrus, he 
 conceived the idea of carrying him to Denmark, 
 and was only deterred by Sten Sture's persuasions. 
 Later, Gustav Vasa was sent to the University of 
 Upsala, the ancient royal city, until the civil war 
 again broke forth, when he fought under the ban- 
 ner of Sten Sture against the traitor, Archbishop 
 TroUe ; and in the glorious battle of Briinnkyrka
 
 6o KARINE. 
 
 he bore the nation's standard. That which King 
 John failed by fair means to achieve was accom- 
 plished by the cunning of Christian, his successor, 
 who, promising to negotiate at Stockholm with 
 Sten Sture himself, demanded, as hostages for 
 his safety, the surrender of six distinguished 
 officers, among them Gustav Vasa. Trusting to 
 the king's promise, the regent consented ; but no 
 sooner had Christian received the hostages than 
 he refused to come to Stockholm, and Gustav 
 Erikson was a prisoner in Denmark. 
 
 He passed a year in the strong Castle of Kallo, 
 in the north of Jutland. Daily he heard tidings 
 of the vast preparations in progress throughout 
 Denmark for Sweden's subjection, and no one in 
 Jutland doubted their speedy realization. By rea- 
 son of its feuds with the rebellious Archbishop 
 Trolle, Sweden lay under the ban of the Pope ; and 
 Christian's mercenaries drew lots over their wine 
 for Swedish maidens and Swedish estates. 
 
 An ancient chronicler relates how " Gustav 
 Erikson, by reason of such insolence, fell into 
 fear and anger beyond measure ; so that he could 
 taste neither meat nor drink, even had it been far
 
 KARINE. 6 1 
 
 daintier tlian it was ; his sleep neither rested nor 
 refreshed him, because he could think of naught, 
 save how to find the means of escaping from his 
 unrighteous imprisonment." 
 
 The means were found somehow. Disguised as 
 a peasant, he fled, and in a few days reached the 
 frontier of Jutland. In Flensburg, to avoid de- 
 tection, he took service with some cattle-dealers, 
 who were driving their oxen to Germany, and 
 with them he reached Liibeck. By virtue of his 
 eloquence, and by his personal influence, he ob- 
 tained from the Senate of that city a promise of 
 assistance, provided he succeeded in organizing a 
 successful revolt against the usurper. 
 
 In May, 1520, Gustav Vasa landed at Kalmar, 
 which, together with Stockholm, was the only 
 Swedish town still offering resistance to the Danes. 
 Stockholm, besieged by land and by sea, was 
 inaccessible ; and in all manner of disguises he 
 travelled through the adjacent provinces, — Sma- 
 land and Sodermannland. 
 
 Then the capital fell, and all Sweden was in 
 Christian's power. He came with changed de- 
 meanor, — not as the conqueror, but as the pro-
 
 62 KARINE. 
 
 tector of the subjected nation ; and he invited the 
 nobles of Sweden to his coronation at Stockhohn. 
 
 In vain Gustav Vasa sought to deter his friends, 
 among them his brother-in-law, Joachim Brahe, 
 from obeying the invitation. Early in November 
 of the same year, they went to Stockholm. 
 
 Gustav Erikson remained behind. 
 
 Soon winter lay upon Sweden, hiding the 
 blood that had flowed into the Malar, But the 
 TroUhatta still thundered and roared ; and while 
 that remained unsubdued, the winter had failed 
 to conquer all. While Gustav Vasa still found a 
 faithful Swedish heart, that, scorning danger, con- 
 cealed him in some rocky hiding-place, so long 
 Sweden remained unsubdued, and sleep fled the 
 royal couch of the ancient Folkungs, upon which 
 Christian of Denmark laid himself to rest. 
 
 It was indeed a howling, yelping crew that 
 hunted the noble game from east to west, from 
 north to south, throughout the length and breadth 
 of the land. Now and then a bloodhound, more 
 zealous than his mates, discovered his tracks in 
 the snow, and, panting, followed his scent ; but as 
 suddenly it was lost. Many a Danish captain
 
 KARINE. 6l 
 
 wrathfully tore his beard, when he learned how 
 near he had been to the hiding-place of the fugi- 
 tive ; and that he had only needed to stretch forth 
 his hand and grasp the golden reward which King 
 Christian had set upon his head ; yes, and how he 
 had even held him, and unsuspectingly loosened 
 his hold. To this day innumerable legends live in 
 the memory of the Dalecarlian peasants of the 
 dance Gustav Vasa led his pursuers, and of his 
 hair-breadth escapes. Once he lay hidden in a 
 wagon covered with straw, into which the Danish 
 soldiers thrust their spears, dealing him a deep 
 wound in the thigh. He bore his pain without a 
 groan ; but the blood ran through the wagon and 
 left red stains upon the snow ; and the faithful 
 teamster cut a broad gash in his horse's leg, to 
 divert suspicion. Another time Gustav Vasa dis- 
 guised himself as the servant of a peasant, living 
 near the confines of Norway. He was standing 
 carelessly by the hearth-fire, when the Danish sol- 
 diers entered, and asked him after Gustav Vasa's 
 hiding-place. At this threatening moment, the 
 brave peasant-woman came to his assistance, dealt 
 him a lusty blow with her broom, and drove him
 
 64 KARINE. 
 
 from the house, chiding him as a lazy servant, who 
 would not work, but rather stand by the fire and 
 gossip. 
 
 In deep forest solitudes, among dreary rocks, 
 he passed many a day ; but whichever way he 
 turned, he left traces of his presence. The iron 
 hand of winter and of Christian of Denmark still 
 lay upon Sweden. But a short day of sunshine 
 will melt more than a cold night can freeze ; and 
 the Danes were no longer able to destroy in the 
 hearts of the people the hopes awakened by Gus- 
 tav Erikson, Whispered words flew from mouth 
 to mouth, and eyes sparkling with hate followed 
 the mercenaries. At night in lonely farmhouses, 
 by the dim lamplight, many a rusty weapon 
 was carefully tested, and restored to its ancient 
 lustre. The seed of the massacre of Stockholm, 
 strewn broadcast by that untiring sower, Gustav 
 Erikson, began everywhere to ripen for the har- 
 vest. It was not yet springtime in Sweden, but 
 a breath blew over the pines upon the hillsides, 
 that proclaimed its coming. 
 
 Castle Torpa lay silent, buried in the snow. Far 
 to the north stretched the endless surface of Lake
 
 KARTNE. 65 
 
 Wener's frozen waters. Besides its great lakes, 
 Sweden, in the sixteenth century, possessed but 
 scanty means of communication ; and the few 
 highways lay so deeply hidden under the snow 
 that neither man nor beast could find them. 
 
 Even had the road to Torpa been free, it is not 
 likely that many would have journeyed thither. The 
 Danish ruler's interdict lay upon the household, 
 and withheld any guest from entering its gates. 
 No footprints in the snow led to or from the house 
 of Gustav Stenbock, save those of the Danish sol- 
 diers, who, without warning, appeared from time 
 to time, searched the house from the cellar to the 
 roof, and each time left without finding what would 
 have rewarded their pains. 
 
 Only one thing seemed changed. The master 
 of the house and his blind wife had apparently 
 grown weary of their futile resistance to foreign 
 rule ; they yielded to the inevitable ; and, greatly 
 to their surprise, each detachment of Danish mer- 
 cenaries could tell of a friendlier reception than 
 their predecessors. This seeming change of senti- 
 ment in one of Denmark's most bitter opponents 
 did not pass unnoticed. Gustav Stenbock's stand- 
 
 5
 
 66 KARINE. 
 
 ing was high in Sweden, and the support of his 
 name would be of incalculable value to a throne 
 obtained by force. The king, therefore, was care- 
 ful to spread the news abroad ; and he soon learned, 
 to his joy, that in the southern and middle prov- 
 inces, the supposed traitor was bitterly denounced 
 by his countrymen. He fancied that each curse 
 bound Stenbock more closely to himself, and de- 
 tached him more and more from the ranks of his 
 former friends. 
 
 The chief means, however, of allaying Christian's 
 suspicions were the presence of Gustav Rosen, 
 and his relations to the house of Stenbock. 
 
 Gustav Rosen was the son of Brita Stenbock's 
 brother, whose wife, a Danish lady of noble birth, 
 had brought her husband large possessions in Den- 
 mark. He died early, and the young mother re- 
 turned with her child to her own country. Before 
 the boy had reached his tenth year, she also died, 
 and he was sent to the house of Brita Stenbock, 
 his aunt. 
 
 Gustav Rosen had loved his mother fondly ; 
 and she lived in his memory as the embodi- 
 ment of all that was fair and beautiful. In his
 
 KARINE. 67 
 
 dreams he often felt the soft air of Zealand upon 
 his face ; in his ears sounded his mother's gentle 
 voice, as with wondrous old-time songs of VValde- 
 mar Seyer's glory and the beautiful Dagmar, she 
 sang him to sleep under the green beech-trees, 
 whose leaves rustled and glittered in the sunlight. 
 Then Gerda Rosen kissed him, and smiled with 
 her beautiful lips, — so strangely, — and the boy 
 awoke in tears. 
 
 A shudder shook his frame, when suddenly a 
 rough blast of wind, rushing through the fir-trees 
 by the Trollhatta, startled him out of his soft 
 dreams. Cold and odorless, it blew across Lake 
 Wener, — a greeting from the everlasting ice-fields. 
 The Trollhatta, with its deafening noise and tumult, 
 filled his soul with terror ; and away he sped from 
 the wild, rude scenes to the shelter of home, 
 where, instead of his mother's tender welcome, 
 Brita Stenbock's cold face greeted him. She had 
 never forgiven her brother for taking a Danish 
 woman to his heart. Her voice assumed an 
 added coldness when she addressed her nephew. 
 Frightened and lonely, the boy then crept to his 
 dim chamber in the great, gloomy house, and
 
 68 KARINE. 
 
 sobbed himself to sleep. Then his friendly dreams 
 came to comfort him ; and every warm and glow- 
 ing dream-picture belonged to Denmark and the 
 past. 
 
 One fair thing alone had nothing to do with 
 Denmark, — the little golden-haired girl who often- 
 times came to his room, sat down beside him, 
 and with soft hands wiped away his childish tears. 
 
 " Do not weep, Gustav," she pleaded ; " when 
 I am grown up, I will go with you to Denmark." 
 
 Then sleep was forgotten, and he would tell her 
 what through the day he had kept locked within his 
 heart. When, lost in memories, he would look at 
 Karine, it seemed that the sweet child's face grew 
 larger and more beautiful, until he saw in it the sad 
 and loving countenance of his dear mother ; and, 
 smiling through his tears, the boy threw his arms 
 around her, and hid his face upon her breast, 
 as if she were indeed Gerda Rosen, until Karine 
 herself grew sad, and tears came to her own eyes, 
 and she would say, " Do not cry, Gustav ; I will 
 be your wife, and I will then be your mother too, 
 and we will go to Denmark together." 
 
 In the morning, Brita Stenbock often found the
 
 KAKINE. 69 
 
 children thus sleeping side by side, and Karine was 
 chided for her disobedience in comforting her 
 stubborn Danish cousin. Stenbock himself was 
 then called upon to punish Gustav for the misde- 
 meanor of accepting comfort. But weightier busi- 
 ness filled his thoughts in those days ; and he would 
 pass the matter by, saying simply, — 
 
 " Let the children alone, Brita, until their time 
 comes." 
 
 Possibly he did not regret the growing fondness 
 between his daughter and the wealthy kinsman. 
 The name of Stenbock ranked higher than the 
 money value represented by its possessions, which, 
 during a century of incessant warfare, had suffered 
 materially. Stenbock gave himself little trouble 
 with his nephew's education ; whatever was need- 
 ful for a Swedish nobleman to know, the parish 
 priest, whose patron was the lord of the castle, 
 was able to impart. Although Gustav's tempera- 
 ment was gentle, and he differed greatly from 
 other children of his age and rank, yet he required 
 no spur to excel in' all manner of bodily exercises. 
 He mounted the wildest horses, and, emulating the 
 men of the household, threw with ease the heaviest
 
 70 KARINE. 
 
 spear. For Karine he climbed the steep rocks 
 of the TroUhatta, where grew the rarest flowers, 
 and, braving wind and weather, swam far out into 
 Lake Wener, until he was lost to sight amid the 
 distant waves ; and only after anxious waiting 
 would those upon the shore see his fair head shin- 
 ing among the foaming crests. A certain spir- 
 itual kinship existed between these two children, 
 — a finer, more thoughtful cast of mind, reaching 
 far beyond the manners and aspirations of their 
 surroundings ; only in one particular their natures 
 diverged, and imperceptibly, with each year, grew 
 wider apart. 
 
 As a flower develops according to the nature 
 of the soil from whence it springs, so Karine grew 
 up a true child of Sweden. Her eyes sparkled 
 when she recalled its glorious past and its victories 
 over Denmark, which she hated with childish 
 vehemence. But Gustav Rosen laughingly shook 
 his head and said " men were men, there as here, 
 and should not hate and make war upon each 
 other, but love and be friends." Then the child 
 clinched her little hand and cried, " Never, 
 never, could Swede and Dane be friends ; they
 
 KARINE. yi 
 
 were enemies from their birth." Yet when he 
 told her the tale of the beautiful Dagniar, and 
 of King Waldemar's grief at her death, Karine's 
 eyes filled with tears, and she forgot that it was a 
 Danish queen for whom she wept. 
 
 And so their childhood passed, while bitter 
 strife and warfare engrossed the thoughts of their 
 elders. As the years ripened in Karine a more glow- 
 ing love of her country, the less she imagined that 
 Gustav could be of another mind. To her he 
 was as true a Swede as the young Gustav Vasa, 
 of whom all the world was speaking; and she 
 placed upon him the same high hopes that her 
 father and mother put in the other. Gustav Rosen, 
 on the other hand, saw in her more and more 
 the image of his beautiful mother, who, after her 
 husband's death, had fled from his country and 
 kindred. He fancied that, like her, Karine was 
 an exile in a strange land, and that he was des- 
 tined to carry her back to her true home, — to 
 fair, sunny Denmark. 
 
 Whatever happened, neither could picture a life 
 without the other. Many a year had slipped by 
 since Gustav Rosen first came to Torpa, and the
 
 72 KARINE. 
 
 boy and girl had grown to manhood and woman- 
 hood. But, contrary to experience and precedent, 
 their relations and their manner toward one 
 another remained unchanged. Now, as then, 
 they walked hand in hand ; but no longer as 
 brother and sister, — the playmates had become 
 lovers. It was the old love clothed in new spring 
 garments ; and their own springtime scattered 
 its blossoms, whose fragrance they breathed, un- 
 suspecting whence it came. 
 
 When Gustav Rosen reached his eighteenth year, 
 and with it his majority, it became necessary for 
 him to go to Zealand, to take possession of his 
 estates. It was the thought of this, their first 
 parting, that tore asunder the magic veil which had 
 bound their eyes. He felt unable to go, without 
 the right to return. 
 
 Every one in Stenbock's house fancied he knew 
 Gustav Rosen ; but not one, not even Karine, 
 understood him fully. One, perhaps, — Brita Sten- 
 bock, — and she withheld her consent when he 
 formally sued for her daughter's hand. She was, 
 indeed, obliged to yield when Stenbock insisted that 
 " the children should have their will in this matter."
 
 KARINE. 73 
 
 Then Brita endeavored to frustrate Rosen's jour- 
 ney to Denmark ; but here again she met with de- 
 cided opposition, her husband deeming it not only 
 desirable, but necessary, that they, who had never 
 known what it was to be without the other, should 
 experience a separation ; and their joy over the 
 father's consent tempered the bitterness of parting. 
 
 According to the old Swedish custom, their 
 betrothal was celebrated with solemn festivities. 
 The noblest in the land were gathered at Castle 
 Torpa ; and during the revel of the night many 
 glowing toasts were heard, burning words of devo- 
 tion to Sweden and hatred of Denmark. Rosen's 
 face was flushed with joy and wine. In the morn- 
 ing he could not recall his words ; but he re- 
 membered that they had pressed his hand ; that 
 Karine's eyes had beamed with happiness ; and that 
 even Brita Stenbock's cold face had smiled upon 
 him. 
 
 On the next day, the two walked hand in hand 
 to the Trollhatta. Their steps grew slower as 
 they approached the cataract. Behind them a 
 servant led the young man's horse. 
 
 " It seems as if we were taking leave of our
 
 74 KARINE. 
 
 youth," said the girl, struggling with her tears. 
 He smiled. 
 
 "We were foolish children — " 
 
 " But happy children," she whispered. 
 
 Gustav Rosen looked about him. " All is as it 
 was from the beginning of our lives. How many 
 years have we sat here without understanding the 
 beating of our own hearts ! We thought we knew 
 each other as we knew ourselves ; and yet this 
 secret lay within us, unsuspected. Shall it be the 
 last, Karine?" 
 
 She nodded, with moist eyes. He clasped her 
 in his arms and kissed her. "The Trollhatta is 
 the third in our union, — our oldest friend. Here 
 we will meet when I return ; I will send you a 
 message when the time comes." 
 
 He sprang upon his horse, and Karine held out 
 her hand for the last time. 
 
 " Come when you will," she said, " I shall await 
 you here. Come when your heart tells you that I 
 can no longer endure your absence." 
 
 It so chanced that the same ship which carried 
 Gustav Rosen from Gotaborg to Copenhagen con-
 
 KARINE. 75 
 
 veyecl Gustav Erikson as hostage for the Danish 
 king's safety from Stockholm to Denmark. He 
 was older by ten years than Rosen ; and his 
 thoughtful face and marked features bore to the 
 youth's dreamy countenance the same relation that 
 a strong oak, proved by many tempests, bears to 
 a slender sapling covered with careless blossoms. 
 The voyage was delayed by contrary winds, which 
 soon strengthened into a gale ; and Rosen saw with 
 amazement how in the moment of danger Erik- 
 son, like an experienced seaman, climbed into the 
 rigging, more than once risking his own life to 
 save the threatened ship. The powerful individu- 
 ality of the young man inspired in Rosen a feeling 
 of mingled attraction and repulsion ; and he could 
 scarcely endure the keen glance of the former 
 when, in the discussion of the momentous ques- 
 tions which disturbed the minds of men in the 
 North, it rested upon his face. He felt that the 
 rushing waters of the Trollhatta would prove more 
 sympathetic than Gustav Vasa, with his piercing 
 eyes and his scornful laugh. 
 
 In one thing the two were equally mistaken. 
 Gustav Vasa also expected to return in a few
 
 'j6 KARINE. 
 
 weeks to Sweden, as soon as the negotiations in 
 Stockholm should have led to a treaty of peace. 
 
 Rosen had little knowledge of public affairs. 
 What had the ancient feud between Sweden and 
 Denmark to do with his love ? He learned some- 
 what of these matters when, upon their arrival in 
 Denmark, his fellow-traveller was arrested and led 
 away by soldiers amid the jeers of the populace. 
 He was informed that the companion whom 
 chance had thrown in his way was the most 
 dangerous rebel in Sweden ; and that it was fool- 
 ish clemency on the king's part to carry him a 
 prisoner to Jutland, instead of taking his life. 
 Wherever Gustav Rosen went, everybody said the 
 same, and everybody spoke of the imminent war 
 that was to realize the dream of the treaty of 
 Kalmar. For the first time in his life, Rosen found 
 himself in the midst of a great political movement. 
 
 Here no one doubted his being a loyal Dane, 
 just as on the other side they held him to be a 
 true Swede. Here, moreover, he was a man of 
 consequence. He suddenly saw himself taken at 
 his true value, — as a rich and noble gentleman 
 whose favor was worth the winning. Men hon-
 
 KARINE. yj 
 
 ored him, and women no less. The blood rose to 
 his face as the conviction seized him that Den- 
 mark was indeed his home. 
 
 But greatly as his fancy was pleased by the 
 honor and consideration he enjoyed, he was not 
 materially influenced by them. His heart was filled 
 with thoughts of Karine ; her image lent to all his 
 surroundings their pleasant charm. From Copen- 
 hagen he hastened to his estates in the interior of 
 Zealand, where faithless servants had long played 
 the master, and heaped up confusion toward the 
 day of reckoning. Notwithstanding his youth and 
 his poetic temperament, Gustav Rosen possessed 
 a clear understanding of affairs, and the palpable 
 dishonesty which met him on every side filled him 
 with indignation. The appointed time passed 
 quickly, and he was still obliged to remain to re- 
 store order and reform abuses. His chief delight 
 was to beautify to the utmost the most lovely spot 
 upon his estates. What Karine loved should greet 
 her here. A merry, gushing brook, led by an 
 abrupt declivity from its own bed into a deeper 
 artificial channel, should remind her of the 
 Falls of the Trollhatta. At last the day arrived
 
 78 KARINE. 
 
 when upon his swiftest horse he flew back to 
 Copenhagen. 
 
