"So that was it!"

"Yes, just that. You understand of course that your father did not weep because he had been deserted and left alone, but because he thought you were in peril." It had been a little hard for Linnart to come out with the last few words; they wanted to stick in his throat. Perhaps he was thinking of old Bjorn Hindrickson and himself, for there was that in his own life which had taught him the true worth of a love that never fails you.

But Glory Goldie did not yet understand. She had thought of her father only with aversion and dread since her return and muttered something about his being a madman.

Linnart heard what she said, and it hurt him. "I'm not so sure that Jan was mad!" he retorted. "I told him that I hadn't seen any gaolers around Glory Goldie. 'My good Linnart,' he then said, 'didn't you notice how closely they guarded her when she drove by?

They were Pride and Hardness, l.u.s.t and Vice, all the enemies she has to battle against back there in her Empire.'"

Glory Goldie stopped a moment and turned toward Linnart. "Well?"

was all she said.

"I replied that these enemies I, too, had seen," returned Linnart Hindrickson curtly.

The girl gave a short laugh.

"But instantly I regretted having said that," pursued the man. "For then Jan cried out in despair: 'Oh, pray to G.o.d, my dear Linnart, that I may be able to save the little girl from all evil! It doesn't matter what becomes of me, just so she is helped.'"

Glory Goldie did not speak, but walked on hurriedly. Something had begun to pull and tear at her heart strings--something she was trying to force back. She knew that if that which lay hidden within should burst its bonds and come to the surface, she would break down completely.

"And those were Jan's last words," said Linnart. "It wasn't long after that before he proved that he meant what he said. Don't think for a moment that Jan jumped into the lake to get away from his own sorrow; it was only to rescue Glory Goldie from her enemies that he plunged in after the boat."

Glory Goldie tramped on, faster and faster. Her father's great love from first to last now stood revealed to her. But she could not bear the thought of it and wanted to put it behind her.

"We keep pretty well posted in this parish as to one another's doings," Linnart continued. "There was much ill feeling against you at first, after the Emperor was drowned. I for my part considered you unworthy to receive his farewell message. But we all feel differently now; we like your staying down at the pier to watch for him."

Then Glory Goldie stopped short. Her cheeks burned and her eyes flashed with indignation. "I stay down there only because I'm afraid of him," she said.

"You have never wanted to appear better than you are. We know that.

But we understand perhaps better than you yourself do what lies back of this waiting. We have also had parents and we haven't always treated them right, either."

Glory Goldie was so furious that she wanted to say something dreadful to make Linnart hush, but somehow she couldn't. All she could do was to run away from him.

Linnart Hindrickson made no attempt to follow her further. He had said what he wanted to say and he was not displeased with that morning's work.

THE Pa.s.sING OF KATRINA

Katrina lay on the bed in the little hut at Ruffluck Croft, the pallor of death on her face, her eyes closed. It looked as if the end had already come. But the instant Glory Goldie reached her bedside and stood patting her hand, she opened her eyes and began to speak.

"Jan wants me with him," she said, with great effort. "He doesn't hold it against me that I deserted him."

Glory Goldie started. Now she knew why her mother was dying; she who had been faithful a lifetime was grieving herself to death for having failed Jan at the last.

"Why should you have to fret your heart out over that, when I was the one who forced you to leave him?" said Glory Goldie.

"Just the same the memory of it has been so painful," replied Katrina. "But now all is well again between Jan and me." Then she closed her eyes and lay very still, and into her thin, wan face came a faint light of happiness. Soon she began to speak again, for there were things which had to be said; she could not find peace until they were said.

"Don't be so angry with Jan for running after you! He meant only well by you. Things have never been right with you since you and he first parted, and he knew it, too, nor with him either. You both went wrong, each in your own way."

Glory Goldie had felt that her mother would say something of this sort, and had steeled herself beforehand. But her mother's words moved her more than she realized, and she tried to say something comforting. "I shall think of father as he was in the old days. You remember what good friends we always were at that time."

Katrina seemed to be satisfied with the response, for she settled back to rest once more. Apparently she had not intended to say anything further. Then, all at once, she looked up at her daughter and gave her a smile that bespoke rare tenderness and affection.

