"a swarm of colors, noise and screaming,

music and sights, past any dreaming,

the rattle of wheels going late and early,--

all draw the looker-on into the hurly-burly."

th. overskou.

a few days passed on. otto heard nothing of german heinrich or of his sister. peter cripple seemed not to be in their confidence. all that he knew was, that the letter which he had conveyed to otto was to be unknown to any one beside. as regarded german heinrich, he believed that he was now in another part of tire country; but that at st. knud's fair, in odense, he would certainly find him.

in otto's soul there was an extraordinary combating. louise's words, that he had been deceived, gave birth to hopes, which, insignificant as the grain of mustard-seed, shot forth green leaves.

"may not," thought he, "german heinrich, to further his own plans, have made use of my fear? i must speak with him; he shall swear to me the truth."

he compared in thought the unpleasing, coarse features of sidsel, with the image which his memory faintly retained of his little sister. she seemed to him as a delicate creature with large eyes. he had not forgotten that the people about them had spoken of her as of "a kitten that they could hardly keep alive." how then could she now be this square-built, singularly plain being, with the eyebrows growing together? "i must speak with heinrich," resolved he; "she cannot be my sister! so heavily as that god will not try me."

by such thoughts as these his mind became much calmer. there were moments when the star of love mirrored itself in his life's sea.

his love for sophie was no longer a caged bird within his breast; its wings were at liberty; louise saw its release; it was about to fly to its goal.

st. knud's fair was at hand, and on that account the family was about to set out for odense. eva was the only one who was to remain at home. it was her wish to do so.

"odense is not worth the trouble of thy going to see," said sophie; "but in this way thou wilt never increase thy geographical knowledge. in the mean time, however, i shall bring thee a fairing --a husband of honey cake, ornamented with almonds."

wilhelm thought that she should enjoy the passing pleasure, and go with them; but eva prayed to stay, and she had her will.

"there is a deal of pleasure in the world," said wilhelm, "if people will only enjoy it. if one day in paris is a brilliant flower, a day at odense fair is also a flower. it is a merry, charming world that we live in! i am almost ready to say with king valdemar, that if i might keep--yes, i will say, the earth, then our lord might willingly for me keep heaven: there it is much better than we deserve; and god knows whether we may not, in the other world, have longings after the old world down here!"

"after odense fair?" asked sophie ironically.

otto stood wrapped in his own thoughts. this day, he felt, would be one of the most remarkable in his life. german heinrich must give him an explanation. sophie must do so likewise could he indeed meet with success from them both? would not sorrow and pain be his fairings?

the carriage rolled away.

from the various cross-roads came driving up the carriages of the gentry and the peasants; the one drove past the other; and as the french and english channel collects ships from the atlantic ocean, so did the king's road those who drove in carriages, those who rode on horseback, and those who went on foot.

behind most of the peasant-vehicles were tied a few horses, that went trotting on with them. mamsells from the farms sat with large gloves on their red arms and hands. they held their umbrellas before their faces on account of the dust and the sun.

"the kammerjunker's people must have set off earlier than we," said sophie, "otherwise they would have called for us."

otto looked inquiringly at her. she thought on the kammerjunker!

"we shall draw up by faugde church," said sophie. "mr. thostrup can see kingo's [author's note: the bishop of funen, who died in 1703.] grave--can see where the sacred poet lies. some true trumpeting angels, in whom one can rightly see how heavy the marble is, fly with the bishop's staff and hat within the chapel."

otto smiled, and she thought also about giving him pleasure.

the church was seen, the grave visited, and they rapidly rolled along the king's road toward odense, the lofty tower of whose cathedral had hailed them at some miles' distance.

we do not require alone from the portrait-painter that he should represent the person, but that he should represent him in his happiest moment. to the plain as well as to the inexpressive countenance must the painter give every beauty which it possesses. every human being has moments in which something intellectual or characteristic presents itself. nature, too, when we are presented only with the most barren landscape, has the same moments; light and shadow produce these effects. the poet must be like the painter; he must seize upon these moments in human life as the other in nature.

if the reader were a child who lived in odense, it would require nothing more from him than that he should say the words, "st. knud's fair;" and this, illumined by the beams of the imagination of childhood, would stand before him in the most brilliant colors. our description will be only a shadow; it will be that, perhaps, which the many will find it to be.

already in the suburbs the crowd of people, and the outspread earthenware of the potters, which entirely covered the trottoir, announced that the fair was in full operation.

the carriage drove down from the bridge across the odense river.

"see, how beautiful it is here!" exclaimed wilhelm.

between the gardens of the city and a space occupied as a bleaching ground lay the river. the magnificent church of st. knud, with its lofty tower, terminated the view.

"what red house was that?" inquired otto, when they had lost sight of it.

"that is the nunnery!" replied louise, knowing what thought it was which had arisen in his mind.

"there stood in the ancient times the old bishop's palace, where beldenak lived!" said sophie. "just opposite to the river is the bell-well, where a bell flew out of st. albani's tower. the well is unfathomable. whenever rich people in odense die, it rings down below the water!"

"it is not a pleasant thought," said otto, "that it rings in the well when they must die."

"one must not take it in that way now!" said sophie, laughing, and turned the subject. "odense has many lions," continued she, "from a king's garden with swans in it to a great theatre, which has this in common with la scala and many italian ones, that it is built upon the ruins of a convent. [note: that of the black brothers.]