 Like a blow, the news met him here, that war 
 had been declared against Sweden, and that no 
 one was permitted to leave Denmark. 
 
 Gustav Rosen would go at any risk. He ap- 
 pealed to the most powerful men of his acquaint- 
 ance, through whose influence he hoped to gain 
 the desired permission, but in vain. They merely 
 shrugged their shoulders, referring him to the 
 king's command, and warning him that an at- 
 tempt to carry out his purpose would certainly 
 result in the loss of his possessions, if not of his 
 life. And yet he made it. The Swedish coast 
 lay so enticingly near in the golden evening light, 
 he fancied he could hear the roaring of the 
 Trollhatta, and see Karine's blue eyes gazing long- 
 ingly across the water. By means of large prom- 
 ises he persuaded a fisherman to carry him over ; 
 but when he had almost reached land, he fell into 
 the hands of a Danish cruiser, and was taken back 
 to Copenhagen a prisoner, under the dangerous 
 suspicion of being a Swedish spy. For weeks, 
 ignorant even of his name, they held him confined
 
 KARINE. 79 
 
 in a dismal tower, on meagre fare ; until, by a lucky 
 accident, he was enabled to convey a petition 
 into the king's hands. Before another day dawned 
 his prison-doors were opened. He was dismissed 
 with many apologies, and ordered to appear at the 
 palace on the following day. 
 
 King Christian II. was a sovereign whose char- 
 acter united the most glaring inconsistencies. As 
 a youth, although dissolute beyond his years, he 
 was capable of so strong and passionate an affection 
 for the beautiful Dyveke of Amsterdam, whom he 
 met at Bergen during his regency of Norway, that 
 he defied his father's threats, and endured the 
 heaviest punishment, rather than renounce his love. 
 His nature was fiercely despotic, and he pursued 
 whatever opposed his will with cunning and with 
 might to its utter destruction. He hated the 
 nobles of Denmark no less than those of Sweden, 
 because they refused to bend to his hand. More 
 revengeful, more cruel and crafty, than the most 
 abandoned wretches whose memory has been kept 
 alive by their crimes, he was yet brave and fear- 
 less in the midst of danger, and of a penetrating 
 intellect. The burghers clung to him because he
 
 8o KARINE. 
 
 humbled their common foe, — the nobles, — wisely 
 deeming it better to serve one master, however 
 tyrannical, who sought their good-will, than the 
 many who treated them with haughty contempt. 
 When, moreover, in furtherance of his far-reaching 
 schemes, he mingled with the people, no one dis- 
 played a more fascinating grace of manner, more 
 simple, winning cordiality, than Christian 11. No 
 one possessed such absolute control over his fea- 
 tures ; no one in a higher degree the dangerous 
 faculty of hiding the evil thoughts that lurked 
 beneath a calm exterior. His face wore the same 
 kindly smile, whether he accepted from a burgher's 
 hand a cup of wine wherein to drink his health, 
 or whether he offered a poisoned draught to the 
 victim of his displeasure. 
 
 Another tie bound his people still more closely 
 to their sovereign : King Christian was a Dane in 
 every fibre of his being, and resolved upon assert- 
 ing Denmark's traditional claim to supremacy over 
 Sweden. These islanders shared their king's re- 
 sentment against the barriers that confined his 
 power ; and a war of subjection against Sweden 
 united all discordant elements under his command.
 
 KARINE. 8 1 
 
 Soon after his accession to the throne, Christian 
 married Isabella, sister to the German Emperor, 
 Charles V. ; and, notwithstanding the curses with 
 which history has laden his memory, it might 
 seem as if some promise of better things had lain 
 hidden in his nature, from the fact that, through 
 all the misery of his later years, his wife, while she 
 lived, remained faithfully by his side. But it was the 
 beautiful Dyveke, who, in defiance of his queen, 
 occupied a wing of the royal palace, that ruled over 
 his heart. His policy was controlled by the cunning 
 mother of his mistress, the former innkeeper's wife 
 of Bergen, and by his unscrupulous confessor, Slag- 
 hok, who began his career as a barber's apprentice. 
 These two incited him to the most cruel and insane 
 measures against the nobles. The good star of his 
 destiny, the only one who threw a ray of warm light 
 into the gloom of Christian's heart, was that strange 
 child of Holland, the lovely " Dove " of Amster- 
 dam, — so merry, yet so sad ; without envy or 
 ambition ; loving him for his own sake, and seek- 
 ing, with wise and tender hands, to free him 
 from the net of evil counsel in which her mother 
 Sigbrit had entangled him. 
 
 6
 
 82 KARINE. 
 
 Had a longer life been granted the gentle, far- 
 seeing " Dove," history would presumably have had 
 no massacre of Stockholm to record. But Dyveke 
 died. Her death was shrouded in mystery ; 
 and the people, who loved her, accused the nobles 
 of having poisoned her. Christian, goaded to mad- 
 ness by her death, lent a willing ear to these 
 accusations. The heaviest suspicion rested upon 
 Torben Oxe, a near relative of the governor of 
 the palace at Copenhagen. He was thrown into 
 prison, and upon the rack confessed that he had 
 loved Dyveke before the king saw her. His execu- 
 tion was the beginning of a bloody persecution of 
 the nobility. Unnumbered lives were sacrificed, 
 and still Sigbrit was insatiable ; until at last the 
 people began to murmur at the extermination of 
 their noblest families, and cunningly diverted 
 the king's rage against Sweden and its lords. 
 The massacre of Stockholm was planned years 
 before its execution. 
 
 It was a curious circumstance that Christian H. 
 and Gustav Erikson, men of widely different 
 character and intentions, should have held the 
 same views. The former planned the annihilation
 
 KARINE. 83 
 
 of the Swedish nobility for the purpose of subju- 
 gating the country ; the latter, although abhorring 
 the Danish monarch's ghastly crime, discerned that 
 the longed-for independence of Sweden could be 
 achieved only through the utter subjection of its 
 magnates, whose jealousy opposed and thwarted 
 every plan in furtherance of their country's great- 
 ness. Gustav Vasa realized that the slaughter of 
 the nobles at Stockholm was not only the signal, 
 but the sole condition, of Sweden's deliverance 
 from Danish rule. 
 
 Christian II., since Dyveke's death, had grown 
 gloomier, more merciless than ever. The light 
 of his good star was quenched ; and his days were 
 spent in solitary brooding, in devising secret, 
 deadly plans. 
 
 It was thus Gustav Rosen's petition found 
 him. One among King Christian's many states- 
 manlike qualities was his intimate acquaintance 
 with the private concerns of his more prominent 
 subjects ; and his eagle glance took immediate 
 note of whatever might be turned to his own 
 profit. He cordially invited the youth to tell him 
 the story of his life, and smiled graciously when
 
 84 KARINE. 
 
 the latter dwelt upon Karine Stenbock's beauty. 
 Before Rosen had ended, he saw the dissonance 
 that marred the harmony of the young man's 
 nature, and its value to himself. He dismissed 
 him with great friendliness, refusing, it is true, the 
 coveted permission to return to Sweden, but 
 holding out the hope that in a few weeks he 
 himself would take him thither; and giving his 
 royal word that if Brita Stenbock had used the 
 intervening time to Rosen's disadvantage, he 
 himself would see to it that justice was done 
 him. 
 
 He then accompanied the young man to the 
 door of his apartment, and, to the astonishment 
 of the attending servants, gave him his hand at 
 parting, and bade him a cordial farewell, 
 
 Gustav Rosen could not for nineteen years 
 have grown up under Brita Stenbock's stern rule 
 and remained insensible to the gracious kindness of 
 Denmark's sovereign. Christian's dark deeds of 
 revenge had been before his time ; he scarcely 
 knew of them ; and their enthusiastic interest in 
 the Swedish war had wellnigh caused the Danes to 
 forget. Now and then, like a shadow, the thought
 
 KARINE. 85 
 
 fell upon Rosen's heart that Karine was a Swede. 
 But what signified an accidental difference of race 
 when people loved each other? His birth indeed 
 had made him a Swede, yet the boyish conviction 
 that Denmark was his home had been strength- 
 ened. It should be her home as well, as it had 
 been the home of his mother and of Queen 
 Dagmar, whose images, rising out of the early 
 days of his childhood, blended closely and ten- 
 derly in his memory. 
 
 The weeks lengthened into months, and only 
 his thoughts were free to cross the narrow waters 
 that parted him from Sweden ; nor could he even 
 send a message to his betrothed, explaining his 
 delay. At last Christian set his army in motion, 
 and Rosen was ordered to await his commands. 
 The wily king knew better than to ask Rosen to 
 bear arms against the land of his fathers, but he 
 was detained in the camp under various pretexts ; 
 and in spite of the many evidences of goodwill 
 shown him by the king, he was aware that sharp 
 eyes watched his every movement, and that an 
 attempt to reach Castle Torpa without permission 
 would be as sure to fail as did his flight across the
 
 86 KARINE. 
 
 Sund. Vainly struggling against liis impatience, 
 he followed the army. He witnessed the battle of 
 Bogesund, where Sten Sture fell and Sweden became 
 a prey to the invader, but he failed to grasp the 
 fatal meaning of this disastrous day. 
 
 Toward evening the king found him, leaning 
 against a tree, and gazing in mute despair upon 
 the clear, moonlit landscape. Christian wore his 
 full armor ; by his own personal prowess he had 
 helped to decide the issue of the battle. With a 
 mocking smile, he touched the dreamer's shoulder 
 and said, — 
 
 " If the Rose of the Trollhatta loved me, 
 Gustav Rosen, I should saddle my horse this very 
 moment, and go to her. My greetings to her, 
 and to Brita Stenbock, her mother. If the lady 
 objects to her son-in-law, bring her to Stockholm 
 in November; I shall expect to see you in my 
 capital then. Do you understand?" 
 
 Five minutes later, Gustav Rosen had mounted 
 his horse. He rode through the night, until 
 morning, and again until night, when he gave him- 
 self a few hours' rest, and, according to their agree- 
 ment, sent a messenger to Karine, to announce
 
 KARINE. 87 
 
 his coming. It was early in the afternoon when 
 he rode past Castle Torpa, to keep his appoint- 
 ment by the Trollhatta. There rose the venerable 
 elms, throwing their shadows upon the old house. 
 He left them lying to the right, and hurried on. 
 Nearer and nearer the cataract thundered its greet- 
 ing. It seemed as if he had but yesterday parted 
 from Karine, and that he must find her standing 
 where he had left her. 
 
 Had any one mentioned to him the name of 
 " Bogesund," or asked him who were the victors, 
 he would scarcely have known how to answer. 
 How well he remembered the path, — one more 
 turn, one moment more, and Karine would be in 
 his arms. 
 
 At last ! Here was the spot. With flushed 
 face he sprang from his horse and looked about 
 him. Was he mistaken? Had his memory de- 
 ceived him? Impossible ! Each stone, each tree, 
 was indelibly engraven on his heart. He hurried 
 up the hillside, searching each hiding-place of 
 their childish days ; but no tell-tale golden hair 
 shone from among the rocks. He called her name ; 
 but his voice was drowned in the noise of the 
 cataract.
 
 88 KARINE. 
 
 By degrees he came to his senses. The messen- 
 ger had doubtless mistaken the hour of his arrival. 
 She did not expect him so early. He ascended a 
 hillock commanding a view of Castle Torpa, and 
 waited ; he waited a long time, until the twilight 
 sank down upon the earth, and noisy flocks of crows 
 clamored and croaked above the TroUhatta, dis- 
 appearing like shadows in the darkness. Then, 
 with a heavy heart, he rode back to Torpa. 
 
 A thousand fears crowded through his brain. 
 Was Karine ill? Had Brita Stenbock perhaps — 
 He spurred his horse until it sped over the ground 
 like an arrow. In a few minutes he reached the 
 gate, dismounted, and flew up the steps. A maid- 
 servant met him. 
 
 "Where is Karine?" he asked, in breathless 
 haste. " Is she ill ? " 
 
 With a surprised look, she answered, " No ; the 
 young mistress is well, and expects you, Herr 
 Rosen." 
 
 He flung open a door j Karine rose hastily to 
 meet him. 
 
 " Gustav, Gustav ! " she exclaimed, " is it true 
 that Sten Sture has fallen? " Her cheeks glowed ;
 
 KARINE. 89 
 
 her eyes were fixed in eager expectancy upon his 
 face. 
 
 " Karine," he stammered, taking her hand, " did 
 you not know that I was coming? Since noon 
 I have waited for you by the TroUhatta." 
 
 As if awaking from a deep sleep, the girl looked 
 up, and, sobbing, fell upon his neck. " Oh, Gustav, 
 all is lost," she moaned. 
 
 " Say, rather, all is gained," he returned, " since 
 we have each other again." But, freeing herself, 
 she looked at him, her eyes full of reproach. 
 
 " You came six hours ago ; and only now you 
 bring us news of the battle?" 
 
 " I waited for you over yonder," he answered, 
 with confusion ; " did you not receive my message ? " 
 
 Almost angrily she exclaimed, " Is this a time 
 to think of child's play? I did not suppose you 
 would ride past Torpa," she added more gently. 
 
 "You promised: had the skies fallen, Karine, 
 I should have come," he whispered. " Has our 
 love become child's play, Karine?" 
 
 She quickly turned. " My poor Gustav," she 
 said tenderly, " I forgot how you must have suf- 
 fered at the Danish tyrant's hands."
 
 90 KARINE. 
 
 Gustav Rosen had been " in captivity," and in 
 the excitement and confusion of the battle had 
 made his escape ; so every one supposed, — it was 
 so probable. The young man himself was silent 
 upon the matter. He was as one stunned. The 
 stormy events of the day had rushed past his 
 observation without his perceiving their import. 
 Sometimes he tried to think, but his thoughts only 
 brought him unspeakable weariness. In Karine's 
 face, pale or flushed by turns, in the expression 
 of her eyes, he read her country's fate. She had 
 grown excited, restless, as never before. Two 
 souls seemed to dwell within her, looking out 
 upon the world with deep, prophetic eyes : the one, 
 with shining, tender glances, unfathomable as the 
 summer sky, loved Gustav Rosen ; the other, 
 gazing past her lover's face, fixed her troubled 
 eyes upon the distant future. Karine Stenbock's 
 first question was not for her father's safety, — 
 she asked if Sten Sture had fallen. 
 
 Another misfortune marked the day that saw 
 Sweden's downfall, — unnoticed in the stormy 
 course of public events, which take no note of pri- 
 vate griefs. The messenger who brought to Torpa
 
 KARINE. 91 
 
 the news of Gustav Rosen's arrival brought also 
 the first tidings of the issue of the battle. Brita 
 Stenbock rushed wildly from the house and wan- 
 dered away in the direction of Bogesund. They 
 found her the next day, lying fainting upon the 
 ground, fourteen miles from Torpa, — her cloth- 
 ing torn, and drenched with the rain that had 
 fallen during the night. For weeks she hovered 
 between life and death, and when at last she 
 awoke to consciousness, Brita Stenbock was stone- 
 blind. 
 
 But what are a woman's eyes, compared to 
 Sweden's fate? Karine wept bitter tears by her 
 mother's bedside, but a message from Stockholm 
 speedily made her forget her own sorrows. Her 
 father took part in the defence of the capital ; and 
 almost daily some secret word reached Torpa for 
 his wife, whose place Karine, scarcely eighteen, was 
 now obliged to fill. The force of circumstances 
 carried the young girl far beyond her years ; many 
 single threads of the resistance that, here and 
 there, in the mountains and by the sea, still met 
 the conqueror, were united in her hands. Thus 
 her mother, of necessity often left to herself, would
 
 92 KARINE. 
 
 have passed many lonely hours, had there not 
 been another to attend to her wishes. 
 
 Gustav Rosen had never loved his aunt ; but 
 the sight of her sorrow and helplessness filled him 
 with compassion. Brita Stenbock was a hard 
 woman ; she had no sigh for her lost sight, nor 
 thanks for the young man who sat unwearyingly 
 by her bedside, submitted to her capricious moods, 
 and received in silence her taunts and reproaches 
 when he failed to give her the information she de- 
 sired concerning matters in Stockholm. Gustav 
 Rosen felt more painfully the loss of her sight 
 than that of Sweden's liberty. To him she was 
 no longer the stern, unsmiling kinswoman whose 
 will was the law of her household, — she was only 
 Karine's mother. But if his unceasing care and 
 devotion earned small thanks from her, Karine's 
 love consoled him. Many a glance of gratitude 
 from her blue eyes met his, and, taking his hand, 
 she would say, " How good you are, Gustav ! " 
 
 But when messengers arrived from the seat of 
 war, then Karine's eyes were blind as her mother's 
 to all besides. She neither saw her lover nor 
 heard his pleading words. Another influence held
 
 KARINE. 93 
 
 her captive, like the ancient bard of whom the 
 legend runs, who stood by the brink of the Troll- 
 hatta, and, compelled by the terrible fascination of 
 the thundering stream, leaped into its waters. 
 
 Often in her childhood had she stood by the 
 Trollhatta and gazed at the spot where it was all 
 said to have happened, and she could not under- 
 stand it. 
 
 Now she and Rosen are sitting together as of old. 
 He jestingly tells her that she makes him think of 
 the ancient bard, and that the fate of Sweden is her 
 Trollhatta, seeking to take her from him. Then he 
 laughs, and tells her when that comes he will be 
 able to keep her from the devouring flood. 
 
 "What is it, Karine?" he asked suddenly. 
 The girl had thrown her arms about his neck 
 and rested her head on his breast. 
 
 She looked up tenderly, and kissed him. 
 
 " My poor Gustav, do not grow weary," she said 
 softly. " If you should grow weary and the stream 
 should catch me, it would be too late to save 
 me — " 
 
 She shuddered, and again threw herself on his 
 breast.
 
 94 KARINE. 
 
 " Never leave your Karine," she whispered. " I 
 love you so much — so much — " 
 
 Then Stockholm fell. Its brave defenders were 
 overwhelmed by fearful odds. They fled into the 
 interior and dispersed. Gustav Stenbock returned 
 to Torpa. Sweden was lost, and it only remained 
 for each individual to save his own life, if possible. 
 
 Dark days lay upon Sweden, although the sum- 
 mer and autumn of 1520 were of rare, unclouded 
 beauty. The new king seemed indeed to regard 
 all his subjects with the same paternal affection 
 and solicitude ; no longer to resent their resist- 
 ance, and to have forgotten and forgiven all past 
 offences. In this conciliatory tone he issued his 
 invitations to the lords, whether or not they had 
 borne arms against him, to meet him at Stock- 
 holm, where his coronation was to take place on 
 the first day of November. 
 
 To Gustav Rosen alone the dark days were 
 happy ones. It seemed as if Karine had awak- 
 ened from a Icjng stupor to health and happiness. 
 As in the olden time, she wandered with him over 
 the hills and through the forests. The troubled 
 dream had vanished from her eyes, and it seemed
 
 KARINE. 95 
 
 as if her thoughts had never harbored aught be- 
 yond the old, renewed, transfigured child-love. 
 Nothing was left to Gustav Stenbock in these 
 evil times, save to take comfort in his chil- 
 dren's happiness. Only Brita remained cold as 
 before toward Rosen, using all her skill to thwart 
 her husband's wishes, by continually devising new 
 pretexts for postponing her daughter's marriage. 
 But at last even she could find no plausible reason 
 for further delay, and the marriage was fixed for 
 the coming December. Then Gustav Stenbock 
 was invited, and Gustav Rosen commanded, to 
 appear at the king's coronation. 
 
 Karine's tears flowed more abundantly at this 
 parting than at the first. The separation was to be 
 short, but so they had once before believed. At all 
 events, it was inevitable, Stenbock himself urging 
 upon his nephew the necessity of going. For him- 
 self, he pleaded an injury to his knee as an excuse 
 for avoiding so fatiguing a journey. He, as httle as 
 the other invited guests, Gustav Erikson excepted, 
 dreamed of any danger ; but he deemed it con- 
 temptible to appear at the court of a conqueror 
 against whom he had so recently borne arms.
 
 g6 KARINE. 
 
 The very day upon which Gustav Folkung saved 
 Karine from the wild Trollhatta waters, he had 
 changed his mind. All who were bidden had 
 gone ; and he feared, chiefly for his children's sake, 
 needlessly to arouse the tyrant's anger. Without 
 telling his wife, of whose opposition he was certain, 
 he set out upon the road to Stockholm. 
 
 Near Lake Wetter he met Gustav Rosen, re- 
 turning thence. 
 
