"That boy must have been a Dvaerg," said Hardy.

"Quite as probable as the story," said the Pastor. "There is, however, another impossible story of a Herr Manderup Holck of Jutland. He was taken prisoner by the Turks, and his wife contrived his escape by sending him a dress of feathers, so that he could fly out of his Turkish prison and home to Jutland. She, with very great prudence, collected all the bed-clothes in the parish, that he should fall soft when he alighted in Jutland."

"The story is so improbable that it must be very old indeed," said Hardy.

"I think the tradition about the Rosenkrands' arms is older," said Pastor Lindal. "The date attached to it is given as A.D. 663. The son of the then King of Denmark went to England to help an English king, whose name is given as Ekuin, in his wars. He secretly married the daughter of the crown prince, and by her had a son. She placed the child in a box of gold, and placed a consecrated candle and salt in the box, because the child was not baptized. One day, her father, Prince Reduval, rode by and saw the child, and as it was in a gold box he concluded that it came from a n.o.ble source. He brought it up under the name of Karl. King Ekuin died, and Prince Reduval succeeded, and he was the first Christian king in England. He desired to marry Karl to his daughter, who was his own mother; but when the marriage should take place, she confessed that the bridegroom was her own son. The king therefore wanted to burn her at the stake, but Karl arranged matters so that his father should be married to his mother, who for nineteen years had been separated from her. Karl had painted on his arms a white cross, to show he was a Christian, then white and blue, to show he was both an English and a Danish prince. In one quartering he had a lion painted white with a crown, to signify Denmark, and in another quartering a lion, to signify England, and then a design like a chessboard, to betoken the long separation of his father and mother."

"I think the story rather clashes with history," said Hardy; "but Rosenkrands means a wreath of roses."

"Yes, it does," said the Pastor. "One of them went to Rome, and the pope gave him a wreath of roses; hence the name."

"You will miss Herr Hardy, little father," said Helga. "In two days he leaves us. Cannot he stay longer?"

"No, I cannot," said Hardy. "My mother wishes me to return. She is anxious to see me, and I am anxious to tell her my experiences in Denmark; but whatever my own wishes are, I must obey hers."

"What sort of person is your mother?" asked Helga.

"The best and kindest," replied Hardy, as he took a photograph out of his pocket-book and handed her, which Helga looked at with evident interest.

"I feel what you say of her is true," said Helga. "Little father, it is a n.o.ble face."

"It is like you, Hardy," said the Pastor. "She must have been handsome."

"Yes, but she is," said Hardy. "Here is a photograph of her picture at twenty-two;" and he handed the Pastor another photograph.

Helga looked over her father's shoulder. "It is lovely!" she said, with warmth. "It is more like you, Herr Hardy, than the other."

"As you like the photographs, Frken," said Hardy, "keep them; it is seldom a compliment is so well uttered."

CHAPTER XVII.

"_Viator._--That will not be above a day longer; but if I live till May come twelvemonth, you are sure of me again, either with my Master Walton or without him."

--_The Complete Angler._

The next morning, John Hardy was up early, studying the excellent map of Jutland by Oberst Mansa. It gives the roads and by-ways with much care and correctness. The idea had occurred to him to drive the hundred and odd English miles from the parsonage to Esbjerg. The horses must be sent there to meet the steamer; the weather was settled, and as it was early in August, the early mornings and evenings were pleasant He accordingly sketched out the route, with the distances from one little Jutland town to another, and it was clear a good deal could be seen and the drive would be enjoyable.

Hardy came down to the little reception-room, where breakfast was usually served, and opened out Mansa's map on the table. Frken Helga was there, and her two brothers, Karl and Axel.

"I want to speak to your sister, boys," said Hardy; "you will hear all about it by-and-by, if you will go out for a while."