"I'm so glad, Glory Goldie, that you have grown beautiful again,"

she said.

For that smile and those words all Glory Goldie's self-control gave way; she fell upon her knees beside the low bedstead, and wept. It was the first time since her homecoming that she had shed real tears.

"Mother, I don't know how you can feel toward me as you do!" cried the girl. "It's all my fault that you are dying, and I'm to blame for father's death, too."

Katrina, smiling all the while, moved her hands in a little caress.

"You are so good, mother," said Glory Goldie through her sobs. "You are so good to me!"

Katrina gripped hard her daughter's hand and raised herself in bed, to give her final testimony.

"All, that is good in me I have learned from Jan," she declared.

After which she sank back on her pillow and said nothing more that was clear or sensible. The death struggle had begun, and the next morning she pa.s.sed away.

But all through the final agony Glory Goldie lay weeping on the floor beside her mother's bed; she wept away her anguish; her fever-dreams; her burden of guilt. There was no end to her tears.

THE BURIAL OF THE EMPEROR

It was on the Sunday before Christmas they were to bury Katrina of Ruffluck. Usually on that particular Sabbath the church attendance is very poor, as most people like to put off their church-going until the great Holy Day services.

When the few mourners from the Ashdales drove into the pine grove between the church and the town hall, they were astonished. For such crowds of people as were a.s.sembled there that Sunday were rarely seen even when the Dean of Bro came to Svartsjo once a year, to preach, or at a church election.

It went without saying that it was not for the purpose of following old Katrina to her grave that every one to a man turned out.

Something else must have brought them there. Possibly some great personage was expected at the church, or maybe some clergyman other than the regular pastor was going to preach, thought the Ashdales folk, who lived in such an out-of-the-way corner that much could happen in the parish without their ever hearing of it.

The mourners drove up to the cleared s.p.a.ce behind the town hall, where they stepped down from the wagons. Here, as in the grove, they found throngs of people, but otherwise they saw nothing out of the ordinary. Their astonishment increased, but they felt loath to question any one as to what was going on; for persons who drive in a funeral procession are expected to keep to themselves and not to enter into conversation with those who have no part in the mourning.

The coffin was removed from the hea.r.s.e and placed upon two black trestles which had been set up just outside the town hall, where the body and those who had come with it were to remain until the bells began to toll and the pastor and the s.e.xton were ready to go with them to the churchyard.

It was a stormy day. Rain came down in lashing showers and beat against the coffin. One thing was certain: it could never be said that fine weather had brought all these people out.

But that day n.o.body seemed to mind the rain and wind. People stood quietly and patiently under the open sky without seeking the shelter of either the church or the town hall.

The six pall-bearers and others who had gathered around Katrina noticed that there were two trestles there besides those on which her coffin rested. Then there was to be another burial that day.

This they had not known of before. Yet no funeral procession could be seen approaching. It was already so late that it should have been at the church by that time.

When it was about ten minutes of ten o'clock and time to be moving toward the churchyard, the Ashdales folk noticed that every one withdrew in the direction of the Dar Nol home, which was only two minutes' walk from the church. They saw then what they had not observed before, that the path leading from the town hall to the house of Dar Nol was strewn with spruce twigs and that a spruce tree had been placed at either side of the gate. Then it was from there a body was to be taken. They wondered why nothing had been said about a death in a family of such prominence. Besides, there were no sheets put up at the windows, as there should be in a house of mourning.

Then, in a moment, the front doors opened and a funeral party emerged. First came August Dar Nol, carrying a creped mace. Behind him walked the six pall-bearers with the casket. And now all the people who had been standing outside the church fell into line behind this funeral party. Then it was in order to do honour to _this_ person they had come.

The coffin was carried down to the town hall and placed beside the one already there. August Dar Nol arranged the trestles so that the two coffins would rest side by side. The second coffin was not so new and shiny as Katrina's. It looked as if it had been washed by many rains, and had seen rough handling, for it was both scratched and broken at the edges.

All the folk from the Ashdales suddenly caught their breath. For then they knew it was not a Dar Nol that lay in this coffin! And they also knew that it was not for the sake of some stranger of exalted rank that so many people had come out to church. Instantly every one looked at Glory Goldie, to see whether she understood. It was plain she did.