 Excited, deeply shocked by the fearful deed he 
 had witnessed, Rosen rode back to Torpa by Sten- 
 bock's side. There, carried away by the horror of 
 it, he spoke words that made it seem as if he too 
 felt the shame, the bitter wrong, done to Sweden. 
 An inner voice, perhaps, told him that a generous 
 heart must break away altogether from its child- 
 ish dreams and aspirations, should Denmark ap- 
 plaud this monstrous treachery against hundreds 
 of the noblest of another race. On that night, 
 perhaps, the youth came nearer than ever to for- 
 getting Gerda Rosen, Zealand's beech-woods, and 
 the sunny dreams of his childhood, and of un- 
 derstanding the other soul of Karine Stenbock.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 AND now all lay dead, from the Baltic to the 
 ice-fields of the North, beneath a sunless 
 sky, joyless, colorless, hopeless. Brita Stenbock 
 was fortunate, — she could not see the pale, sad 
 light of those gloomy days. But she heard all 
 the more sharply, and her keen ears took note 
 of whatever passed around her. 
 
 Since that memorable night, Gustav Rosen never 
 again forgot his mother nor Denmark. For a 
 moment he had stood as upon a swaying rock, 
 from whence a breath of air might cast him upon 
 this side or that. The storm that burst upon 
 Castle Torpa had stunned him ; the massacre of 
 Stockholm was wiped from his memory. 
 
 He neither thought nor spoke of it ; but his 
 heart seemed heavy and cold since the night when 
 
 7
 
 98 KARINE. 
 
 he had crossed the threshold of Karme's room. A 
 great, silent pain oppressed him. He accused her 
 of no disloyalty to himself; but it filled him with 
 grief that she should commit an act which might 
 throw a breath of suspicion upon her fair fame. 
 He realized that there was a something, a formless 
 shadow, which threatened to rise up between them 
 and divide their hearts. 
 
 Karine, in her unsuspecting innocence, failed to 
 understand his feeling. What she had done was 
 so unavoidable that it could not have been other- 
 wise. Now that no promise bound her to silence, 
 she freely told him all the details of the evening's 
 events. Gustav Folkung was not the first fugitive 
 who had found shelter in Castle Torpa. But 
 upon former occasions the persecuted wanderers 
 had applied to the lord of the castle himself; and 
 for the first time Karine was placed under the 
 necessity of acting upon her own responsibility. 
 Gustav Rosen listened in silence as she related 
 how the stranger's commanding manner had im- 
 pressed her ; how anxious she had felt when he 
 attempted to enter her room, since she had 
 pledged her word not to betray Folkung's pres-
 
 KARINE. 99 
 
 ence ; and how at last, daring all, she had hurried 
 through the crowd of Danish soldiers to reach the 
 rear door. 
 
 " I feared that in your surprise you might be- 
 tray him before I could warn you. Afterwards, 
 we heard you calling, ' This way, this way ! ' in the 
 gallery. Why did you call them? " 
 
 With touching innocence, her eyes questioned 
 his. A deep flush rose to his forehead as he 
 stammered, — 
 
 " Forgive me, Karine ; I was unnerved with what 
 I had seen at Stockholm, and I thought — I meant 
 — to mislead the Danes." 
 
 She shook her head. " It seems that you, whom 
 we call the stronger sex, now and then lose your 
 wits entirely, and commit the most foolish blunders. 
 Instead of misleading the Danes, your call brought 
 them upon us. One minute more, and it had 
 been too late. But why did you come through 
 the passage yourself ? " 
 
 A sudden light gleamed in the young man's 
 eyes, "After what I had seen in your room — " 
 He checked himself, and turned away. 
 
 "You should have known that some one had
 
 lOO KARINE. 
 
 been concealed there," she returned, " and you 
 should have been doubly careful ; your impru- 
 dence might have exposed me to the most dan- 
 gerous suspicions." 
 
 Gustav Rosen's eyes met hers ; they expressed 
 the same gentle reproach he had felt in her words. 
 But when she saw he was pained, the old, trusting 
 love beamed upon him ; and, deeply moved, he 
 fell upon his knees and stammered : — 
 
 " Forgive me, Karine ; forgive me ! " 
 
 She bcarcely knew what to forgive. A wide 
 difference lay between the suspicion of which she 
 spoke and that other suspicion for which his tears, 
 falling upon her hand, craved pardon. She only 
 said again, — 
 
 " You are so strange, Gustav." 
 
 She might rather have said, Jealousy is so 
 strange ! Jealousy, the double-headed monster, 
 which fastens upon its unhappy prey like a fever, 
 blinding his eyes, clouding his brain, shaking his 
 bones ; who disturbs his sleep with the quiver- 
 ing of a leaf, and makes him afraid of a shadow ; 
 whom in lucid moments he knows as his dead- 
 liest foe ; with whom he wrestles and struggles ;
 
 KAKINE. lOI 
 
 whom he conquers again and again, only to yield 
 anew. 
 
 Gustav Folkung's name never passed Rosen's 
 lips ; but it was burned in his heart, as if with red- 
 hot irons. 
 
 The month of December, and the day appointed 
 for the wedding, had long since come and gone. 
 Brita Stenbock said this was no time for merry- 
 making, and the winter was indeed a dreary one 
 at Castle Torpa. No human footprints in the snow 
 betokened intercourse with the outside world. The 
 only living creatures near and far were the rooks 
 that flew cawing about the great lonely building. 
 The severe, long-enduring cold tamed even them, 
 and they gathered in flocks around the kitchen 
 door, tearing the food from the servants' hands ; 
 or they waited for hours near the window, from 
 whence Karine, pitying their condition, fed them, 
 together with her doves. Among them were little 
 graceful creatures, who in the young girl's presence 
 lost their shyness, perching fearlessly upon her 
 shoulder, and pecking the grains of wheat from 
 her hand. 
 
 Through them, doubtless, she received tidings of
 
 102 KARINE. 
 
 the world beyond Torpa ; for she knew all that was 
 passmg, although no human foot crossed her father's 
 threshold. She" knew of the rising among the 
 Dalecarles, the "valley-men," into whose wild 
 country Gustav Vasa had fled. She was intimately 
 acquainted with the desperate expedients of the 
 unhappy men who, having escaped the massacre of 
 Stockholm, were hunted through the kingdom by 
 Christian's soldiers, and dragged to the scaffold. 
 At Jonkoping, a nobleman of the clan of the Rib- 
 blings, together with his two sons, eight and ten 
 years old, was beheaded in the king's presence. 
 When the headsman, moved by the artless prattle 
 of the children, refused to do his work, he was 
 replaced by another less tender of heart. 
 
 All these things were known at Torpa ; but 
 Brita Stenbock moved no muscle of her face ; no 
 word of anger escaped her lips. It was clear that 
 the house of Stenbock had made its peace with the 
 King of Sweden ; and this was a wise course. 
 Among the few noble families still left in Sweden, 
 it ranked highest, and might eventually, by the 
 favor of the king, lay claim to the most influential 
 position in the state, next to himself. Whispered 
 
 /
 
 KARINE. 103 
 
 maledictions and words of scorn rewarded this 
 treason to the cause of their country ; and it was 
 rumored that after King Christian's return to Den- 
 mark, Stenbock would be made regent of Sweden. 
 The few who refused to believe these reports were 
 silenced, for the news went abroad that the king 
 would, by Stenbock's invitation, visit Torpa on his 
 way to Denmark, and honor by his presence the 
 marriage of Karine Stenbock and Gustav Rosen. 
 
 The report was true. Brita Stenbock herself 
 had requested her nephew to ask this favor of the 
 king, and never had he more cheerfully obeyed 
 his aunt's bidding. 
 
 The April winds carried the first warm breath 
 from the south, when Gustav Rosen left Torpa 
 and rode toward Stockholm. Then he sent word 
 that the king had consented, and would reach 
 Torpa on the first of May. He himself could not 
 return sooner, since it was Christian's wish that he 
 should remain in Stockholm until that time, and 
 accompany him on the journey. 
 
 April is not a spring month in Sweden. The 
 snow still lay around Torpa, and the rooks still 
 fluttered expectantly about the windows, sat upon
 
 I04 KARINE. 
 
 Karine's shoulder, and whispered mto her ear the 
 mysterious tidings they had gathered abroad. 
 
 Sometimes they were startled by sudden noises 
 in the old house, that had long been so silent. 
 Now the sound of labor was heard all day long, 
 and the busy hands were not allowed to rest until 
 all should be in readiness for the reception of the 
 honored guest. The apartments assigned to the 
 king and his retinue were in the left wing of 
 the casde. In a large hall of the same wing, 
 an altar was erected ; and the whole house, in 
 accordance with Northern usage, was hung with 
 evergreen and mistletoe. 
 
 From morning until night, the noise and bustle 
 never ceased. Brita Stenbock's blind eyes saw 
 and guided all, and Karine's glistened strangely as 
 she carried out her mother's orders. Clearly, this 
 look had little to do with the altar they were build- 
 ing in the great hall. It was the look which 
 Gustav Rosen could not understand. 
 
 The night brought silence. The workmen slept 
 m quarters prepared for them in the outbuildings. 
 As soon as they left the house, Stenbock himself 
 closed the portal, and drew the heavy oaken bolt.
 
 KARINE. 
 
 105 
 
 Before daybreak no one entered, and from out- 
 side no sound was heard in the great building. 
 But within there were soft footsteps, gently falling, 
 as if Karine's rooks had found an entrance, and 
 were fluttering, under cover of darkness, upon the 
 narrow staircases, and through the dim passage- 
 ways.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 EARLY on the morning of the first of May, a 
 brilHant procession crossed the Wetter Lake. 
 Many an eye that gazed upon the bright pageant 
 may have looked the thoughts which the coward 
 lips dared not express, as the train reached the 
 shore and proceeded westward by the broad road, 
 upon which the peasants for weeks past had spent 
 days and nights of labor. In Dalecarlia, these lips 
 would scarcely have restrained their curses ; and 
 King Christian IL, with all his stately retinue, had 
 not ridden so calmly past the stalwart Sons of the 
 Valley. But here there was Httle to fear. They 
 called this the first of May ; but winter still lay 
 upon Sweden, and held it in its icy grasp.
 
 KARINE. 107 
 
 With gloomy looks Christian rode under the 
 pale May sun, whose chilly beams mocked the 
 name which men had given this month. 
 
 The horse that bore the king was black ; while 
 the crimson saddle-cloth flamed like blood upon 
 his dark flanks. With knitted brow the monarch 
 surveyed the groups by the wayside. He was 
 sterner than ever since that fateful night in Stock- 
 holm, and deep furrows seamed his brow. 
 
 The only one, perhaps, who took no note of 
 these things was Gustav Rosen. To him the 
 frosty sunbeams seemed warm and genial ; and to 
 him it was the breath of spring that blew across 
 the dreary landscape. He saw, only respectful 
 curiosity in the glances with which the peasants 
 met the approaching procession. By the king's 
 command, Rosen rode at his side ; now and then 
 the former spoke a few words, which the young 
 man, lost in his smiling dreams, scarcely heard ; 
 nor did the king wait for an answer, but followed, 
 as before, the current of his own thoughts. The 
 house which he was about to visit was of no small 
 significance for his plans. In Stenbock's person 
 the entire Swedish nobility, fugitives since the
 
 I08 KARINE. 
 
 coronation at Stockholm, rendered him homage ; 
 and in addition, he had won Gustav Rosen for his 
 cause. 
 
 They crossed the batde-field of Falkoping, and, 
 rising in his stirrups, the king glanced about him. 
 
 " We have done better than Dame Semiramis, 
 our grandmother," he suddenly said in a sharp 
 voice. " The Lady Margaret was not learned in 
 agriculture, and forgot that in reclaiming the wild 
 soil, it is necessary to burn out the stumps and to 
 fertilize the land with blood. Had she done so in 
 her day, the fair daughters of this land would doubt- 
 less have regarded us with friendlier eyes. What 
 think you, Rosen, — will the Rose of the TroUhatta, 
 for the sake of the office we have undertaken, 
 overlook our years, and find us to her liking?" 
 A short, harsh laugh followed the question, and his 
 eyes swiftly scanned the puzzled face of his com- 
 panion. Before the latter had found an answer, 
 he continued : " There lie the bones, Rosen, 
 which my brave forefathers and yours have heaped 
 together ; perhaps at this very moment my horse's 
 hoof is crushing the skull of an ancestor of yours, 
 who was fool enough to lose his life for such a
 
 KARINE. 1 09 
 
 thing as Sweden. We are wiser, Rosen ; we 
 bring about no Union of Kalmar, that treads flesh 
 and blood in the dust, — no, but another union, 
 from which new Hfe shall spring. Let us make 
 haste ; it is growing late, and the Rose of the 
 Trollhatta awaits us." 
 
 His Majesty of Sweden, Norway, and Denmark 
 was in a mirthful mood that day, as no one 
 had seen him since his coronation at Stockholm. 
 Those near him exchanged furtive glances of sur- 
 prise. His laughter boded no good. Then they 
 put spurs to their horses, and, like the Wild 
 Huntsmen, dashed after the king's black stallion 
 over the field of FalkiJping. 
 
 It was already twilight when the royal train 
 arrived at its destination, and Castle Torpa was 
 illuminated with hundreds of lamps and torches. 
 The master of the house, bareheaded, welcomed 
 his guest at the entrance. Behind a curtain in one 
 of the rooms of the first floor stood Karine, and 
 with the eyes that Gustav Rosen feared, she meas- 
 ured the king's retinue. Scarcely seeing her lover's 
 face, she glanced aside to the numerous horsemen 
 already filling the court ; to the numbers thronging
 
 I lO KARINE. 
 
 after them, their halberds gleaming in the fitful 
 torchlight. Karine's lips counted, and her face 
 grew pale. She staggered for a moment, clutched 
 the curtain that concealed her, and then silently 
 hurried away. 
 
 Below, Gustav Rosen held the king's stirrup 
 while he dismounted. Christian glanced at the 
 vast old building, now light as day, and conde- 
 scendingly offered his hand to his host. For a 
 second, Stenbock, like his daughter, seemed over- 
 come by a sudden faintness. He gazed at the 
 royal hand without touching it, then raised his 
 own to wipe away the cold drops that had 
 gathered upon his forehead. Christian observed 
 the gesture, and frowned. 
 
 • " You invited me last autumn, Stenbock, to visit 
 you; I received your message," he said, the irony 
 in his voice intelligible to Stenbock alone. " You 
 did not deign to accept our invitation to Stock- 
 holm ; but we know that you were excused. As 
 you see, we bear you no grudge, but come to 
 you to-day as your guest, and only await your 
 welcome." 
 
 Something in his words seemed to restore Sten-
 
 KARINE. 1 1 1 
 
 bock's strength. He grasped the proffered hand, 
 and in a firm voice bade the king welcome. 
 
 Together they ascended the stairs carpeted with 
 soft rugs. Seeing his people crowding after him, 
 the king turned. 
 
 " The King of Sweden is safe in Gustav Stenbock's 
 house," he said, "and needs no guard. Select 
 twelve knights to accompany us. Captain Torben ; 
 the rest may remain below. Come, Stenbock, we 
 are impatient to see the Rose we are to place in 
 Rosen's hand to-morrow;" and again Christian 
 laughed. 
 
 At his first words Stenbock had grown whiter 
 than the wall against which he leaned ; but he 
 quickly recovered himself, and conducted his 
 guests to the halls of the left wing, where Brita 
 Stenbock awaited them. She stood erect and 
 stately in the middle of the first room. 
 
 "Do I stand before King Christian of Sweden? " 
 she asked in a firm voice. 
 
 Stenbock assented, and for the first time Chris- 
 tian's rigid features betrayed surprise. He knew 
 that he was in the presence of Denmark's most 
 embittered enemy, — a woman of whom he be-
 
 112 -KARINE. 
 
 lieved that she would more willingly bow her head 
 to the executioner's sword than to him. A gleam 
 of real pleasure quivered over his dark face as 
 Brita Stenbock continued, — 
 
 " You are welcome, King Christian ! I thank 
 you in the name of my country ; for I trust that 
 your sojourn in our house will be for Sweden's 
 good." Brita Stenbock neither hesitated nor turned 
 pale as she spoke. Her gray head proudly raised, 
 her sightless eyes looking straight before her, she 
 stood waiting for the hand of the king, who in 
 evident confusion took hers and led her to the 
 head of the long table in the adjoining banqueting- 
 hall. She seated herself by his side, and fulfilled 
 her duties as hostess as though her eyes were 
 overlooking all. It was evident, from the pre- 
 cision with which the blind woman maintained 
 the dignity of her house, that she must be of ex- 
 traordinary character. Now King Christian raised 
 his glass and touched that of his hostess, held 
 with an unwavering hand. 
 
 "To the welfare of this house ! " he said, and 
 drank. 
 
 " To the welfare of Sweden ! " responded Brita
 
 KARINE. 1 1 3 
 
 Stenbock, calmly emptying her glass and leaning 
 back in her chair. The lights from the walls were 
 reflected in the massive silver upon the table, and 
 sparkled in the red wine ; a delicious odor of 
 savory meats filled the hall. The king's look 
 bespoke contentment, although his eyes roved 
 searchingly about the room. By degrees a cer- 
 tain impatience became visible, and, turning to 
 his hostess, he asked, — 
 
 " And the queen of the festivities, to which we 
 were bidden, where is she? Methinks I see a 
 pair of expectant eyes that ask the same question, 
 and with greater right than I." 
 
 He waved his hand in the direction of Gustav 
 Rosen, who sat mute in the midst of the guests, 
 blind and deaf to his surroundings. As soon as 
 he was able to leave the king, he had gone to seek 
 his betrothed ; but he failed to find her. Those 
 he asked had just seen her, yet no one knew 
 where she was. Lost in thought, Rosen saw noth- 
 ing of the king's gesture. But at the same mo- 
 ment he sprang to his feet, radiant with joy, for 
 she of whom he was thinking appeared on the 
 threshold. 
 
 8
 
 114 KARINE. 
 
 Karine was still pale ; but in the ruddy light of 
 the torches her pallor enhanced her beauty. She 
 wore a heavy white trailing dress, confined at the 
 waist by a blue girdle, — blue and white being the 
 Swedish colors. Her hair lay in sunny luxuriance 
 upon her shoulders, and she was indescribably 
 lovely as, with queenly bearing, she stepped into 
 the full light of the room. All eyes turned toward 
 her ; every hand that had lifted a glass sank 
 down. 
 
 Only two, however, rose to their feet, — Gustav 
 Rosen and King Christian. 
 
 "Truly, Rose of the TroUhatta ! " the latter ex- 
 claimed, approaching her, " I need not hear your 
 name, to know who you are. You are guilty of 
 high treason for every moment you deprive us of 
 your presence ; and as a punishment we will for 
 this evening part you from your betrothed. The 
 Queen of Sweden is not in the place which belongs 
 to her, — at my right hand ; and after her, you 
 have the first claim to it. And," turning to the 
 guests, " we ask you all to follow our example, and 
 greet the queen of the evening." 
 
 Karine met her lover's eyes with a hasty wel-
 
 KARINE. 1 1 5 
 
 coming glance, then with proud dignity took her 
 place by the side of Christian, who, standing, 
 emptied his glass in her honor. The courtiers 
 bowed deeply before the daughter of their host. 
 Something in the king's glance, as it rested upon 
 her face, caused them to show her deeper rever- 
 ence than had she been the queen herself in her 
 palace at Copenhagen. Gustav Rosen scarcely 
 trusted his eyes. Was this Karine, who, for her 
 country's tyrant, could forget her love? Her eyes 
 — with the look he feared — hung upon every 
 movement of King Christian, Yet she smiled 
 upon him, and he drank the wine she poured 
 into his glass. 
 
 "She is lovelier than the Dove of Amsterdam," 
 the courtiers furtively whispered to each other. 
 " She will bring good fortune to Sweden." 
 
 Had Karine Stenbock discerned but one road 
 leading to Sweden's salvation, — the road which 
 Esther in the olden time took to the throne of 
 the Persian king ? Truly, you are a strong woman, 
 Karine, and posterity will admire, perhaps bless 
 you ; but your love was false, your heart worthless. 
 Pause, Karine, before it is too late ! You still
 
 Il6 KARINE. 
 
 tremble, and your eyes, as if overcome by a sud- 
 den dread, still seek your father's glance. Is it 
 he who has sold you for Sweden's deliverance, — 
 whose unwavering eye gives his daughter cour- 
 age to tread the path that leads to treason against 
 Gustav Rosen? 
 
