A little later on he was met by an artist who had been in Paris. "There goes a model!" said the artist. Jubal heard it, and at once believed that he was a model, for he believed everything that was said of him, because he did not know who or what he was.

Presently he remembered his wife, and he resolved to go and see her. He did go, but she had married again, and she and her second husband, who was a baron, had gone abroad.

At last he grew tired of his quest, and, like all tired men, he felt a great yearning for his mother. He knew that she was a widow and lived in a cottage in the mountains, so one day he went to see her.

"Don't you know me?" he asked.

"What is your name?" asked the mother.

"My name is your son's name. Don't you know it?"

"My son's name was Peal, but yours is Jubal, and I don't know Jubal."

"You disown me?"

"As you disowned yourself and your mother."

"Why did you rob me of my will when I was a little child?"

"You gave your will to a woman."

"I had to, because it was the only way of winning her. But why did you tell me I had no will?"

"Well, your father told you that, my boy, and he knew no better; you must forgive him, for he is dead now. Children, you see, are not supposed to have a will of their own, but grown-up people are."

"How well you explain it all, mother! Children are not supposed to have a will, but grown-up people are."

"Now, listen to me, Gustav," said his mother, "Gustav Peal...."

These were his two real names, and when he heard them from her lips, he became himself again. All the parts he had played--kings and demons, the maestro and the model--cut and ran, and he was but the son of his mother.

He put his head on her knees and said, "Now, let me die here, for at last I am at home."

THE GOLDEN HELMETS IN THE ALLEBERG

Anders was the son of poor people, and in his youth he had wandered through many kingdoms, with a bale of cloth and a yard-measure on his back. But as he grew older he came to the conclusion that it would be better to wear the king's uniform and carry a rifle on his shoulder, and therefore he went and enlisted in the Vastgotadal regiment. And one day it happened that he was sent to Stockholm on sentry duty.

Friend Cask, as he was now called, was on leave one day, and he made up his mind to spend it at the "Fort." But when he came to the gate he found that he had not a sixpence, and consequently he had to remain outside.

For a long time he stood staring at the railings, and then he thought, "I'll just walk round; perhaps I'll come across a stile; if the worst comes to the worst, I'll climb over."

The sun was setting; he walked along the sh.o.r.e, at the foot of the mountain, and the railings were high above him; he could hear the sound of music and singing. Cask went round and round, but found no stile, and at last the railings disappeared in a forest of nut trees. When he was tired he sat down on a hillock and began to crack nuts.

Suddenly a squirrel appeared before him and put up its tail.

"Leave my nuts alone!" it said.

"I will, if you'll take me to a stile," said Cask.

"Part of the way, then," said the squirrel. It hopped along and the soldier followed, until all at once it had vanished.

Then a hedgehog came rustling along.

"Come with me and I'll show you the stile," it said.

"Go with you? not if I know it."

But in spite of his remark the hedgehog followed him.

Next an adder joined them. It was very genteel; it lisped and could twist itself into a knot.

"Follow me," it said, "_I_ will show you the stile."

"I follow," said Cask.

"But you mutht be genteel; you muthtn't t stread as me. I like nithe people."

"Well, a soldier isn't exactly genteel," said Cask, "but I'm not so terribly uncouth."

"Tread on it," said the hedgehog, "else it will bite you, ever so genteely."

The adder reared its neck and rustled away.

"Stop!" shouted the hedgehog, attacking the snake. "I am not as genteel as you are, but I show my bristles openly, I do!"

And then it killed the snake and disappeared.

Now the soldier was alone in the wood and very sorry he felt that he had rejected the society of the p.r.i.c.kly hedgehog.

It had grown dark, but the crescent of the moon shone between the birch leaves, and it was quite still.

The soldier fancied that he could see a big yellow hand moving backwards and forwards. He went close up to it, and then he saw that it was a yellow leaf, which seemed to gesticulate with its fingers, although n.o.body could possibly understand what it wanted to say.

As he stood there, watching it, he heard an asp trembling:

"Huh! I'm so cold," said the asp, "for my feet are wet, and I _am_ so frightened."

"What are you frightened of?" asked the soldier.

"Well, of the dwarf who is sitting in the mountain."

Now the soldier realised what the maple leaf meant, and there was no doubt about it, he saw a dwarf sitting in the mountain, cooking porridge.

"Who are you?" asked the dwarf.