The boys left. Helga looked a little startled. Hardy said, "I have an extraordinary proposition to make; but you must not look so frightened." Helga had turned pale, her knitting dropped. "I only want your attention to this map of Jutland," added Hardy. He saw her face was now full of colour; but what about the map of Jutland? Hardy, an inconsistent man for the moment, was thinking of who else in the world but Kapellan Holm, and his being at Vandstrup Praestegaard all the winter, and that was not the map of Jutland. Suddenly it flashed across his mind that Pastor Lindal had told him about Kapellan Holm, and that Karl had repeated what Mathilde Jensen had said about his buying Rosandal. As he sat thinking, he looked all the time at Helga.

At length he said, "I am going home to my mother, Frken, but I hope to be here in May; earlier I cannot come, because it would be cold for my mother to travel."

"We shall be glad to see you, Herr Hardy; and I long to see your mother," said Helga.

Then Hardy knew that Kapellan Holm was nowhere, and his face grew bright, and he was ready for the map of Jutland.

Hardy explained his idea of driving to Esbjerg, and the extraordinary proposition was that he proposed to take not only Karl, but Helga Lindal herself and Axel.

"I should so like it," said Helga, "but----"

"I know," said Hardy, "that there are likely to be several 'buts.' The serious one is that the Pastor would not like to leave his parish for five days. Can this be arranged? Can he get any one to come here?"

"He will write the Provost" (the dean), replied Helga. "But he has already arranged to go to Esbjerg to see Karl off to England, and as we thought you might go to England earlier, a Hjaelpe-praest is ready to come here at any time; a day more or less will make no difference."

"The next 'but' is, whether the Herr Pastor would like it," said Hardy.

"That I am sure he will; but he must consider the expense," replied Helga, "and there would be the extra railway expense of my returning here."

"Then we leave at midday for Silkeborg," said Hardy. "Will you, Frken, tell your father about it? he is in his study; and now we can tell the boys;" and he called them, sent Axel for Garth, and told Karl to be ready at midday.

The Pastor immediately bustled in. "What a scheme you have hatched!"

he said.

"Yes; but you cannot have had time to have heard it," said Hardy, "much more to condemn it."

"Helga came into my study and said, 'Little father, Herr Hardy wants to drive us all by stages to see Karl off; can we go?' Now, is that the scheme?"

"Certainly," replied Hardy. "We want you to send our heavy luggage to the station for Esbjerg, and a telegram to Silkeborg to order dinner at five and beds, and leave here at midday. The next day we can get to Horsens, and then to Veile, or farther. I have taken out the different places and distances by Mansa's map, which you can check. Here is also the English guide-book for Jutland. We can have a row on the lake at Silkeborg this evening, and as I have been your guest so long, I invite you to be mine to Esbjerg. I must leave now, or we should miss the steamer."

Hardy's quiet self-possession overcame the scruples the Pastor was about to make. He had been bound to his parish for years, and not even his youngest son would enjoy the drive to Esbjerg more.

"Honestly said," the Pastor spoke, addressing Hardy, and using a familiar Danish phrase, "I should enjoy it more than I can say."

Helga liked Hardy's way of treating the money difficulty. It was done with such tact that it seemed as if Hardy was receiving a favour.

Axel came in with Robert Garth.

"Bob," said Hardy, in English, "we shall drive to Esbjerg by stages; clear everything, and get ready to start at twelve."

"Thank you, sir," said Garth, and was gone.

"What did you say." said Helga, whose knowledge of English was slight.

Hardy explained.

The man's ready obedience struck her, and lingered in her mind long after. She was not accustomed to the prompt execution of such an order by a servant, and attributed it to Hardy's personal character and influence.

After breakfast, during which much conversation arose on the proposed drive, Hardy came down with his fly-rods, books, and reels, and the precious little spring balance.

"There," he said, "Frken Helga, is all the fly-fishing gear; the flies in the small book are best for the Gudenaa. I hope you will break all the rods and smash all the tackle, to give me the pleasure of bringing you fresh ones from England."

She thanked him in the Danish manner that Hardy liked so much in her.