 It was a merry night, such as Torpa had not 
 witnessed for many years. King Christian was 
 ordinarily of most temperate habits; since the 
 massacre of Stockholm he drank no wine that 
 had not first been tasted by another. But by 
 Karine's side his suspicions vanished, and he emp- 
 tied his glass as often as her white hands filled it. 
 His eyes hung upon her face ; the wine overmas- 
 tered his tongue, and he no longer whispered, but 
 spoke loud enough for Brita Stenbock to hear every 
 word he addressed to her daughter. But, like her 
 husband, she sat immovable upon her richly carven 
 chair. Gustav Rosen filled his glass frequently 
 from the silver flagon before him. He sought to 
 escape from his thoughts, and dull his brain. 
 Midnight was past. The king evidently wished 
 to withdraw, yet hesitated. He opened his lips, 
 and closed them again.
 
 KARINE. 1 1 7 
 
 " Lovely Karine," he whispered at last, " it is 
 time for us to part ; but before the day breaks I 
 must speak with you again. Will you await me ? 
 If you refuse, I will have my horse saddled now, 
 immediately, and another may lead you to the 
 altar — if I permit it. Do not answer. Drink to 
 me if you consent." 
 
 This time the king had spoken so low that no 
 one but Karine heard him. She lifted her glass, 
 but her hand trembled, and the red wine ran upon 
 the table. Sorely troubled, her eyes sought her 
 father's. 
 
 "Courage," said Stenbock's unflinching glance, 
 " courage ! " and Karine touched the king's glass 
 with her own, and drank. 
 
 "See to it," he whispered, " to have my people 
 so lodged that they will not disturb us. I have 
 much to say to you, Karine — " 
 
 The girl's strength was spent. Wearily her 
 head sank back against her chair. The king 
 rose. 
 
 " Our queen is tired," he said in a loud voice, 
 once more filling his glass. " Let us drink to her 
 pleasant dreams."
 
 Il8 KARINE. 
 
 Once more the glasses rang, and the courtiers 
 bowed before the new sun that had so unex- 
 pectedly risen before their eyes at midnight. 
 Then they prepared to follow the king ; but he 
 restrained them with a motion of his hand. 
 
 " We require no guard, Captain Torben, and 
 wish to rest undisturbed. Our hospitable host has 
 no doubt provided lodgings, where you can recover 
 from the effects of his excellent wines. We thank 
 you, Stenbock. Rosen will permit us the privilege 
 of saluting our hostess, according to the old cus- 
 tom." At these words he threw his arm around 
 Karine's shoulder, and kissed her forehead. " In 
 an hour," he whispered. 
 
 Esther's battle was won. " In an hour," she 
 calmly repeated.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ALL is silent in Castle Torpa. Night lies 
 upon Sweden ; the shadows of clouds chase 
 one another in the moonlight over the battle-fields 
 of Falkoping and Bogesund, and the waves of 
 the Malar plash against the deserted palace-steps 
 at Stockholm, washing away the last blood-stains 
 from the granite masonry. They carry westward 
 the new spring's greeting ; the waters of Hjelmar 
 hear it, and speed it farther over the boundless 
 surface of Lake Wener, Then the Trollhatta 
 thunders it forth : The spring is at hand. 
 
 Karine's rooks have heard the tidings, and are 
 abroad this moonlit May night. Perhaps they 
 fear the glittering halberds, that crowd the court 
 and garden of Torpa, and they therefore assemble
 
 120 K A MINE. 
 
 by the lonely brink of the Trollhatta. One day of 
 sunshine has not conquered the snow, which still 
 covers the rocky hillside ; and upon it the black 
 figures are distinctly visible. The night is so clear, 
 one might count the silent figures, as they approach 
 by the Gota-Elf, — there are just forty of them ; 
 and when they have crossed the river, they climb 
 the steep shore, and suddenly disappear, one by 
 one, in the earth, where they have no doubt built 
 their nests ; and as if scattered by the wind, they 
 have vanished from the snow-covered moonlit 
 valley. 
 
 Only the steady footfall of the guards, pacing to 
 and fro, disturbs the silence that rests upon Torpa. 
 Within the vast building, the lamps and torches 
 have been extinguished. On the second floor, 
 Captain Torben and his companions rest upon soft 
 couches. Stenbock's wine has thrown them into a 
 deep sleep, and none of them hear the roaring of 
 the Trollhatta, that thunders through the night. 
 
 In a lofty, dimly lighted room. Christian II. re- 
 clines in a curiously carved armchair. For a 
 moment he throws himself upon the silken couch, 
 above which glitters a golden crown ; but excite-
 
 KARINE. 121 
 
 ment makes him restless. With fixed eyes he 
 gazes upon the crimson curtains, which, in the 
 uncertain hght of the lamp, fall like streams of 
 blood from the ceiling to the floor. Softly they 
 are stirred by the air from the open window, and 
 it seems to him as if the blood flowed slowly down 
 the wall. Since last autumn the monarch of the 
 kingdoms of the North has grown timorous and 
 superstitious. The red color makes him shudder : 
 he starts from his seat, and stares at the waving 
 curtains. 
 
 No ; at this moment he is not thinking of the 
 bloody heads that, last November, rolled at his 
 feet. A stronger fascination has banished his fear. 
 His fancy sees another head, whose golden hair 
 falls upon snowy shoulders. 
 
 You have won, Esther. By to-morrow morning 
 you will have vanquished the savage conqueror of 
 your country; and Sweden's deliverance, after 
 which your eyes have yearned so long in vain, 
 rests in your white hand. 
 
 Karine stands in her chamber, her hand pressed 
 upon her heart. Her face is as pale as when 
 she sat at table by Christian's side. But she no
 
 122 KARINE. 
 
 longer tremble-s, and she too watches anxiously in 
 the death-like silence. Now her listening ear 
 catches the sound of a soft footfall approaching, 
 not by the passage-way, but through the adjoining 
 room, and pausing at the door, through which, last 
 year, Gustav Folkung looked unseen upon Brita 
 Stenbock's face. An almost inaudible tapping, 
 and hastily, noiselessly, Karine draws the bolt, and 
 opens the door. In a moment Gustav Rosen's 
 arms are holding her close, and he whispers, — 
 
 " You would have driven me mad, Karine, — but 
 for this. After a month of restless days and nights, 
 I return, only to see you at a distance — without a 
 look, without a greeting — " His voice rose with 
 emotion ; the girl freed herself from his arms, and 
 anxiously covered his lips with her hand. 
 
 " Hush ! " she whispered, her lips close to his ear, 
 and her eyes fastened upon the opposite door. 
 " In a few moments King Christian will enter 
 through that door. I am afraid of him, and 
 therefore I called you. You are my best pro- 
 tector, Gustav; and you will wait in the next 
 room. It was all to be different, and my mother 
 bade me tell you nothing. But now the court and
 
 KARINE. 123 
 
 garden are filled with armed men, and everything 
 is changed. 1 could not have undertaken it if I 
 had not known that you would be with me." 
 
 The young man stared, speechless ; he failed to 
 understand her meaning. More closely her lips 
 were pressed to his ear ; the few hasty words she 
 whispered made him stagger with horror. 
 
 "Here — " he stammered breathlessly, " where I 
 have brought him — where my honor is pledged — 
 never ! " he stammered, breathless. 
 
 Karine's blue eyes rested with a troubled light 
 upon his face. 
 
 " Gustav," she asked with faltering lips, " are 
 you not a Swede ? Only to a Swede can I give my 
 hand." 
 
 Anxiously, with despair in his face, he gazed at 
 her. " The time presses ; the king may at any 
 moment leave his room," she continued hurriedly. 
 " The gleam of his light, as he comes through the 
 gallery, will be the signal for Gustav Folkung — " 
 
 She paused to listen. Her eyes, turned away 
 from Rosen's face, did not see the frenzied light 
 that suddenly flickered over his disturbed features. 
 One word only was needed to drive him to utter
 
 124 KARINE. 
 
 madness, and Karine had uttered it, — the name 
 which the two-headed monster in his heart clutched 
 at, and held up in triumph. 
 
 "Gustav Folkung," and he laughed aloud. 
 " Is he coming to take you away ? — Gustav 
 Folkung." 
 
 Unconsciously he thrust aside Karine, who clung 
 to him, and sprang to the door, which he flung 
 open. 
 
 The sound of his voice, the resonant tread of 
 his hurrying feet, seemed to have wakened an echo 
 in the furthermost end of the passage leading to 
 the steps in the rear of the house. A murmur of 
 voices is heard from below ; objects are moving 
 confusedly; some one cries, "Treason!" another 
 exclaims, " Back ! " but a firmer voice com- 
 mands, " Forward ! " These are Karine's rooks. 
 They crept into the earth ; and out of the 
 earth they rise again. None will give the other 
 precedence ; crowding closely together, they rush 
 forward through the narrow gallery. 
 
 One second more, and the man in flowing 
 garments, who is coming nearer, shading his light 
 with his hand, will find his retreat cut ofl". King
 
 KARINE. 125 
 
 Christian's fevered senses perceived nothing. He 
 advanced. 
 
 Then Gustav Rosen, like a madman, springs 
 toward the king, and cUitches his arm. 
 
 " Save yourself ! " he cries, and forces him back 
 toward his apartment. " You are betrayed ! Gustav 
 Vasa has entered the castle by an underground 
 passage ! " 
 
 These are not rooks that throng the corridors ; 
 they are Dalecarles, of herculean build, each of 
 whom might have carried the monarch of the 
 Northern kingdoms, like a little child, upon his 
 hands. Gustav Stenbock is their leader ; and head- 
 long they rush onward. The plan has miscarried. 
 Silence is now no longer necessary, but haste. 
 
 "Where is the tyrant?" 
 
 They have met Karine, hurrying after her lover, 
 and she shows them the way. In her eyes the 
 soft beams are quenched ; her lips quiver with 
 scorn and anger ; she calls, " He has fled to his 
 room ; Gustav' Rosen has betrayed us ! " 
 
 A wild curse leaps from the lips of the foremost ; 
 and, sword in hand, Gustav Folkung hastens 
 away in the direction indicated.
 
 126 KARINE. 
 
 The fugitives are still in the corridor. The 
 king's light went out, and they have missed the 
 door. Their life, Sweden's fate, hangs upon a 
 second of time. 
 
 But Gustav Rosen knows even in the dark every 
 footbreadth in Castle Torpa. His groping fingers 
 have found the door ; and, drawing the king into 
 the room, he pushes the bolt, just as Folkung's 
 hand clutches the brass knob on the outside. 
 
 But the door resists, and in answer, they hear 
 Gustav Rosen's voice calling out of the window : 
 
 " Help ! Help ! They will murder the king ! " 
 
 With one rude blow the stillness of the night 
 has vanished, A hundred calls are heard from every 
 side. With clanking arms the soldiers mount the 
 broad staircase. Overhead, Captain Torben and 
 his companions leap from their beds ; half dressed, 
 they grasp their swords and stagger downstairs. 
 They meet Stenbock and his men, endeavoring to 
 enter the king's apartment through the banquet- 
 ing-hall. The spears with which the Dalecarles 
 are hunting the royal bear in his den, strike with 
 deadly force the naked breasts of the Danes. 
 Still heavy with sleep, Knut Torben totters toward
 
 KARINE. 127 
 
 the gray-haired, Berserk form of the lord of the 
 castle, and cries, — 
 
 " We were sleeping under your roof, Gustav Sten- 
 bock. Is this Swedish hospitality? " 
 
 " Stockholm's hospitality, Knut Torben. We 
 learned it from you," he thunders, as his sword 
 smites the captain's temple ; who with a cry 
 sinks to the ground beside the very chair upon 
 which, a few hours since, he sat, drinking to the 
 daughter of the man who has crushed his careless 
 skull. Around the table the combat rages. Silver 
 vessels fly through the air ; but the dying Danes 
 have for a moment forced the valley-men away 
 from their king's door, and Rosen's call brings 
 help from all quarters. The torches which the 
 soldiers have lighted make the halls and passages 
 light as day. 
 
 " Back ! We are lost ! " shouts Stenbock. The 
 Dalecarles are but forty, to a hundred Danes. It 
 would be madness longer to pursue their object ; 
 and now they are in danger of seeing their retreat 
 cut off. Stenbock calls to Folkung, who turns to 
 Karine, standing like one stunned, and gazing at 
 the approaching Danes.
 
 128 KARINE. 
 
 " We will meet again, Christian," he mutters 
 between his teeth. Then, with a strength surpas- 
 sing even that of his wild followers, he forces the 
 half-senseless girl c^way; the others cover his 
 retreat. Like Leonidas' band at Thermopylae, 
 they struggle in the narrow passage. Their short 
 weapons are powerless against the Danish halberds ; 
 but in falling, their bodies block the way. 
 
 Now Christian, in his coat of mail, steps through 
 the door that has baffled his assailants. Gustav 
 Rosen follows. Deadly pale, he surveys the tem- 
 pest which his outcry has brought down upon the 
 tranquil home of his childhood. The torches throw 
 a lurid, hideous glare upon the mute faces on the 
 ground. His eye catches a glimpse of something 
 white at the end of the passage. It is Karine's 
 dress. Roused from his lethargy, he runs back, 
 and hurries down the main stairway ; he leads the 
 soldiers, whom he still finds in the court, around 
 the corner into the garden to the door, through 
 which Karine, many months ago, secretly admitted 
 Gustav Folkung. 
 
 " Here ■ " he cries ; and with the weighty halberd, 
 snatched from the hand of the nearest Dane, he
 
 KARINE. 129 
 
 strikes against the wood. A hundred blows follow 
 his. The door yields, and with a crash falls under 
 Rosen's impetuosity. Again, upon the same spot, 
 he stands face to face with Gustav Folkung's flam- 
 ing eyes. But they have no power over him. 
 Heedless of the spears of the Dalecarles, who 
 throng after their leader, he grasps the shoulder 
 of his betrothed. She lies senseless in Folkung's 
 arm, while with his right hand he thrusts open the 
 heavy oaken door that leads downward into the 
 earth. 
 
 *' Karine ! " cried the youth, " Karine ! " 
 
 In his voice lay despairing anguish, such as might 
 have called the dying to life. It rouses Karine ; 
 the cry of love trembles through every fibre of her 
 heart ; she opens her eyes and looks at him. 
 
 " Karine ! " 
 
 " Go, traitor ! " A shudder runs through her 
 body, and her hand motions him back. 
 
 Gustav Rosen had raised his arm to seize Folkung, 
 but before Karine's glance his hand sank powerless. 
 Her white dress vanished, as if swallowed by the 
 earth, behind the massive door. Motionless, as if 
 struck by lightning, the youth stands face to face 
 
 9
 
 I ^o KARIXE. 
 
 with the fierce v^alley-men, the soldiers endeavoring 
 to shield him. At this end of the passage the con- 
 flict begins anew, but this time it turns in favor of 
 the Swedes, who, surrounded on all sides, succeed 
 with the strength of despairing men in forcing 
 the Danes to the outer door, and maintaining. their 
 own position. The soldiers, believing them pris- 
 oners within, abate their eagerness, not to drive 
 the desperate men to extremities. A dozen Dale- 
 carles, pierced by halberds, lie upon the ground, 
 among half a hundred of the king's mercenaries ; 
 but the remaining ones reach the oaken door, 
 which the last one, fighting on its threshold, closes 
 with a mighty crash, and secures on the inside 
 with heavy bolts. Wounded and bleeding, he fol- 
 lows his mates, who, as if treading on living coals, 
 speed through the long dark passage. It has, from 
 time immemorial, saved many lives in seasons of 
 sore distress ; it saves them now. 
 
 The foremost, indeed, bears in his arms another 
 burden than that which he came to carry away. 
 It was to be a man ; and it is a young girl. He 
 should have worn upon his head the golden crown 
 of the three kingdoms of the North ; and from
 
 KARINE. I 3 I 
 
 Karine's unconscious brow flow only dishevelled 
 masses of golden hair. Nearer and stronger their 
 footsteps resound beneath the trembling earth. 
 They have reached the spot where a few hours 
 since the rooks disappeared among the rocks. 
 With his knee, Folkung forces aside the stone that 
 closes the entrance, and, with the fresh air that 
 meets them, the deafening roar of the Trollhatta 
 strikes their ears. It rouses Karine, and her limbs 
 shiver in the cool breath of the early dawn. Ten- 
 derly, as if she were a child, her protector folds 
 his cloak around her, and turns stream-upwards. 
 The others follow. A shrill whistle, an answer from 
 the opposite shore of the Elf, and a broad, dark 
 object rapidly crosses the river. It proves to be a 
 large ferry-boat, brought dowfl from the lake. It 
 strikes the bank, and already Folkung is within, 
 resting his charge upon some rugs at the bottom 
 of the boat. Stenbock follows with knitted brows, 
 and the Dalecarles crowd after him. Suddenly 
 there is confusion. Looking about her, Karine 
 exclaims, " Where is my mother?" 
 
 Stenbock utters a cry : " We have forgotten her ; 
 she is in the tyrant's hand ; we must go back."
 
 132 KARINE. 
 
 " Impossible," answers their leader's calm voice ; 
 " it would be certain death, and altogether useless." 
 Stenbock refuses to listen, and forces his way through 
 the crowded boat, when a cry reaches them, — 
 
 "Here they are — hold them — into the water 
 — a boat! " 
 
 Gustav Rosen, the only one acquainted with the 
 subterranean road, in his despair, after the last of 
 the Dalecarles had disappeared, gathered together 
 a few soldiers, and led them over the hills to the 
 Trollhatta. But again he came too late. Folkung's 
 commanding voice was heard, — 
 
 " Fonvard ! Sweden is of more value than a 
 woman, even though her name be Brita Stenbock." 
 
 The oars struck the water, and with lightning 
 speed the boat cleft the waves. The Danes raised 
 their spears, to throw them into the dense crowd 
 of fugitives ; but Rosen sprang before their weap- 
 ons, crying in terror, — 
 
 "No — you will kill her — no!" Astonished, 
 the soldiers obeyed. Then they sprang forward and 
 held the youth, who had plunged into the water 
 to swim after the boat. They drew him back and 
 listened indifferently to his heart-rending wail, —
 
 KARINE. 133 
 
 " Karine — Karine ! " 
 
 His call was distinctly heard by those in the 
 boat; by all but Gustav Stenbock, whose gray 
 head was buried in his cloak, to hide the tears 
 that rose from his heart, — as scorching and as 
 hopeless as the young man's, who mourned for what 
 he never possessed. But Folkung and Karine heard 
 the loud, despairing cry, — 
 
 "Gustav Vasa, I will do whatever you com- 
 mand me ; give her back to me, Gustav Vasa," 
 
 Karine started, and in the uncertain light peered 
 eagerly into her companion's face. " By what name 
 does he call you? Are you Gustav Erikson?" 
 
 Folkung nodded. " I am, Karine ; you hear it 
 by your lover's last greeting." 
 
 He smiled bitterly as he said it, and quickly 
 stepped before the girl, to shield her from the 
 spears that suddenly came hissing through the 
 air, and fell, splashing, into the water. The Danes, 
 when they heard the Swedish leader's name, were 
 no longer to be controlled ; and, howling with rage, 
 they hurled after him their deadly missiles. But 
 the distance was widening, and, with a few strokes 
 of the oar, the Dalecarles were beyond their reach.
 
 1 34 KARINE. 
 
 " Do you wish to go back to Gustav Rosen, 
 Karine?" asked Folkung. "Say so, and I myself 
 will take you to him." It was the same sharp 
 voice with which he had spoken to her last 
 autumn, by the Trollhatta ; and it seemed as if 
 the motion of the boat were trembling through 
 his words. Karine answered, without hesitation : 
 
 " Never ! between us lies an abyss, as between 
 this side of the Trollhatta and that. My heart no 
 longer belongs to him who could betray Sweden." 
 
 Gustav Erikson's strong lips trembled visibly. 
 " But to him who delivers Sweden, Karine ? Does 
 your heart belong to him who frees Sweden from 
 Christian's yoke?" 
 
 She shuddered ; she tried to speak, but at the 
 same moment the boat struck the shore ; she 
 staggered, and would have fallen, had not Gustav 
 Vasa's arm caught her. He held her cold hand 
 in his, and, bending down, whispered again, — 
 
 " Who can deserve this hand, Karine?" 
 
 " This hand — " it had already grown so light 
 that the color in her cheeks, changing from pallor to 
 burning red, could be plainly seen ; her glowing eyes 
 sought her father's bowed form, and then, stead-
 
 KARINE. T35 
 
 fastly looking into the face of the man by her 
 side, she continued — " this hand is free, Gustav 
 Erikson, and shall belong to him who achieves two 
 thinsfs — " The waters of the Trollhatta drown 
 Karine's hurried words. These are the waters 
 of which the legend relates that a bard stood upon 
 their shores, and, overcome by the fascination of 
 the thundering stream, leaped headlong into its 
 depths. 
 
