UNDER THE WILLOW-TREE [4]
"I am so glad you are come," she said. I was thinking of sending
my father for you, but I had a presentiment that you would be here
this evening. The fact is, I wanted to tell you that I am going to
France. I shall start on Friday. It is necessary for me to go there,
if I wish to become a first-rate performer."
Poor Knud! it seemed to him as if the whole room was whirling
round with him. His courage failed, and he felt as if his heart
would burst. He kept down the tears, but it was easy to see how
sorrowful he was.
"You honest, faithful soul," she exclaimed; and the words loosened
Knud's tongue, and he told her how truly he had loved her, and that
she must be his wife; and as he said this, he saw Joanna change color,
and turn pale. She let his hand fall, and said, earnestly and
mournfully, "Knud, do not make yourself and me unhappy. I will
always be a good sister to you, one in whom you can trust; but I can
never be anything more." And she drew her white hand over his
burning forehead, and said, "God gives strength to bear a great
deal, if we only strive ourselves to endure."
At this moment her stepmother came into the room, and Joanna
said quickly, "Knud is so unhappy, because I am going away;" and it
appeared as if they had only been talking of her journey. "Come, be
a man" she added, placing her hand on his shoulder; "you are still a
child, and you must be good and reasonable, as you were when we were
both children, and played together under the willow-tree."
Knud listened, but he felt as if the world had slid out of its
course. His thoughts were like a loose thread fluttering to and fro in
the wind. He stayed, although he could not tell whether she had
asked him to do so. But she was kind and gentle to him; she poured out
his tea, and sang to him; but the song had not the old tone in it,
although it was wonderfully beautiful, and made his heart feel ready
to burst. And then he rose to go. He did not offer his hand, but she
seized it, and said-
"Will you not shake hands with your sister at parting, my old
playfellow?" and she smiled through the tears that were rolling down
her cheeks. Again she repeated the word "brother," which was a great
consolation certainly; and thus they parted.
She sailed to France, and Knud wandered about the muddy streets of
Copenhagen. The other journeymen in the shop asked him why he looked
so gloomy, and wanted him to go and amuse himself with them, as he was
still a young man. So he went with them to a dancing-room. He saw many
handsome girls there, but none like Joanna; and here, where he thought
to forget her, she was more life-like before his mind than ever.
"God gives us strength to bear much, if we try to do our best," she
had said; and as he thought of this, a devout feeling came into his
mind, and he folded his hands. Then, as the violins played and the
girls danced round the room, he started; for it seemed to him as if he
were in a place where he ought not to have brought Joanna, for she was
here with him in his heart; and so he went out at once. As he went
through the streets at a quick pace, he passed the house where she
used to live; it was all dark, empty, and lonely. But the world went
on its course, and Knud was obliged to go on too.
Winter came; the water was frozen, and everything seemed buried in
a cold grave. But when spring returned, and the first steamer prepared
to sail, Knud was seized with a longing to wander forth into the
world, but not to France. So he packed his knapsack, and travelled
through Germany, going from town to town, but finding neither rest
or peace. It was not till he arrived at the glorious old town of
Nuremberg that he gained the mastery over himself, and rested his
weary feet; and here he remained.
Nuremberg is a wonderful old city, and looks as if it had been cut
out of an old picture-book. The streets seem to have arranged
themselves according to their own fancy, and as if the houses objected