 Did she think of it, as she shivered in the morn- 
 ing air, and gazed upon the grim, rolling waves? 
 Her face was grave. Her companion's face changed 
 when he heard her whispered words. Then he bowed 
 deeply before Karine Stenbock, and answered : 
 
 " I said once that Sweden was of more value 
 than a woman. You are the first woman, Karine 
 Stenbock, that has shaken my will. Upon your 
 head be Sweden's future, if it is lost for such a 
 cause." 
 
 Again he bowed with knightly grace, and joined 
 the Dalecarles, who had already landed. Choos- 
 ing four from among their number, he spoke to 
 them in a low voice. The hearts of the valley- 
 men were unacquainted with fear; otherwise the
 
 136 KARINE. 
 
 expression of their faces might have been mistaken 
 for alarm ; neither did they dream of disobeying 
 their leader. At a sign from him, they re-entered 
 the boat, while he approached Stenbock. The 
 few words he spoke brought new life into the sad 
 eyes, and Stenbock made a hasty motion toward the 
 boat. But Gustav Vasa detained him, speaking 
 more urgently, until Stenbock reluctantly assented, 
 and, grasping the young man's hand, shook it long 
 and heartily, after true Swedish fashion. 
 
 '' They all obey him," thought Karine, observing 
 his proud, almost regal bearing. He joined the 
 four already in the boat, and remained standing, 
 as with heavy strokes they pushed from the shore. 
 
 A greeting from the departing boat interrupted 
 Karine's thoughts. She waved her hand, involun- 
 tarily calling, " Gustav — " and quickly remem- 
 bering, she added, " Farewell, Gustav Vasa ! "
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE first pale rays of the morning sun 
 were struggling with the red glare of the 
 torches when Gustav Rosen returned to Torpa. 
 His feet bore him mechanically ; his cheeks were 
 sunken, his eyes hollow, as if some deadly disease 
 had seized him over-night. Unwittingly he walked 
 on, drawn to the scene of his happiness and his 
 misery. In the courtyard he met an officer who 
 told him that the king had asked for him ; and, 
 taking the young man's arm, he led him upstairs 
 to the monarch's apartment. To those acquainted 
 with his nature, it was evident that King Christian 
 was in a dangerous mood. Guarded by numerous 
 soldiers, the men and maid servants of Stenbock's 
 household stood huddled together in a corner 
 of the room. Christian, seated near the window,
 
 138 KARINE. 
 
 examined them separately. Their evidence was 
 always the same : they had known nothing of the 
 contemplated attack, and were as completely taken 
 by surprise as the king himself. The truth of 
 their statement could not be doubted, since none 
 of them had thought of escaping in the confu- 
 sion, and they were driven together without any 
 resistance on their part. King Christian himself 
 seemed convinced ; and, as he dismissed them one 
 by one, he smiled pleasantly, saying, — 
 
 " I believe you ; I see that your rest was need- 
 lessly disturbed. It shall not occur again. Go!" 
 
 At a sign from him, they were led away ; but 
 as each one approached the stairs, he was met 
 from behind by the executioner's sword, and sum- 
 marily despatched. One after the other had dis- 
 appeared, until only a young maid-servant was 
 left. Christian seemed to weary of his monotonous 
 sport ; he rose and went to the window. Then 
 turning, he scanned the features of her bright, 
 expressive face, which, being of the true Swedish 
 tj^pe, bore a remote resemblance to that of Karine 
 Stenbock. 
 
 " Down by the stairs lie the heads of a dozen
 
 KARINE. 139 
 
 fools. If you wish to keep your own, go down, 
 gather them into your apron, and bring them to 
 me." The girl fell down, fainting ; he beckoned : 
 
 " Carry her away, and let her do as I ordered." 
 
 "The girl resembles the daughter of that 
 scoundrel, Stenbock, — probably a half-sister," 
 whispered one of the courtiers to his neighbor. 
 The speaker started, for Christian turned his 
 head, and a terrible glance met the imprudent 
 man. Then the king rushed toward the tottering 
 girl, and clutching her shoulder with an iron grip, 
 glared into her face with an expression of beast- 
 like ferocity. 
 
 " He is right : she is of the same brood," he 
 muttered ; " this is the face that fooled me." 
 
 And before she had time to plead for mercy, 
 King Christian II. of Sweden, Norway, and Den- 
 mark snatched a sword from the nearest bystander, 
 and with his own hand slew the girl he had just 
 pardoned. 
 
 At this moment Gustav Rosen entered the room. 
 The king's restless glance observed him imme- 
 diately, and, laughing gayly, he approached the 
 youth.
 
 140 KARINE. 
 
 " Here lies the head of your beauty, Rosen ! " 
 he cried. 
 
 The young man's brahi was so confused, that he 
 almost broke down at the sight of the fair head, 
 whose distant resemblance to Karine had not been 
 effaced by death. Christian's loud laughter brought 
 him to his senses. 
 
 "This time it is not she," the king continued. 
 " It seems the Rose has escaped us both. Curse 
 it ! " Suddenly the veins upon his forehead SM'elled ; 
 he struck his foot upon the floor, so that the win- 
 dows shook, and those standing near started ner- 
 vously. " Where is the scoundrel that allowed her 
 to escape? You are traitors, — one and all." 
 
 No one ventured to approach him, when, his 
 face distorted with rage, he picked up the sword 
 he had flung aside, and, like a madman, swung it 
 hissing around the heads of the frightened Danes. 
 Once only had they seen him thus ; it was after 
 the death of the Dove of Amsterdam, whom Torben 
 Oxe's kin were thought to have poisoned. It was 
 evident that he raved most violently, not when his 
 royal authority had been defied, but when a certain 
 spot, deep hidden in his heart, was touched. It
 
 KARINE. 141 
 
 was not Gustav Erikson, but Karine Stenbock, who 
 had increased his rage to frenzy. Gradually, as 
 none opposed him, he grew calmer ; then seating 
 himself, and leaning his hand upon the hilt of the 
 sword, whose point he thrust deep into the wooden 
 floor, he commanded, — 
 
 " Bring Brita Stenbock to me." 
 
 In a few moments she appeared. Her arms 
 were laden with heavy chains, such as the Danish 
 monarch carried with him in all his travels, but 
 she bore them as though their weight were nothing. 
 Not a feature of her f^ce betrayed fear or agitation. 
 At the sight of her, Gustav Rosen staggered : 
 horror-stricken, his eyes rested upon his aunt's 
 immovable countenance, and the consciousness of 
 his guilt brought a crimson flush to his temples. 
 
 For a moment there was the silence of death 
 in the great room, in the middle of which stood 
 Brita Stenbock, calm and stately. She broke the 
 silence, asking, — 
 
 '•Who called me?" 
 
 The king started, as if with fear ; his eyes were 
 fastened upon the ground. " I," he answered, in 
 an uncertain voice.
 
 142 KARINE. 
 
 Those who saw him might have fancied that 
 the dead eyes of his implacable enemy had 
 recovered their sight, so shrinkingly his glance 
 avoided them. Again there was a pause, then he 
 suddenly commanded, — 
 
 "Take away her chains." 
 
 The astonished soldiers obeyed. The king rose 
 and hesitatingly advanced a few steps, 
 
 " Brita Stenbock, you meant to murder me — " 
 
 " I meant to punish you ; it is you who murder," 
 she answered coldly. It seemed as if he, feared 
 by all, himself stood in awe. of a woman. Anx- 
 iously he peered into her face ; he possessed no 
 power over Brita Stenbock's blind eyes. 
 
 " You invited me to your house, and I came, 
 trusting in Swedish hospitality," he continued. 
 
 " You invited the Swedish lords to your house in 
 Stockholm, and they trusted in Danish hospitality." 
 
 Christian cast down his eyes. Was it weariness, 
 after the tumult that had raged in his breast? His 
 lips trembled ; with an effort he forced them to 
 obey his thoughts, and said, — 
 
 " You took me by the hand and bade me 
 welcome in your house, Brita Stenbock."
 
 KARINE. 143 
 
 " You took by the hand and welcomed each one 
 of those you meant to kill. I thanked you in the 
 name of my country, and told you that I hoped 
 your sojourn in our house would bring good for- 
 tune to Sweden. When you drank to the health 
 of my house, I answered by drinking to the wel- 
 fare of Sweden. Why were you too blind to 
 understand me? Why did you allow my blindness 
 to deceive your sight? " 
 
 Her voice was full of scorn. With bated breath 
 the bystanders beheld this fearless woman. Their 
 master's face wore a strange, anxious expression. 
 He lifted his hand to his brow, and tried to speak ; 
 but his tongue grew more and more reluctant. 
 With an effort he said, — 
 
 "It was might against might, cunning against 
 cunning. You hate me, Brita Stenbock, and you 
 were in the right. Among men there is warfare, 
 and I honor you as a man. You have fought 
 bravely ; I admire your courage. Speak truly : 
 the plan was yours ? None knew of it save your- 
 self? You, unaided, put it into execution? 
 Tell me this, and I will acknowledge the greatness 
 of your deed. You shall be free."
 
 144 KARINE. 
 
 In the wide hall, among a hundred eyes, fixed 
 upon her face, can it be Brita Stenbock's blind 
 eyes alone that see ; that perceive the tiny rift 
 between the meshes of his armor, through which 
 to thrust the dagger into her enemy's stony 
 heart? A strange, exultant smile hovered about 
 her lips. 
 
 " No, Christian of Denmark, you esteem me 
 too highly. To me belongs only counsel ; neither 
 the conception nor the execution was mine. A 
 girl outwitted you. But my daughter did not 
 know you, and did not suppose that you would 
 come to a wedding with an army. There was to 
 have been a battle at Torpa. But when my daugh- 
 ter saw the number of your followers — " 
 
 King Christian's hand passed slowly down from 
 his forehead, over his eyes. "When your daughter 
 saw the number of my followers," his lips repeated, 
 with a peculiar sound, like a sob. 
 
 " Then she came to me, and said, ' Christian 
 of Denmark is not only a tyrant, he is a fool. 
 Is Sweden's liberty, is his ruin worth it, that I 
 should for an evening play the part of the inn- 
 keeper's daughter of Bergen?'"
 
 KARINE. 145 
 
 Even Brita Stenbock paused in amazement at 
 the wild, agonizing cry that burst from the king's 
 breast. He sank back into the chair, covering his 
 face with both hands. Those around him scarcely 
 ventured to breathe. Heavy drops rolled from 
 under the royal hands ; it was so still they could 
 be heard billing upon the floor. Then his hands 
 were loosed ; he seized the sword he had thrust 
 into the floor, and drew it out. King Christian 
 laughed aloud. 
 
 " You tell your story well, Brita Stenbock ; but 
 our time does not permit us to converse with you 
 longer. And so we, the Danish tyrant, have un- 
 dermined Swedish hospitality, honor, and fidelity? 
 You are right again ; we were a fool — " 
 
 " You may scoff, Christian," the gray-haired 
 woman interrupted his words, "but I have dealt 
 you a deadly blow. My eyes are blind ; but while 
 others may think you are laughing, I see your heart ; 
 and I know it is bleeding under my hand." 
 
 With a cry of rage upon his quivering lips, the 
 king, raising his sword, sprang toward the defence- 
 less woman ; and had not Gustav Rosen intercepted 
 the fierce stroke, she would have shared the fate 
 
 lO
 
 146 A' A NINE. 
 
 of the young maid-servant ; her gray head had lain 
 beside the golden one. For a moment, Christian 
 stared at the youth's pale face ; then he allowed 
 the sword to fall from his hands, and said in icy 
 tones, — 
 
 " I thank you, Rosen. Through my fault you 
 were robbed of your bride. I will provide you 
 another. Are you ready, Brita Stenbock?" 
 
 His meaning was clear to them all, especially to 
 the woman to whom his question was addressed. 
 But her courage never wavered ; once more she 
 proudly lifted her head. 
 
 "You do not punish me, Christian; you will 
 only murder me. Death does not frighten me ; 
 and what will mine profit you ? You can kill me, 
 but the spirit of this house you can never destroy. 
 Through the night of my blindness, I see far into 
 the future. The day is at hand when the whole 
 of Sweden will be a Torpa. I see blood flowing, — 
 more than has flowed into the Malar ; but it rolls 
 toward the Sund, and giant torches light the way. 
 By their light I see you, Christian of Denmark, 
 powerless, deserted, despised, and hated. I see 
 your pallid brow, weighted with the curses of
 
 KARINR. 147 
 
 your people, with the scorn of mankind, striking 
 the walls of your dungeon, while the ghosts of 
 Stockholm's victims mock you through the prison- 
 bars, and frighten you back to life ; because you 
 dread to appear before the throne upon which 
 Another sits, and where your power is at an 
 end. Then the Trollhiitta will sing the song of 
 Sweden's freedom for all to hear, as I hear it 
 now." 
 
 Majestically she stretched forth her hand ; and 
 through the utter silence that followed her words 
 were heard the thunder-tones of the Trollhiitta, 
 bearing sea-ward the last masses of the winter's 
 ice, and proclaiming through the land the glad 
 tidings that spring had come. For a moment 
 King Christian himself listened, spellbound. But 
 it was the old, gloomy face, over whose unfathom- 
 able features flickered, like a will-o'-the-wisp, the 
 treacherous smile. 
 
 " Your eyes are still too keen, and see too far 
 into the future, Brita Stenbock," he sneered. " I 
 will kindle a light that will enable you to see what 
 is close at hand. I will build you a goodly monu- 
 ment. As for the Trollhatta, it is mine ; and
 
 148 KARINE. 
 
 henceforward its waters shall glide submissively 
 under my hand, like your people. The spirit of 
 this house shall not spread further, and Sweden 
 shall not become a Torpa. The giant's torch 
 which you saw is Torpa itself, and in its light you 
 will lie fainting and alone. No, not quite alone — " 
 King Christian turned abruptly. " As I said, 
 Gustav Rosen, I owe you thanks for reminding me 
 of what befits a king. You will be reasonable, and 
 understand that at this moment I cannot restore to 
 you your young bride. But it was to your wedding 
 I came hither ; and for a short space you must con- 
 tent yourself with an old sweetheart, especially as 
 she comes of the same noble race. Captain Wol- 
 marson ! " 
 
 Christian hastily whispered some orders to the 
 captain, then, turning once more to Rosen, he 
 said, — 
 
 " Your estates will be well managed, Rosen ; 
 thank you for them." 
 
 And, measuring with a lightning-like glance Brita 
 Stenbock's unmoved face, the king left the room. 
 Below, the horns were calling the men together ; 
 in a few minutes the court was filled with horse-
 
 KARINE. i^g 
 
 men, their master giving the signal for their de- 
 parture. 
 
 Five saddled horses still stood at the gate, for 
 Captain Wolmarson and the others who remained 
 to do the king's bidding. They are not soldiers, 
 but the assistants of the man in the close-fitting 
 doublet, who has thrown aside his scarlet cloak, 
 and roughly ties Gustav Rosen's hands behind his 
 back. The officers standing near could not re- 
 press a shudder when the men, with rude laughter, 
 loaded Brita Stenbock's limbs with fetters, and 
 chained both her and Rosen to the altar, which had 
 been prepared for so different a purpose. Now all 
 was completed ; and, walking away, the headsman 
 turned once more and laughed, — 
 
 " The pair is ready, — a merry bridegroom ; a 
 bonny bride. Bring the priest, that he may pro- 
 nounce a blessing ! " 
 
 One of his servants ran to the kitchen, and, 
 returning, distributed the wood he carried in his 
 arms, while his companions dispersed into the 
 adjoining apartments. Filled with horror, the 
 Danish captain rushed into the open air and 
 leaped upon his horse. Five minutes later the
 
 1 50 KARINE. 
 
 Others followed ; and, frequently turning to look 
 behind them, they galloped away. 
 
 And again Castle Torpa is silent as the grave, 
 as silent as in that midnight hour when Karine 
 Stenbock stood waiting for the Danish king. The 
 first rays of the morning sun flash through the leaf- 
 less elms upon the gray gables. Ghasdy still lie 
 the dead Dalecarles among their foes in the pas- 
 sages ; not a sound of life is heard, whether of joy 
 or of pain. 
 
 A cry of mourning were indeed a greeting from 
 heaven in the midst of this shuddering stillness, 
 through which now and then is heard a feeble 
 crackling, as if the walls were bending under in- 
 visible fingers. 
 
 A human voice speaks through the desola- 
 tion, — 
 
 "Mother, do you hear it?" It is Gustav 
 Rosen, who is vainly dragging at his chains ; but 
 his fettered hands are powerless. Brita Stenbock 
 knows what he means ; yet her answer is as chill 
 as if he were a boy standing before her to receive 
 his chastisement.
 
 KARINE. I 5 I 
 
 "I am not your mother, Gustav Rosen, and I 
 bless the Heaven that prevented it. Far better the 
 wedding-torch lighted by Christian of Denmark 
 than to have intrusted my daughter to your traitor 
 hands. My blood, and the blood of the brave 
 men who were slain this night for Sweden's free- 
 dom, be upon you ! " 
 
 The crackling grows stronger on all sides. In 
 the quiet morning air there is a rushing in the cor- 
 ridors, like the sound of an approaching storm. 
 It seems as if the dead out yonder were rising and 
 stumbling with heavy footsteps over the corpses of 
 their comrades. 
 
 " Mother ! " the youth cries in despair. " You 
 are Karine's mother. Speak a last word to me in 
 Karine's name. In a little while we go together 
 where there are neither Swedes nor Danes, only 
 forgiv^eness, and peace, and mercy. Have pity, 
 mother ! " 
 
 A shudder, the first in her life, perhaps, shakes 
 the strong woman. She endeavors to free her 
 arm, and vainly strains her sightless eyes toward the 
 pleading youth. Then a gentle smile softens her 
 firm lips, and she answers softly, —
 
 152 KARINE. 
 
 *' Your heart had no place in this hard world. 
 God will forgive you, as Karine does, as I do. 
 Sleep in peace, Gustav." 
 
 Over yonder, on a hill near Torpa, stood King 
 Christian II., surrounded by his faithful followers. 
 His knitted brows betrayed impatience, and his 
 piercing eyes were turned toward the castle, now 
 lighted by the sun's first rays. Soon the furrows 
 were smoothed. A rosy cloud seemed to hover 
 over the roof of the far-stretching building ; heavy 
 gray clouds, in which the red lightning was seen to 
 quiver, followed it. The west side of the castle 
 lay in the shadow, while toward the east the win- 
 dows were ruddy with the reflection of the sun- 
 light. But soon they were aglow in the west, in 
 the south, — on all sides. Fiery tongues waved 
 upward and downward ; a thousand fiery arms 
 clung to the walls. Suddenly a bright flame shot 
 from the roof; the gray gable tottered and fell 
 inward with a thunderous crash, followed by a 
 shower of sparks and burning timbers tossed in 
 the air. Like glowing meteors, they circled about, 
 scattering far and near, falling into the white
 
 KARINE. 153 
 
 foam of the Trollhatta, and at the feet of the 
 mutely gazmg Danes. 
 
 Not a vestige of Hfe was seen near the surg- 
 ing flames, rising higher and higher, except the 
 frightened birds that fluttered about the tops of the 
 ehii-trees. With the glance of a falcon. King 
 Christian's eyes hung upon the door, and upon 
 the garden surrounding Castle Torpa. The dead 
 will not escape, and the living have not broken 
 their chains. Only when the walls fell, the king 
 turned away, and, with compressed lips, smiled 
 ominously. 
 
 " That was your giant's torch, Brita Stenbock. 
 Good-night ! " 
 
 Fiercely he spurred his startled horse. "The 
 wedding is over. We have enjoyed ourselves 
 royally at Torpa. Forward ! " 
 
 Soon the last spectators had disappeared from , 
 the scene, and the burning house stood solitary in 
 the bright, smiling sunshine. It seemed as if the 
 sunlight were holding it in a last embrace, wuth 
 a last farewell to the love that grew within its walls, 
 living through many summers and many winters, 
 until the storm came that kindled the flames and 
 turned it to ashes overnight.
 
 154 KARINE. 
 
 Storms spend themselves, and flames are 
 quenched, but the sun is everlasting, Karine ; it 
 returns again with every springtime, with every 
 morning. 
 
 King Christian had spoken truly. Before even- 
 ing Torpa had disappeared from the earth. But 
 Brita Stenbock's words proved truer still. Neither 
 fire nor sword can kill the spirit either of hate or 
 of love, and in them Torpa still lived. 
 
 It was evening once more, and a dense, vapor- 
 ous smoke hung over the ruins. Again the rooks 
 were crossing the Gota-Elf, and taking their way 
 northward. The moon scattered pale light upon 
 the water, as the broad boat struck the shore at 
 the same spot where Karine had stood when she 
 called " Farewell " to Gustav Vasa. 
 
 Now it is " Farewell, Gustav Rosen ! " Gustav 
 Erikson says it, and Brita Stenbock. They 
 both clasp his hand; death has held the young 
 man's hand in his own, and has wiped away its 
 stain. 
 
 " Farewell ! " He is alone, listening to their re- 
 treating footsteps. As a last greeting from another 
 life, the sound is wafted back to him, fainter and
 
 KARINE. 155 
 
 fainter, until it is lost in the roaring of tlie 
 Trollhatta. 
 
 It is well for him who would forget, to sit by the 
 waters of the Trollhatta ; their thunder drowns the 
 voices of the past.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A FEW short weeks have passed, but the 
 winter's power over Sweden is broken. 
 Not from the south came the springtime, but 
 from the north, out of the rude valleys of Dale- 
 carha. The springtime is called Gustav Vasa. 
 There is none else, from the mountains to the 
 sea, who can help Sweden, The nobles are 
 crushed ; and it is well that their jealousy, 
 which for centuries has shaken and enslaved the 
 land, no longer thwarts the plans of its deliverer. 
 In the towns, among the burghers, clash the arms 
 of Christian's mercenaries, subduing them with iron 
 
 hands. 
 
 From Copenhagen to Stockholm the land is 
 
 laid waste ; the villages are burned ; the people 
 
 have fled, or perished. The gallows and the
 
 KARINE. 1 5 7 
 
 wheel mark the progress of the Northern monarch, 
 since his visit to Torpa. 
 
 There is none to save Sweden but the people, 
 — the stiff-necked peasants of the Kjolen. There- 
 fore the Dalecarles have assembled together, from 
 mountains and valleys, upon the great meadow, 
 which the spring has covered with primroses, and 
 have chosen Gustav Vasa " Lord and Captain over 
 Sweden." 
 
 And down from the mountains came Gustav 
 Vasa. With a few hundreds he crossed the Dal- 
 Elf, and thousands flocked to his banner, for the 
 springtime had come. But, besides spring flowers 
 and singing birds, he encountered an army of 
 horsemen, who came, led by the treacherous Arch- 
 bishop Trolle, to meet the Dalecarles near Brunn- 
 back's Ferry. 
 
 The Dal-Elf s waters were red when they carried 
 the first retribution for the massacre of Stockholm 
 into the Bothnian Sea ; and, with the news of the 
 battle, Gustav Vasa himself reached the South. 
 
 " I told you at Torpa that we should meet again. 
 King Christian ; you will not escape the sight of 
 me until the Sund flows between you and Sweden."
 
 158 KARINE. 
 
 With this message he sent a horseman to the 
 Danish king. But before the messenger had fas- 
 tened the scroll to the palace-gate, Gustav Vasa 
 had again beaten the Danes, near Westeras ; and 
 with so many thousands that they could be called 
 no longer a band of peasants, but rather a noble 
 and stately army, he besieged the town of Wes- 
 terns, defended by Slaghok, once a barber's ap- 
 prentice, now confessor to the king. The town 
 was taken by storm. 
 
 "And the Jutes, how they fled, how with voices so loud 
 They sang this most pitiful song : 
 The Devil may drink all the beer that is brewed 
 At the Dalecarle's anvil and tongs." 
 
 When the midsummer sun stood at its zenith, 
 and night and day touched each other's hand, 
 Upsala, the ancient seat of the Swedish kings, fell 
 into Gustav Vasa's hands. 
 
 Here he remained. The impetuous enthusiasm 
 of his adherents was an excellent thing to over- 
 come the Danish troops in open warfare ; but the 
 rude strength of the peasants was not equal to a 
 long and wearisome siege. They must needs be 
 accustomed to military discipline, trained in the
 
 KARINE. 159 
 
 use of arms. Their weapons were chiefly their 
 hunting and farming implements, — the axe, with 
 which they felled the trees in their native forest ; 
 the bow and the sling used in hunting the ptarmi- 
 gan ; the pike, with which they defended their 
 flocks against bears and wolves. But Gustav Vasa's 
 eye and hand were everywhere. Trusting in Lu- 
 beck's promise of assistance, he had, with wise fore- 
 thought, requested arms from the Hansa towns, 
 and himself taught the ignorant valley-men the 
 use of the musket. Leaders, chosen by him, 
 traversed the land in every direction, calling upon 
 the people to rise. Everywhere companies were 
 formed, which afterwards united their forces, and 
 successfully attacked the Danish garrisons in the 
 smaller towns. Soon the Lowlands were wholly 
 in the hands of the deliverer, and Christian's offi- 
 cers were forced to retire into the fortified places, 
 — chiefly into the cities on the coast, which, like 
 Stockholm, could be constantly supplied with sol- 
 diers and provisions. Brita Stenbock had spoken 
 truly : in a few short weeks the whole of Sweden 
 had become a Torpa ; and Christian, from the 
 windows of his palace at Copenhagen, gazed in
 
 l60 KARINE. 
 
 impotent wrath across the Sund. He had been 
 obliged to return to Denmark, because his own 
 rebeUious nobles, profiting by his absence, had en- 
 deavored to arouse the indignation of the people 
 against their tyrant. 
 
 Each band, great or small, that fought for 
 the deliverance of Sweden, readily acknowledged 
 Gustav Vasa's supremacy, and rendered him hom- 
 age as the "Lord and Captain over Sweden." 
 
 And so all went to Upsala, the ancient seat of 
 the Swedish kings, where in the olden time the 
 mighty Ynglings had ruled. The city no longer 
 stood upon the old site, but a league farther to the 
 east. Only a village, hidden among linden-trees, 
 marked the spot where the ruins of the former 
 Queen of the North lay sleeping beneath trailing 
 ivy and waving grass. Above the houses rose an 
 ancient church, with square granite tower ; a 
 Runic stone, built into the choir, spoke the strange 
 language of olden times, unintelligible to the pres- 
 ent generation. Beside the church were three 
 steep hillocks, the " Kings' Mounds," still, in the 
 minds of the people, sacred to Thor, Freya, and 
 Odin. Giant tumuli of Ynglings, they were presum-
 
 KARINE. l6l 
 
 ably the legendary witnesses of a time when the 
 gods were wont to descend from Valhalla, to found 
 kingdoms here below, and to wed the fair daugh- 
 ters of earth. Now the dense beech-trees that 
 crown their summits rustle in the north wind, and 
 scatter their leaves upon the rude bowlders that 
 mark the sleeping-chamber of the giant heroes. 
 
 Anyone sitting upon one of these stones, and 
 looking eastward through the trees, might discern 
 the huge gray Cathedral of Upsala, its Gothic spires 
 rising far above the sombre " skog," Sweden's 
 primeval forest, which with a wild medley of pines 
 and fir-trees, alders and beeches, covered the wide 
 plain. Beside the road, well-made for the time, 
 that led from Old Upsala to the new city, were 
 occasional clearings, where moss-covered bowlders, 
 a tall fern nodciing here and there from a cleft in 
 the stone, lay scattered over the naked ground. 
 Notwithstanding the high latitude, Sweden's mid- 
 summer sun lay warm upon the land ; and the 
 road might seem long to the wayfarer from the 
 village to the Cathedral Square at Upsala. 
 
 The mighty nave rose high above the low, one- 
 storied houses, like a giant among pygmies. Almost 
 
 II
 
 1 62 KARINE. 
 
 all the houses were built of wood and roofed with 
 the gray bark of the birch-tree, giving the town a 
 monotonous appearance. Already, half a century 
 before, Sten Sture the Elder had founded at Up- 
 sala the first Swedish university ; but for long 
 years its cloisters had been deserted. Science was 
 silenced by the clash of arms, amid which the 
 living generation had grown up ; and mournfully, 
 bereft of her old glory and her new, the Kings' 
 City clustered around the Cathedral, the sole rem- 
 nant of her glorious past. Grass grew upon the 
 pavements, no longer trodden by scholars' feet; 
 and Upsala lay silent and melancholy, like the 
 surrounding landscape, its burghers rarely meeting 
 in the streets, and hurrying past each other with 
 hasty, timid greetings. 
 
 Thus it had been a few weeks ago ; but one sum- 
 mer-month had sufficed to work a change. It had 
 taken no longer to cover field and forest with gay 
 verdure and transform, as if by magic, the wintry 
 aspect of the town. Crowds thronged the thor- 
 oughfares. The Dalecarles, whose fair hair fell 
 in heavy masses over their rugged foreheads, 
 seemed to tower above the roofs of the low build-
 
 KARINE. 163 
 
 ings ; the supple sons of Gotland and Ingerman- 
 land moved more gracefully ; clearly distinguishable 
 were the more intelligent features of the towns- 
 man, who possibly had seen something of the world 
 and its ways beyond the Baltic, and had acquired 
 more cosmopolitan manners. In richer clothing 
 he walked through the crowd, proud to be seen 
 by the side of the stately men whose frequent 
 questions, whose speech and manners betrayed the 
 foreigner. These were the gentlemen from Lii- 
 beck, envoys from the heads of the Hansa, who 
 had but recently landed at Norrtelge, bringing the 
 necessary supplies for the subduer of their old 
 enemy and rival, and desiring to make themselves 
 acquainted with the extent and prospects of the 
 Swedish rising as well as with the personal charac- 
 ter of its leader. With prudent, business-like re- 
 serve, they pursued their inquiries. But soon the 
 universal enthusiasm had caught them also ; and 
 the reports they sent back to the banks of the 
 Trave soon dispelled all mistrust in any matter 
 confided to the keeping of Gustav Erikson, They 
 were frequently met in his company, and still 
 more frequently were seen at nightfall to enter
 
 1 64 KARINE. 
 
 the modest house he occupied, only to leave it 
 at break of day. At other times they mingled 
 freely among the people, admiring with most 
 unbusiness-like eyes the handsome maidens from 
 Upland and Gefleborg, with their sea-blue eyes 
 and heavy yellow hair, who bravely made their 
 way through the multitude. In the daytime, the 
 fields surrounding the town were converted into 
 a camp glittering with arms of every description 
 and of infinite variety, in the handling of which 
 Gustav Vasa himself instructed his eager followers. 
 The horsemen exercised upon short-maned, thick- 
 set horses of incredible strength and endurance ; 
 and the reports of the new fire-arms, cautiously 
 examined by the older bystanders, were heard 
 from morning until night. The generous fore- 
 thought of the gentlemen from Liibeck, not con- 
 tent with supplying muskets, had sent ammunition 
 in such abundance that, with the troublesome 
 and tedious method of loading, it would have 
 sufficed for the needs of an army through years 
 of warfare. 
 
 The houses of Upsala were indeed rather inade- 
 quate for the accommodation of her numerous
 
 KARINE. 165 
 
 guests, peaceful and warlike, who came from north 
 and from south. But the citizens cheerfully yielded 
 what they had to the deliverers. A spirit of 
 exemplary order, of true Northern solidity and 
 sobriety, prevailed in the overcrowded town. But 
 in the evening, after the day's work was done, 
 songs were everywhere heard in the streets, 
 especially the new " Brunnback " ballad; while 
 an hour before midnight the sun still stood in 
 golden splendor in the heavens. 
 
 But all noise and singing in Upsala's streets were 
 hushed ; all heads uncovered ; women lifted their 
 children upon their arms ; young maidens forced 
 their way through the throng ; old men's eyes 
 sparkled with the fire of renewed youth, when 
 Gustav Vasa's tall figure passed by, simply dressed, 
 and scarcely higher in stature than the crowd of 
 his followers, but distinguished from among his 
 companions by an indescribable superiority. It 
 was the same face which upon that memorable 
 November evening had confronted Karine Sten- 
 bock ; but his brow had grown more thoughtful, 
 and was seamed, in advance of his years, with 
 slight furrows. On the right side it was defaced
 
 1 66 KARINE. 
 
 by a broad scar, reaching downward to the temple. 
 It did not look like a wound caused by a sharp 
 weapon, but rather seemed burned into the flesh, 
 and the hair near it was singed. Instead of de- 
 tracting from the manly beauty of his face, it rather 
 heightened the imposing energy of his counte- 
 nance, whose eyes mirrored forth a world of thought, 
 or at will baffled the scrutiny of the wisest. No 
 one ever fathomed their depths, neither the trusting 
 simplicity of the Dalecarles, nor the shrewd glances 
 of the diplomatic merchants from Germany. Those 
 who fancied themselves acquainted with Gustav 
 Erikson's secret thoughts were mistaken. 
 
 So were his companions, who on this afternoon 
 had waited for more than an hour by his side ; 
 while he, so rarely idle, sat immovable upon his 
 horse, gazing expectantly through the sultry sunshine 
 of this July day, along the road that leads to Gefle. 
 Something of moment must be expected from the 
 seaboard town, since he who scarcely rests even at 
 night, and leaves no moment of the day unoc- 
 cupied, can master his impatience, and take no 
 heed of the flight of time. His comrades exchange 
 whispered guesses as to the object of his waiting ;
 
 KARINE. 167 
 
 they are of the opinion that a personage of great 
 importance, perhaps a messenger from Russia, or 
 one from Liibeck, announcing the arrival of fresh 
 troops, is about to arrive. Of the latter, the gen- 
 tlemen of the Hansa had no knowledge ; but they 
 thought it not impossible that the young com- 
 mander, with his impenetrable eyes, had found 
 means, without their intervention, to open the gates 
 of the ancient city on the Trave, behind which 
 lay power and influence and wealth. Like their 
 leader, all gazed perseveringly down the sunny 
 road leading to Gefle. 
 
 Almost imperceptibly Gustav Vasa's expression 
 changed ; and a moment later, those around him 
 discerned in the distance a small object, slowly 
 moving over the yellow sand of the highway. 
 Gradually it grew larger, and soon they were able 
 to distinguish an open travelling-carriage, — a rare 
 occurrence in those days. It was a heavy, lumber- 
 ing coach, drawn by clumsy horses ; and in it sat 
 two women, — the one, with snowy hair clustering 
 about her temples, gazed with singular fixedness 
 into the dazzling sunshine ; the other, whose golden 
 hair lay like sunlight upon her brow, timidly turned
 
 1 68 KARINE. 
 
 aside her downcast eyes. Curiously, but without 
 special interest, some of the bystanders glanced at 
 the two. Now the carriage rolled past the waiting 
 horsemen, still engaged in whispered conversation, 
 when Gustav Vasa, lifting his hat, made a low 
 obeisance before the travellers. In an instant 
 every head was uncovered, and all eyes rested with 
 surprise upon the face of the young girl, whom 
 their leader had so courteously saluted. But 
 already the carriage had passed on. Deeply 
 blushing, the fair girl had silently returned his 
 greeting, and for a second her eyes had scanned 
 his face, when Gustav Vasa turned his horse, and 
 rode back to the city. Evidently, nothing further 
 was expected. Gustav Vasa had spent hours in in- 
 action, simply to greet a young girl and to receive 
 a greeting in return. Like lightning, the news 
 spread through Upsala ; and now it was the 
 women's business to discuss and conjecture. But 
 no one knew the beautiful stranger's name, or 
 destination. All that could be learned was that 
 the carriage had scarcely entered the town, but 
 had turned aside, taking the road to Old Upsala. 
 There it arrived, early in the afternoon. Close
 
 KARINE. 169 
 
 by the venerable church-tower stood a pleasant 
 house, larger and more convenient than the others 
 in the village. Here the travellers halted. Men- 
 servants and maids stood at the entrance, and re- 
 ceived them in respectful silence. Leaning on 
 her daughter's arm, Brita Stenbock entered the 
 house. 
 
 Everything was arranged with exquisite taste for 
 their comfort, — smaller, but more convenient, 
 and less suggestive of sober Northern simplicity, 
 than at Castle Torpa. The furniture, the costly 
 hangings, were of other than Swedish workman- 
 ship ; the wealth, the foreign connections of a great 
 commercial city had supplied them. Had Gustav 
 Vasa, in his petitions to the Hansa confederation, 
 included other matters beside fire-arms and soldiers 
 for the defence of Sweden ? Had he also planned 
 a garden for the Rose of the Trollhiitta, so rudely 
 torn from her native soil ? 
 
 This abode was certainly more fitting than the 
 wilderness in which she had sojourned since her 
 flight across the Gota-Elf, She had not seen 
 Gustav Vasa since she called her " farewell " across 
 the water. Horses were in readiness, and her
 
 I/O KARINE. 
 
 father lifted her into the saddle. They journeyed 
 at night, and in the daytime found shelter in 
 lonely farmhouses, hidden among the mountains, 
 whose inmates were always found to be aware of 
 their coming. Thus they reached the wild, pre- 
 cipitous mountains that divide Sweden from Nor- 
 way. Even here they were not safe ; the Danish 
 garrisons in the towns had orders to pursue them, 
 and the king had set a high price upon the head 
 of Karine Stenbock. By rude mountain- roads, still 
 covered with deep snow, they travelled northward.- 
 It was a weary, perilous journey ; but Karine seemed 
 heedless of fatigue, of hunger and cold. The 
 peasants gazed in astonishment at the frail, girlish 
 form, thus defying the rough country, the inclement 
 weather ; and many who had but deaf ears to other 
 warnings were won by Karine's glowing words. 
 They threw aside their peaceful tools, and hastened 
 to Dalecarlia, where, as was reported, the deliv- 
 erers of Sweden were assembling. 
 
 "I call you in Gustav Vasa's name," said Karine, 
 with burning eyes. Then they went further. A 
 mournful procession indeed, they rode through the 
 lonely, deserted country, a prey to their sad
 
 KARINE. 1 7 1 
 
 thoughts. They knew nothing of what had oc- 
 curred since their flight from Torpa; nothing of 
 the fate of the bhnd woman, who had fallen into 
 Christian's cruel hands. Not until they had 
 crossed the Clara- Elf, a messenger overtook them, 
 bringing tidings of Brita Stenbock's escape, and of 
 her journey northward over Lake Wener. Shud- 
 dering, Karine heard how Gustav Vasa and his four 
 companions waited in the underground passage 
 until the Danes should leave ; and how the leader, 
 tortured by anxiety, and undaunted by the peril 
 of death, had groped his way over corpses into the 
 house, and had lain down among them to listen. 
 But even he had no conception of what was about 
 to happen. He only heard that Brita Stenbock 
 and Gustav Rosen were put in chains, and left 
 behind. Then he heard the hurry and confusion 
 of the king's departure. At the same moment the 
 red glare of approaching torches fell upon his face ; 
 a rude foot, in an iron-bound shoe, trod upon his 
 breast ; a crackling and hissing ran along the 
 walls ; and a suffocating smoke filled the passage. 
 He sprang to his feet, heedless of the possible 
 presence of enemies, and opened the door leading
 
 1/2 
 
 KARINE. 
 
 to the hall. In the dense smoke he was scarcely 
 able to distinguish the two immovable figures 
 chained to the altar. A moment more, and he had 
 been too late to undo their fetters ; too late, with 
 Gustav Rosen's assistance, to carry Brita Stenbock 
 through the burning corridors. Burning timbers 
 fell crashing behind them ; a fire-brand struck his 
 forehead, but he reached the door that led to 
 safety, when, exhausted by his superhuman exer- 
 tions, he sank unconscious into the arms of the 
 anxious, waiting Dalecarles. 
 
 Impatiently — it seemed like an eternity — 
 they waited for the night, when, unseen and un- 
 harmed, they might reach the Gota-Elf, which 
 should carry them to Lake Wener. 
 
 Breathlessly, with tears of joy and sorrow, Sten- 
 bock and his daughter listened to the tale. Their 
 home lay in ashes ; never again would their eyes 
 rest upon Castle Torpa. But what was Torpa, 
 compared with Sweden's freedom? Sweden was 
 now their only home;; and Karine received it as 
 an intimation from on high that hereafter she 
 belonged to her country rather than to the narrow 
 spot where she had dreamed away her childhood.
 
 KARINE. 173 
 
 And what was the destruction of a house, in com- 
 parison with her mother's Ufe, which Gustav Vasa 
 had saved at the peril of his own ? 
 
 Deep crimson stained her cheeks at the thought. 
 Perhaps she remembered the promise the Troll- 
 hatta had witnessed : " This hand is free, Gustav 
 Erikson, and belongs to him who achieves two 
 things — " 
 
 " Upon your head be Sweden's future if it is 
 lost for a woman," he had replied as he sprang 
 into the boat. 
 
 One of the two things had been achieved. And 
 the second? Would he accomplish that also? 
 And afterwards, when he should come and say, 
 "It is done, Karine," what then? 
 
 Then he would have an indisputable right to 
 the guerdon her eyes had promised him, to the 
 hand he so ardently desired. And why not? 
 The eyes that had a heart to give away are dead. 
 Not a gleam broke from them when the messenger 
 related the fate of Gustav Rosen ; her lips never 
 opened to ask for tidings of him. The light in her 
 eyes is quenched, like the flames that consumed 
 Torpa ; and like it, her heart has become ashes.
 
 174 KARINE. 
 
 But beneath the ashes, Karine, a spark still 
 glows. The storm passing over it subdued the 
 hidden flame. But when the storm is laid, and 
 peace returns ; when the summer's breath gently 
 touches the ruin, — it may rekindle the slumbering 
 embers. 
 
 And farther Karine journeys, by her father's 
 side, and rekindles the sparks that sleep under 
 Sweden's ashes. 
 
 " I call you in the name of Gustav Vasa," she 
 says ; " he will deliver Sweden." 
 
 In the western part of Dalecarlia, Karine rejoined 
 her mother ; and here Stenbock left them to join 
 Gustav Erikson's army. In her feverish enthu- 
 siasm Karine would have accompanied him in dis- 
 guise, herself to take a part in the struggle for 
 what now constituted the chief aim of her life, 
 and to which even the duty owing to her blind 
 mother appeared secondary. In his trouble, her 
 father applied secretly to Gustav Vasa, and from 
 him Karine received the command to relinquish 
 her purpose. 
 
 As the general of Sweden's army, he wrote, he 
 must exact implicit obedience from all who would
 
 KARINE. 175 
 
 serve the cause of their country. He was en- 
 deavoring to do what Karine desired, and she must 
 obey his wishes in return. He bade her accom- 
 pany her mother to Old Upsala, where he had 
 prepared a house for their reception. A carriage 
 would await them at Gefle. The hour of their 
 departure from thence, and that of their arrival 
 at Upsala, were distinctly stated. Gustav Vasa's 
 mind comprehended and ordered all matters, the 
 smallest as well as the greatest. 
 
 And so they reached the house beside the 
 church in Old Upsala. In it there was nothing 
 to rearrange, nothing to alter. Each room in 
 the dwelling seemed to have been planned by a 
 woman's delicate taste and forethought, and yet 
 a man's hand had ordered it all. Whosoever 
 chose to remember that it was the hand that 
 held Sweden's future must needs acknowledge 
 that the arrangements of the house under the 
 linden-trees in Old Upsala expressed something 
 more than forethought and refined taste, — more 
 even than gratitude and friendship. 
 
 Karine felt it as toward evening she went out 
 into the open air. She had passed a restless
 
 1 76 KARINE. 
 
 afternoon, — her thoughts hngering upon the road 
 that had brought them hither. Perhaps the trials 
 of the past weeks had preyed upon her nerves. 
 She started at every opening of a door, at every 
 sound of a strange voice. Gradually, as the day 
 waned, her calmness returned ; and, passing through 
 the garden, she went out into the fields. She saw 
 with surprise the three mounds of the ancient 
 kings, and from an old villager she learned their 
 names and meaning. Then she walked slowly 
 through the tall flower- spangled grass of the 
 meadow, and ascended Odin's Hill. 
 
 The dead leaves of last year still lay strewn over 
 the granite bowlder upon whose edge she seated 
 herself. In the remote past it might have served 
 as a sacrificial stone ; the Runic tablets in the 
 church-wall, which Karine had observed in passing, 
 perhaps told its story. It was a spot where people 
 were tempted to forget the present, to linger in 
 the past with their thoughts, or to speed them far 
 into the future. What were individual joys and 
 sorrows, in the great flood of time that carried with 
 it years and centuries ? Whose were the voices that 
 were heard by this stone, before the giant trees,
 
 KARINE. 177 
 
 their branches swaying in the evening wind, had 
 struck their first feeble roots into the earth? When 
 years and centuries have gone by, who will remem- 
 ber the maiden now resting beneath them, and 
 looking out upon life as if she understood its 
 meaning? Not for pleasure was life given, but for 
 duty ; not to shape it according to our fancy, but 
 to serve others with it ; to yield it for worthy ends, 
 even at the cost of sore struggles and self-denial. 
 
 Karine softly whispered these words. It was 
 late in the evening, but the sun still stood in the 
 heavens. Almost horizontally the strange green, 
 melancholy rays of the northern sunset lay upon 
 the silent valley, whose inhabitants had already 
 gone to rest, until the ruddy dawn, a few hours 
 hence, should again call them to their labors. 
 Strangely still and sad it seemed up yonder, above 
 the sleeping world, upon which the daylight still 
 shone. In the distance, above the dark pine- 
 forest, gleamed the golden balls on the cathedral 
 spires of Upsala, throwing their reflection into 
 Karine's thoughtful eyes. 
 
 " Of what are you thinking, Rose of the TroU- 
 hatta? " suddenly said a voice behind her. 
 
 12
 
 178 KARINE. 
 
 Hastily rising, she stood face to face with Gustav 
 Erikson. She had scarcely seen him since the 
 evening she helped him to escape from Castle 
 Torpa. Fate had since then reversed their posi- 
 tions ; through that same underground passage he 
 had rescued her, bearing her away unconscious, 
 unresisting, in his arms. 
 
 He had done far more ; the flush rising to her 
 temples told that she was aware of it. And yet 
 she stood motionless, as she had done long ago, 
 by the Trollhatta, when his strong hand had for 
 the first time given her back to life. Her eyes 
 rested questioningly upon the scar on his fore- 
 head, but her lips were powerless to frame a 
 word. His brows knitted ; the joyous expression 
 his face had worn when he first spoke faded away, 
 and in a changed, harsh, uncertain voice he con- 
 tinued, — 
 
 "Have I not yet earned your thanks, Karine? 
 Have I not yet deserved your hand?" 
 
 She misunderstood him ; her lips quivered ; 
 almost inaudibly she stammered, — 
 
 " Sweden is not yet free — " 
 
 " You are right ; but you at least shall be free,"
 
 KARINE. 179 
 
 he exclaimed, his voice trembUng and full of un- 
 speakable bitterness, the muscles of his face work- 
 ing painfully. " You do well to remind me that 
 whoso gives his life for freedom does it not with 
 the hope of reward ; that whoso battles for the 
 liberty of a people must not restrain that of an 
 individual. I give you back your promise, Karine 
 Stenbock : whether Sweden becomes free or not, 
 words are light as air since Christian of Denmark 
 visited Castle Torpa. Farewell ! " 
 
 Before the girl could answer, he had reached 
 the foot of Odin's Hill, Avhere his horse stood 
 waiting. He sprang into the saddle and with 
 reckless speed rode back to Upsala. Karine gazed 
 after him, pale as death. The horse reared and 
 plunged ; the rider's wild excitement was seen in 
 the animal's frightened movements. 
 
 The distance was too great when Karine re- 
 covered herself, and called, with trembling lips, 
 " Gustav Vasa ! " He did not hear. A nameless 
 fear seized upon her ; the sleeping world and the 
 sun overhead reeled before her eyes. " Words 
 have grown light as air since Christian of Denmark 
 visited Castle Torpa," she murmured. Suddenly
 
 l80 KARINE. 
 
 her strength forsook her ; stretching out her hands, 
 she fell to the ground, close by the ancient Stone 
 of Sacrifice. 
 
 Karine went again the following day, but Gustav 
 Vasa did not return. Day after day she sat upon 
 the same spot, gazing with large, still eyes toward 
 Upsala. She listened to the rustling of the trees 
 overhead ; the days came and went like years. No 
 tidings reached her from the outside world ; neither 
 did she desire them. She was busy with the world 
 within ) and it would seem as though she took 
 counsel of the venerable trees, as they shed their 
 withered leaves upon the Runic stones. 
 
 Weeks passed. Everywhere, even to the shores 
 of the Baltic, the Swedish arms were victorious. 
 Stockholm alone resisted. It was besieged by an 
 army composed of Swedes and of auxiliaries from 
 Liibeck. The surrender was imminent, when 
 once more a cry of horror rang through Sweden. 
 Like fire the dreadful tidings spread, that Gustav 
 Erikson's mother and sisters, who, since the 
 beginning of the rising, had remained in Stock- 
 holm, had been murdered at the command of 
 Christian of Denmark.
 
 KAKINE. 1 8 1 
 
 It was toward evening when the news reached 
 Old Upsala, and the bearer told Karine that Gustav 
 Vasa, since he had learned the cruel fate of his 
 relatives, had not been seen by any one. The 
 greatest consternation prevailed in Upsala, for, 
 refusing food and drink, he had secluded himself. 
 Persons who had listened at his door had heard 
 — those who knew him refused to believe it — but 
 they swore they had heard him weep. 
 
 Slowly, without answering, Karine took her 
 accustomed way to Odin's Hill. As usual, she sat 
 upon the ancient stone and gazed into the evening 
 sun until the golden balls of Upsala's cathedral 
 glittered in its light. Then she fell upon her knees, 
 and pressed her forehead to the cold granite. 
 With a calm face she rose again, and descended 
 the hillside in the direction of the road leading to 
 Upsala. She followed this road, walking without 
 haste, until she reached the town, where she asked 
 to be shown to Gustav Vasa's house. A little girl 
 led the way. The officers, who were standing 
 irresolute at the door, made way for her ; and in 
 answer to her questions, directed her to the room 
 into which the commander had withdrawn.
 
 1 82 KARINE. 
 
 " Karine Stenbock wishes to speak with Gustav 
 Vasa." To their unspeakable surprise the door 
 was hastily opened ; but Karine closed it imme- 
 diately after she had entered, and, fixing her eyes 
 upon the pale, haggard face of the man before her, 
 she said, — 
 
 " A Swedish woman's word is not like that of 
 Christian of Denmark. I will be mother and sister 
 to you, Gustav Vasa."
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 AUTUMN had come. A year had passed 
 since Gustav Erikson first saw the Rose of 
 the Trollhatta. Much sorrow and woe had been 
 poured out over Sweden by the hand of Christian 
 of Denmark ; great joy and consolation had come 
 through Gustav Erikson, while the earth had com- 
 pleted its course around the sun ; and now autumn 
 was come again. 
 
 Warm, sunny, northern Autumn. Beneath the 
 blue sky, the golden balls upon the cathedral spires 
 of Upsala shone far into the distance ; they gleamed 
 above the wild green forest, past rocks and brush- 
 wood, past the golden-brown tops of the beeches 
 upon the royal mounds at Old Upsala, even to the 
 shining, tranquil sea. Heaven and earth seemed 
 steeped in blue and golden light ; and joy shone
 
 1 84 KARINE. 
 
 from the blue eyes of the men, women, and maidens 
 in Upsala. For half a league beyond the city, the 
 broad highway was lined with eager crowds ; from 
 Westermanland and Sodermannland they came ; 
 from the Svea-land, and, farther still, from the icy 
 lakes of Norrland and Norrbotten. 
 
 Expectantly all eyes gazed southward, for from 
 thence he was to come, — he whose name none 
 need mention who spoke of his deeds, — no longer 
 now the " Lord and Captain of Sweden," but its 
 king, Gustav Vasa. For a week past, the Diet had 
 been assembled at Strengnas, and two days ago it 
 had chosen Gustav Vasa King of Sweden. 
 
 And now he appeared. His eyes wore a gentler 
 look than his new subjects had ever seen there. 
 The warmth, the brightness, the sunny joyousness 
 of the autumn day lay upon him. In regal attire, 
 his ermine cloak sweeping the flanks of the horse 
 that bore him so proudly, he rode beside the milk- 
 white palfrey of Karine Stenbock, the royal bride of 
 Sweden. She, too, bowed graciously to right and 
 left. She wore no ermine cloak, but the jubilant 
 throng was enraptured with her beauty, — with 
 her golden hair, that streamed from under the
 
 KARINE. 185 
 
 circlet upon her brow, falling in streams of bright- 
 ness over her neck and shoulders. 
 
 Suddenly the smile vanished from Karine's lips, 
 and a thoughtful, strangely serious expression took 
 its place. She lifted her hand ; something was 
 fluttering toward her through the tranquil air, — a 
 white butterfly, with red spots upon his wings. 
 Fearlessly he rested upon her hand, as upon the 
 edge of a flower, and spread his wings. The wo- 
 men in the crowd saw it, and hailed the happy 
 omen : the royal butterfly had come down from 
 the mountains to greet Sweden's queen. 
 
 Why does Sweden's queen gaze upon the white 
 butterfly so absently, so lost in dreams, that she 
 fails to see the people's joy at the peaceful omen ? 
 Is her ear listening westward, through the still air? 
 Does she hear, faintly in the distance, the roaring 
 of the TroUhatta? No ; it is too far, — she hears 
 only the rustling in the beech-tops on Odin's Hill. 
 They, too, send their greeting to Karine's mute 
 eyes ; gently their branches sway against the sky. 
 
 Karine started ; the drums beat a flourish ; they 
 were entering Upsala. 
 
 The burgomaster of the city, surrounded by its
 
 1 86 KARINE. 
 
 senators and dignitaries, welcomed the King of 
 Sweden in a solemn oration, to which the latter 
 listened with exemplary patience, although he 
 breathed more freely when the speech reached its 
 end. The procession moved on, its destination 
 known to all. The streets through which it passed 
 were converted into a forest, the ground covered 
 with a carpet of rushes and pine-boughs. Now 
 the cathedral, in its gigantic proportions, rose 
 before them ; under the portal the Archbishop ot 
 Upsala, in full canonicals, and surrounded by his 
 clergy, awaited them. In spite of his trailing 
 ermine, the young king sprang lightly from his 
 horse, and lifted Karine from hers. Both bowed 
 before the archbishop, who lifted his hands in 
 blessing, and, preceding them, walked toward the 
 altar. The interior of the church was not orna- 
 mented. In marvellous beauty and purity of form, 
 the Gothic pillars, tall and slender, like clustering 
 sheaves, rose to a dizzy height, sustaining the noble 
 arch that hung above the central nave. Through 
 the tinted windows streamed a tender, mellowed 
 light, mingling strangely with the light of innu- 
 merable candles, that surrounded the altar and
 
 KARINE. 187 
 
 gleamed upon its gold- embroidered cloth. The 
 immediate retinue of the royal pair filled a large 
 portion of the vast space. Behind them thronged 
 the multitude, pouring into the church, or climbing 
 recklessly to the high windows, hoping to catch, at 
 least from the outside, a glimpse of what was going 
 on within. There " King Gosta " and Karine Sten- 
 bock were to be married by the Primate of Sweden. 
 
 Just as the solemn ceremony was about to 
 begin, a man was seen forcing his way through the 
 crowd. He whispered some words to the king, 
 who, with a short excuse, followed the messenger 
 and disappeared. The people gazed after him 
 in astonishment, as he left his beautiful bride 
 standing between her father and her blind mother; 
 and an excited hum of voices ran through the 
 church. But in a few moments the king reap- 
 peared. With beaming face, he approached the 
 archbishop, and said, — 
 
 " Permit me, most reverend lord, to speak 
 before you in this holy place. It will not be 
 profaned by my words, for, like yours, they come 
 from God." 
 
 He rapidly ascended the altar-steps, and spoke
 
 1 88 KARINE. 
 
 in a voice that rang loud and clear through the 
 vast cathedral arches, — 
 
 " Heaven sends two greetings to the people 
 of Sweden. Stockholm is ours ! This morning, at 
 sunrise, the Danish commander surrendered the 
 keys ! " 
 
 Like one great cry of joy, it burst from a 
 thousand lips. The last, longed-for end was 
 reached, — Sweden was free ! The stormy rejoic- 
 ings of the multitude were not to be restrained. 
 Each embraced and kissed his neighbor. From 
 a thousand voices the cry surged upward and 
 echoed back from the arched roof. 
 
 " Long live King Gustav ! Sweden is free ! " 
 
 " And so it will continue," Gustav Vasa's voice 
 rang out above the tumult, " for I have another 
 message to deliver to the people of Sweden. The 
 ambassador whom I sent to the Emperor Charles 
 V. has returned. The Emperor renounces the 
 cause of his brother-in-law, Christian of Denmark, 
 and offers to Sweden his friendship and recogni- 
 tion. The Danish people have risen against their 
 king, and put him under the ban." 
 
 Karine's eyes shone with a new light when the
 
 KAKINE. 189 
 
 king clasped her hand, and leading her to the 
 altar, whispered, — 
 
 "And thus the second condition is fulfilled, 
 Karine, before you become mine, — Sweden is 
 free." 
 
 She did not look into his face as she answered, 
 " Yes ; all the conditions are fulfilled, — Sweden 
 is free — " 
 
 " And you are its queen." 
 
 A quiver ran through the young girl's frame, — 
 a feeling at once of pride and of awe. Firmly she 
 stepped upon the velvet carpet. 
 
 " In the name of Almighty God, I greet you, 
 Gustav, King of Sweden, whom the Nobles and 
 Commons of the land have chosen as their king. 
 Generations of kings have come and gone. Upon 
 this spot, the priests of another faith placed the 
 crown upon the brow of the Ynglings, who deemed 
 themselves the Sons of Odin, the mighty; but 
 they fell, like the leaves in autumn, and their 
 memory has passed away. Here the proud Folk- 
 ungs received the crown from the hands of holy 
 men, and were anointed with holy oil from Rome ; 
 but, like the foam of the sea, their traces have
 
 IQO KARINE. 
 
 vanished. Many came after them, with great 
 names and proud hearts, from near and from far ; 
 they were anointed, and crowned, — but where 
 is their record? It is not the drop of oil from 
 human hands that makes small things great, and 
 exalts the lowly ; it is the Spirit of the living 
 God, which must uphold the mightiest among men, 
 lest their memory perish from among the right- 
 eous. — Thus I greet you, Gustav Vasa, in the 
 ancient city of kings ; and I joyfully lift up my 
 hands to the great Kmg over us all, and give Him 
 thanks." 
 
 Thus began the venerable archbishop of Upsala. 
 Solemnly and powerfully his words rolled over the 
 thousands of bowed heads. As the wind stirs the 
 sails of a ship, so they stirred the heart of each 
 Swedish hearer, who heard in them the promise 
 of a great and glorious future. Most deeply of 
 all, they moved Karine Stenbock, who looked up 
 with admiration to the majestic figure by her side : 
 to the man whom she heard praised as an instru- 
 ment of heaven ; whom his people worshipped ; 
 and who had chosen her, from among all others, to 
 help him to complete his work, — after the struggle
 
 KARINE. 191 
 
 for peace, after the victory by the sword, to estab- 
 Hsh the supremacy of right and Hberty. Yes ; 
 proud and happy at last, Karine looked upon the 
 ermine that fell from the shoulders of her royal 
 bridegroom. It seemed as though she heard from 
 above a rustling like that of the beech-tops on 
 Odin's Hill : " 'J'o help others, and to serve a 
 worthy end." 
 
 How far otherwise than she had imagined, 
 events had shaped themselves ! How far more 
 perfectly would a queen succeed in realizing those 
 high endeavors which the sunbeams above the 
 slumbering world had revealed to her soul ! And 
 this duty was her choice, — her proud and willing 
 choice. 
 
 And proudly, joyfully, Karine's eyes, during the 
 archbishop's sermon, looked on high and at the 
 listening crowd that thronged about the altar. 
 
 Suddenly the beautiful eyes quiver; their blue 
 light is fixed upon a pillar of red porphyry which, 
 to the right of the altar, bears the arch of the cen- 
 tral nave. The daylight does not reach it, nor the 
 light from the tapers : only a reflection from both 
 surrounds it with a magic mingling of light and
 
 192 KARINE. 
 
 darkness. It illumines the head of a spectator, 
 who leans against the pillar, his eyes fixed upon 
 the altar. Like the dim light that plays around 
 it, the pale face has a ghostly aspect. From a 
 distance, one cannot tell whether it is old or 
 young. The features, the tall, slender figure, seem 
 youthful ; but the hair, lying in heavy waves upon 
 his brow, does not betoken youth. It has been 
 golden, and a glimmer of the gold shines through 
 it still ; but it seems as if ashes were strewn upon 
 it ; and ashes cover the eyes, for they are more 
 lifeless than Brita Stenbock's blind eyes, which 
 attend so eagerly to the prelate's earnest words, as 
 though they saw through them far into the future. 
 
 Many eyes hung upon the young girl who was 
 now Sweden's queen, and followed her glance. 
 Many turned, seeking the favored object ; and 
 many whispered, — 
 
 " Who is the man over yonder with the strange 
 face? The queen is looking at him." 
 
 "Hush ! " answered a voice, silencing the whis- 
 perers. " It is the king's ambassador to the Ger- 
 man Emperor, who has just returned. He is no 
 doubt surprised to see what an angel's face Gustav
 
 KARINE. 
 
 193 
 
 has found during his absence. You can well see 
 that he never in his life beheld anything so lovely. 
 But listen to the archbishop, — the most important 
 part is still to come." 
 
 The voices were hushed ; and all eyes turned 
 toward the dignitary of the Cliurch, who held in 
 a jewelled dish the plain circlets of gold, the 
 symbol of fidelity to kings and peasants alike. 
 Only Karine Stenbock's eyes did not move ; and 
 the eyes of the man by the pillar gazed, immov- 
 able, expressionless. 
 
 "Karine," the mute, lustreless eyes seemed to 
 say, " by the TroUhiitta's brink stood the venerable 
 bard, and looked down into its waters. Life flowed 
 around him ; the sunshine rested upon his brow ; 
 the birds sang ; the flowers nodded, — and he shud- 
 dered before the weird figure rising from the whirl- 
 ing foam, and stretching forth its arms to clutch 
 him. He tried to flee, but the spell was upon 
 him, compelling him to gaze into the thundering 
 waters ; and involuntarily he was drawn nearer 
 and nearer, until, overpowered by the spirits of 
 the deep, he sprang down, and the dazzling foam 
 hid him forever." 
 
 13
 
 194 KARINE. 
 
 The archbishop took the cold, hfeless hand of 
 the royal bride of Sweden, and slipped the ring 
 upon her finger. Breathless stood the waiting 
 multitude. 
 
 " Karine," said the sad eyes over yonder, " were 
 those the lips that said, ' Do not grow weary, Gus- 
 tav ' ? Were those the lips that whispered, ' Do 
 not forsake Karine ' ? Was it Gustav Vasa to whom 
 they said, ' I love you so dearly, Gustav — so 
 dearly'?" 
 
 "The Almighty God bless you and keep you. 
 King and Queen of Sweden. May He rule your 
 hearts for your own happiness, and for the welfare 
 of your country ! May He lift up His countenance 
 upon you, and give you peace ! " 
 
 Like a plain citizen, Gustav Vasa bent down 
 and kissed his wife. As if awaking from a dream, 
 the Queen of Sweden started, and turned her eyes 
 away from the face by the pillar ; with an uncertain 
 glance, they wandered over the snowy ermine of 
 her royal husband. Her limbs tottered ; shuddering, 
 she stretched out her hands, and with the cry, 
 "You are the Trollhatta," fell fainting into Gustav 
 Erikson's arms. There was only one in the vast
 
 KARINE. 195 
 
 throng who understood, and but a few who heard 
 her words. The rest only saw from afar how the 
 young queen sank into her husband's arms, which 
 closed firmly around her. They did not see how 
 the king held and supported her lifeless body, 
 whispering loving words into her ear. 
 
 Karine slowly recovered, and, taking her hus- 
 band's arm, walked with a firm step out of the 
 church. The royal retinue followed, and after 
 them the jubilant people. In a few minutes the 
 lofty cathedral arches were deserted, save by the 
 one who alone had understood the words Karine 
 of Sweden had spoken. 
 
 He still stood upon the same spot. The tapers 
 were extinguished, and the daylight entered faintly 
 through the tinted windows. The mute, lustreless 
 eyes were still fixed upon the empty space before 
 the altar. The sexton came and gazed astonished 
 at the lonely visitor. 
 
 "Are you ill, sir?" he asked respectfully. 
 Then Gustav Rosen started, looked at him, and 
 silently left the church. 
 
 When the wedding procession had crossed the 
 bridge of the Fyris River, King Gustav paused for
 
 196 KARINE. 
 
 a moment, and pointed to a green hill, gently 
 sloping southward, that rose to the west of Upsala, 
 overlooking the city. 
 
 " We will build ourselves a castle over yonder, 
 Karine, and be happy," he said softly, bending 
 down to his youthful helpmate. 
 
 She looked up: "Yes; and we can see the 
 trees on Odin's Hill from there," she answered 
 earnestly. 
 
 The people crowded after the royal pair to the 
 house w'hich the city had prepared for their wed- 
 ding festivities. It was the stateliest building in 
 Upsala ; and the early twilight saw a sumptuous 
 feast spread in its spacious halls. At the head of the 
 table sat the first royal couple Sweden had known 
 for half a century. To the left of Gustav Vasa was 
 seen the serene face of the Primate of Sweden. 
 The king was earnestly conversing with him, in the 
 midst of all the surrounding mirth and happiness, 
 concerning the new spiritual light which had arisen 
 in Germany ; and with pleasure the gentlemen from 
 Lubeck heard from the king's lips an oft-recurring, 
 well-known name. Finally the latter raised his 
 glass and spoke in a clear, loud voice, —
 
 KARINE. 
 
 197 
 
 " Nobles and Commons of the Kingdom of 
 Sweden ! My first greeting is to the freedom of 
 our country. But you have learned that freedom 
 rests in the spirit of man, — not in his hands ; that 
 a nation may shake off the yoke of slavery even 
 though its hands are fettered, if its spirit be free. 
 The liberty which 1 mean, and which I desire 
 to give you, has naught to do with the taking of 
 Stockholm, nor with the fall of Christian of Den- 
 mark. It is not born of the earth ; and God has 
 chosen a greater than myself to proclaim it. In 
 accordance with the usage of our fathers, I drink 
 to the health of the Monk of Wittenberg. May 
 his work prosper ; may the fetters of Rome every- 
 where burst asunder ! My greeting is to Martin 
 Luther ! " 
 
 With one impulse, all who sat around the long 
 table sprang to their feet. Like a glowing spark, 
 his words had fallen into each heart ; but all eyes 
 turned anxiously to the tall and venerable figure 
 at the king's left hand. Then a deafening shout 
 of applause burst forth. With a firm hand the 
 Archbishop of Upsala raised his glass, touched with 
 it that of the king, and said, —
 
 198 KARINE. 
 
 " To the health of Martin Luther ! " 
 Karine's glass met her husband's with a clear 
 ring. Now, according to ancient Swedish custom, 
 the "skals" flew back and forth. There was at 
 once a strange likeness and a strange contrast 
 between this feast and the one which in the early 
 spring had taken place in the now crumbling walls 
 of Torpa. Many of the same faces were assem- 
 bled here, but how greatly changed ! Careless 
 good-humor spoke from Gustav Stenbock's strong 
 features. The blind face beside him had lost the 
 look of scorn with which it had met Christian of 
 Denmark ; and again Karine sat beside a king of 
 Sweden, not trembling, not feverishly flushing and 
 paling, but with steadfast, serious eyes, beautiful 
 and calm, — beautiful as the mild autumn that 
 smiled upon Sweden's new-won liberty, calm as 
 the beeches upon Odin's Hill that lifted their 
 branches into the blue sky. 
 
 And at the opposite end of the table there sat 
 again a silent guest, who touched neither food nor 
 drink. Far away from him, beyond the quivering 
 lights, sat the Queen of Sweden ; but beyond her, 
 infinitely distant, like a vision in a dream, the
 
 KARINE. 199 
 
 Karine Stenbock of old floated before his eyes. 
 He saw a rocky valley, through which thundered 
 the Trollhatta ; there stood Karine, her golden hair 
 gleaming in the sunlight, and said, " Do not weep, 
 Gustav ; when I am a woman, I will go with you 
 to Denmark." 
 
 The ringing of glasses, the loud joy around him, 
 drowned the words so softly spoken by the dream- 
 vision, which, so far away, and yet so bright and 
 sunny, smiled from behind the Queen of Sweden's 
 chair into his dim, sorrowful eyes. 
 
 Through tears it smiled, pleading : " Do not 
 weep, Gustav ; I will be your wife, and we will 
 go together to Denmark." 
 
 A tear fell from the eye of the silent guest, upon 
 his untouched plate. And again Gustav Rosen 
 was startled, as his neighbor to the right asked 
 kindly, "Are you ill, sir?" 
 
 Without answering, he rose, and was about to 
 leave the room, when he encountered the eye of 
 the king, who had also risen from his seat. 
 
 "The king speaks, — silence!" it ran through 
 the assemblage. Every voice was hushed, and 
 Gustav Vasa spoke : —
 
 20O KARINE. 
 
 " We have drunk the health of many brave men, 
 of whose vahant deeds in Sweden's behalf we were 
 the witnesses. But noble deeds have been done 
 in secret; battles have been fought, perhaps the 
 fiercest of all, which no human eye has seen. I 
 drink to those who first won the victory over 
 themselves before they could recognize the eternal 
 justice of our cause. I drink to the man who 
 accomplished the difficult task of weaning the 
 German Emperor from the cause of his relative, 
 and of gaining him for us ; to the man, without 
 whose courage the mother of your queen would 
 not be among us ; to whom we all owe thanks, 
 you as well as I, — to you, Gustav Rosen!" 
 
 The king drained his glass, and the rest followed 
 his example. Gustav Vasa only remembered the 
 night in which he had rescued from Torpa and from 
 a cruel death King Christian's victims, — the night 
 in which Rosen realized the magnitude of his own 
 guilt ; realized that, in serving the Danish tyrant, he 
 had served an unworthy cause, and, in expiation, 
 offered himself for any service in his country's 
 behalf. With wise forethought, Gustav Vasa sent 
 him as ambassador to the Emperor Charles V.
 
 KARINE. 20 1 
 
 Had he other, unspoken motives in sending the 
 youth on so distant a journey? Unconsciously, per- 
 haps ; but now they were long since forgotten. He 
 only remembered Karine's " Never," when upon 
 the waters of the Gota-Elf he had asked, " Will you 
 return to Gustav Rosen ? " — "Never!" she had 
 repHed ; " between us lies an abyss, as between this 
 side and that of the Trollhatta. My heart no longer 
 belongs to the man who could betray Sweden." 
 
 Gustav Rosen never had understood Karine's 
 eyes, that loved Sweden ; and what does Gustav 
 Vasa know of the eyes that loved Gustav Rosen ? 
 
 Had Gustav Erikson's ambassador thought to 
 expiate another crime? Had he hoped to return 
 and say, " I was stricken with blindness when I 
 betrayed Sweden ; now I have helped to save 
 your country and mine " ? 
 
 But the road is long from the Trollhatta to the 
 Alps. When Gustav Rosen came back to Upsala, 
 the cathedral bells were ringing, all the bells in 
 Sweden were ringing, for the marriage of its queen. 
 
 He was a proud, knightly king in whose hand 
 she had placed her own ; he was a strong, a wise, 
 and a noble man.
 
 202 KARINE. 
 
 Probably there was not a maiden in all the 
 Swedish land who did not to-day envy Karine's 
 fate ; and many a man would have prized less 
 highly Gustav Vasa's new crown than the white 
 pearl by his side, that seemed to have risen from 
 the snowy foam of the TroUhatta. She too had 
 risen at her husband's words. A glance, her first, 
 sought Rosen's eyes. For a moment the Queen 
 of Sweden vanished ; the distant dream-vision 
 approached, and stood lonely and strange in the 
 festive hall at Upsala. Then Karine looked away, 
 and it faded once more into the distance, dim, 
 vague, forever unattainable. 
 
 Deeper sank the darkness, and with midnight 
 silence came into the house. Silence lay upon 
 the vast Swedish kingdom ; only a northern light, 
 its gleaming rays darting through the midnight 
 sky, stood above the ancient royal city.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE morning rose in golden splendor upon 
 the liberated land. The young king gen- 
 erously permitted the Danish garrison of Stockholm 
 to return to their homes. Humanity and justice 
 began their reign in Sweden. A rare, summer-like 
 autumn smiled upon the newly won freedom. As 
 far as the eye could reach, the grain-fields were 
 green with the harvest of the coming year; and 
 for the second time white blossoms covered the 
 fruit-trees. Springtime and autumn met in a 
 brotherly embrace, and the winter's strength 
 seemed forever broken. With rejoicing the people 
 gathered their rich harvest, and their trusting grati- 
 tude revered their king and queen as the source 
 of the many blessings which, after long years of 
 slavery and strife, were showered in almost miracu-
 
 204 KARINE. 
 
 lous profusion upon the land. They associated 
 Karine most closely with their new prosperity ; 
 Karine, whose eyes never wearied of seeking out 
 the needy ; who, with the beauty and winsomeness 
 of youth, with the wisdom of riper years, realized 
 not the dignity only, but the earnest duties of 
 a kingly crown. Her ear was open to all ; and 
 when, upon her white horse, followed by a single 
 servant, she rode through the village streets, all 
 eyes kindled with hope and gladness, and with 
 shouts of joy the children ran into the houses 
 to carry the news of the " good queen's " coming. 
 The king observed with pleasure how she won the 
 hearts of the people. Sometimes he accompanied 
 her upon her errands of mercy ; more frequently, 
 the arduous labors which the necessary reorganiza- 
 tion of national affairs exacted, kept him at his 
 post ; and Karine rode alone through the sunny, 
 autumnal country, followed at a distance by her 
 squire. Lost in revery, she gazed at the distant 
 landscape ; but her thoughts remained unspoken, 
 even in the secrecy of her own heart. She often 
 took the road that led seawards, whence, from a 
 rise in the ground, she could see in the distance 
 
 1
 
 KARINE. 205 
 
 the glittering blue mirror. Here, her servant knew, 
 the hours became as minutes ; until at last he would 
 approach, and point to the sinking sun. Then she 
 would turn her horse and ride homeward, and the 
 villagers saw always the same sweetness and tran- 
 quillity upon their young queen's beautiful face. 
 
 One day she was returning by the usual road. 
 It was just a year since she had first met Gustav 
 Vasa by the brink of the Trollhatta ; longer than 
 usual she had looked into the endless distance, 
 where sky and water seemed to meet. When she 
 saw the square church-tower of Old Upsala 
 through the leafless trees, a sudden unrest seemed 
 to awake within her. She glanced upwards at the 
 tall trees that from the summit of the kings' mounds 
 overshadowed the village, beckoned to her ser- 
 vant to continue his road to Upsala, and then 
 turned aside. She did not enter the village ; but 
 riding through the meadows, she reached the foot of 
 Odin's Hill, where she dismounted, leaving her horse 
 to wait for her return. 
 
 ''You will wait for me," she said softly, laying 
 her hand upon its slender neck. " You always 
 carry me back into the king's house."
 
 206 KARINE. 
 
 Slowly she climbed the hill ; her trailing gar- 
 ments, probably, or the dead leaves, that rustled 
 about her feet, impeded her walk, for she often 
 paused as if with weariness. When she reached 
 the summit, the setting sun met her eyes with 
 dazzling light. Green and melancholy, the level 
 rays lay upon the silent valley and upon the brown 
 leaves, which had dropped from the trees, and now 
 completely covered the Runic stone. But Karine 
 knew every line and crevice as intimately as 
 though her own heart's blood had been shed there. 
 Mechanically she moved to the spot where her 
 strength had failed her, on the day when Gustav 
 Vasa, in his anguish, had left her ; where she had 
 lain upon her knees, and pressed her face against 
 the cold granite, before she set out upon her 
 errand to Upsala. Again her knees trembled ; a 
 wild grief distorted the calm features of the young 
 queen's face, and it seemed as if a cry of agony 
 must burst from her throbbing heart. 
 
 Something rustled among the dry leaves, and, 
 startled, she looked up. Her eyes met the golden 
 balls of the cathedral spires at Upsala, reflecting 
 the sunshine above the sombre pine-woods ; and
 
 KARINE. 207 
 
 the sunbeams wound their golden threads around a 
 tall figure leaning motionless against a tree. He 
 turned ; a low cry escaped him ; it was Gustav 
 Rosen. Across the leaf-strewn stone, the blue eyes 
 found each other, as they had so often done from 
 the earliest days of their happy childhood. They 
 found and held each other — speechless, immov- 
 able — for the space of a minute ; then, with a 
 convulsive sob, the young man turned and walked 
 down the hill toward the meadows. 
 
 " Gustav ! " Karine called. He heard her, paused, 
 and went on. 
 
 " Gustav, stay. Your queen commands — " It 
 was not said in a commanding tone ; unspeakable 
 sorrow spoke from her imperious words. They 
 did not command, — they entreated. Sad as death, 
 Gustav Rosen came toward her. 
 
 With a firm step Karine went to meet him. The 
 pain in her face had vanished ; her heart no 
 longer throbbed ; her eyes were as tranquil as the 
 peaceful landscape around her. 
 
 "We must take leave for a while, Gustav." 
 Her voice did not falter ; her hand held his in a 
 warm clasp. *' We often said farewell when we
 
 208 KARINE. 
 
 were children, when the sun went down. But it 
 ahvays rose again." 
 
 With her other hand she pointed to the fiery 
 ball, whose last rays fell between them ; from the 
 tree overhead the last sere leaf floated downward, 
 and rested upon her golden hair. With a sad 
 smile, she took it and held it out to him. 
 
 " You gave me many flowers in remembrance of 
 happy summer days," she said ; " they bloomed 
 beyond the Trollhatta; but now the fall has 
 come, and I have nothing to give you in remem- 
 brance but this withered leaf." 
 
 As he took it, it feU to pieces in his hand. 
 Then for the first time he opened his lips, speak- 
 ing in whispers, to conceal the trembling of his 
 voice, — 
 
 " Tell me one thing, Karine, and I will quietly 
 take leave of you. Tell me only this, — are you 
 happy? Do you love Gustav Vasa?" 
 
 She turned her eyes toward the golden balls upon 
 the cathedral spires. " The woman whose husband 
 he is, is blessed above many," she said softly. 
 
 "Do you love Gustav Vasa, Karine?" He re- 
 peated the question, his voice shaking with pain-
 
 KARINE. 209 
 
 fully suppressed emotion. A moment would decide 
 the fate of two human lives. Karine lifted her blue 
 eyes to those of her lover, and said firmly, — 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 The sun had set, and the chilly night- wind 
 sighed through the branches overhead. A wild, 
 agonized cry broke from Gustav Rosen's lips ; 
 half unconsciously, he stretched out his arms and 
 clasped the woman by his side. 
 
 But she quickly freed herself. " Sweden's queen 
 can safely enter every house and cottage in the 
 land, and encounter every forest solitude. Shall it 
 be your fault, Gustav, if she no longer can do 
 this?" she asked sternly. 
 
 Tears streamed down his face. His arms fell to 
 his side as if paralyzed. But once more her arms 
 were folded about his neck ; once more her eyes, 
 with all the vanished glory of the past contained 
 in one glance, looked into his. 
 
 "Farewell, Gustav," her lips said, and kissed 
 him. 
 
 Like a white star, the Queen of Sweden upon 
 her white horse vanished in the twilight, along 
 the edge of the dark pine forest, 
 
 14
 
 210 KARINE. 
 
 Calm as ever, she entered her husband's house, 
 and lovingly, with gentle hands, smoothed from 
 his brow the furrows of care. Many were the 
 cares that crowded upon the young king, driving 
 sleep from his eyes, and so, the old chronicle 
 relates, he lay sleepless one night, when Karine 
 opened her lips, and murmured some words. As 
 he bent over her, she spoke in her dreams, — 
 
 " Gustav Vasa, the king, I love most dearly; yet 
 Gustav Rosen, my first love, I '11 nevermore forget." 
 
 Nevermore, — the waves of the Malar have 
 heard it, and tell it further. Lake Hjelmar car- 
 ries it to the boundless waters of Lake Wener ; and 
 past the rocky portals, through which the green 
 river rushes, — then come the Falls of Trollhatta. 
 
 They approach, gently flowing, like the destiny 
 of a human soul, — peaceful, transparent, kissing 
 the nodding, overhanging grasses ; then a little 
 whirlpool, a quicker movement, imperceptible, 
 unheeded, and the stillness, the calmness, have 
 gone, never to return. More hastily they flow, 
 still more hastily they are driven, drawn, compelled, 
 — until suddenly they plunge headlong, thunder-
 
 KARINE. 2 1 1 
 
 ing, into the all-devouring abyss, from whence no 
 arm can raise the doomed ones. 
 
 These are the Falls of Trollhatta. They thun- 
 der through days and through centuries. The 
 child playing upon their brink becomes a man, 
 and his hair grows white with age ; and when, at 
 the end of his life, he totters forth, leaning upon 
 his staff, they are the same as they were at its 
 beginning, — wreathed in flowers, like the spring- 
 time ; white as winter's snow. 
 
 Thus they have thundered for thousands of 
 years before human ears were near to hear. Far 
 over the rocks they fling their silvery spray, upon 
 which, in bright and joyous colors, glistens the 
 sunlight. But beneath this veil of dazzling maj- 
 esty and beauty seethe and toss the troubled, 
 stormy waters. 
 
 It is well for him who would forget, to sit by the 
 waters of the Trollhatta ; their thunder will drown 
 the voices of the past. 
 
 THE END.
 
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