"in odense, aristocracy and democracy held out the longest," said wilhelm, smiling; "yet i remember, in my childhood, that when the nobles and the citizens met on the king's birthday at the town-house ball, that we danced by ourselves."

"were not, then, the citizens strong enough to throw the giddy nobles out of the window?" inquired otto.

"you forget, mr. thostrup, that you yourself are noble!" said sophie. "i was really the goddess of fate who gave to you your genealogical tree."

"you still remember that evening?" said otto, with a gentle voice, and the thoughts floated as gayly in his mind as the crowd of people floated up and down in the streets through which they drove.

somewhere about the middle of the city five streets met; and this point, which widens itself out into a little square, is called the cross street: here lay the hotel to which the family drove.

"two hours and a quarter too late!" said the kammerjunker, who came out to meet them on the steps. "good weather for the fair, and good horses! i have already been out at the west-gate, and have bought two magnificent mares. one of them kicked out behind, and had nearly given me a blow on the breast, so that i might have said i had had my fairing! jakoba is paying visits, drinking chocolate, and eating biscuits. mamsell is out taking a view of things. now you know our story."

the ladies went to their chamber, the gentlemen remained in the saloon.

"yes, here you shall see a city and a fair, mr. thostrup!" said the kammerjunker, and slapped otto on the shoulder.

"odense was at one time my principal chief-city," said wilhelm; "and still st. knud's church is the most magnificent i know. god knows whether st. peter's in rome would make upon me, now that i am older, the impression which this made upon me as a child!"

"in st. knud's church lies the mamsell with the cats," said the kammerjunker.

"the bishop's lady, you should say," returned wilhelm. "the legend relates, that there was a lady of a bishop mus who loved her cats to that degree that she left orders that they should be laid with her in the grave. [author's note: the remains of the body, as well as the skeletons of the cats, are still to be seen in a chapel on the western aisle of the church.] we will afterward go and see them."

"yes, both the bishop's lady and the cats," said the kammerjunker, "look like dried fish! then you must also see the nunnery and the military library."

"the hospital and the house of correction!" added wilhelm.

the beating of a drum in the street drew them to the window. the city crier, in striped linsey-woolsey jacket and breeches, and with a yellow band across his shoulders, stood there, beat upon his drum, and proclaimed aloud from a written paper many wonderful things which were to be seen in the city.

"he beats a good drum," said the kammerjunker.

"it would certainly delight rossini and spontini to hear the fellow!" said wilhelm. "in fact odense would be, at new year's time, a city for these two composers. you must know that at that season drums and fifes are in their glory. they drum the new year in. seven or eight little drummers and fifers go from door to door, attended by children and old women; at that time they beat both the tattoo and the reveille. for this they get a few pence. when the new year is drummed-in in the city they wander out into the country, and drum there for bacon and groats. the new year's drumming in lasts until about easter."

"and then we have new pastimes," said the kammerjunker.

"then come the fishers from stige, [author's note: a fishing village in odense fjord.] with a complete band, and carrying a boat upon their shoulders ornamented with a variety of flags. after that they lay a board between two boats, and upon this two of the youngest and the strongest have a wrestling-match, until one of them falls into the water. the last years they both have allowed themselves to tumble in. and this has been done in consequence of one young man who fell in being so stung by the jeers which his fall had occasioned that he left, that same day, the fishing village, after which no one saw him. but all the fun is gone now! in my boyhood the merriment was quite another thing. it was a fine sight when the corporation paraded with their ensign and harlequin on the top! and at easter, when the butchers led about a bullock ornamented with ribbons and easter-twigs, on the back of which was seated a little winged boy in a shirt. they had turkish music, and carried flagons with them! see! all that have i outlived, and yet i am not so old. baron wilhelm must have seen the ornamented ox. now all that is past and gone; people are got so refined! neither is st. knud's fair that which it used to be."

"for all that, i rejoice that it is not so!" said wilhelm. "but we will go into the market and visit the jutlanders, who are sitting there among the heath with their earthenware. you will stand a chance there, mr. thostrup, of meeting with an old acquaintance; only you must not have home-sickness when you smell the heather and hear the ringing of the clattering pots!"

the ladies now entered. before paying any visits they determined upon making the round of the market. the kammerjunker offered his arm to the mother. otto saw this with secret gladness, and approached sophie. she accepted him willingly as an attendant; they must indeed get into the throng.

as in the middle ages the various professions had their distinct streets and quarters, so had they also here. the street which led to the: market place, and which in every-day life was called the "shoemaker street," answered perfectly to its name. the shoemakers had ranged their tables side by side. these, and the rails which had been erected for the purpose, were hung over with all kinds of articles for the feet; the tables themselves were laden with heavy shoes and thick-soled boots. behind these stood the skillful workman in his long sunday coat, and with his well-brushed felt-hat upon his head.

where the shoemakers' quarter ended that of the hatters' began, and with this one was in the middle of the great market-place, where tents and booths formed many parallel streets. the booth of galanterie wares, the goldsmith's, and the confectioner's, most of them constructed of canvas, some few of them of wood, were points of great attraction. round about fluttered ribbons and handkerchiefs; round about were noise and bustle. peasant-girls out of the same village went always in a row, seven or eight inseparables, with their hands fast locked in each other; it was impossible to break the chain; and if people tried to press through them, the whole flock rolled together in a heap.

behind the booths there lay a great space filled with wooden shoes, coarse earthenware, turners' and saddlers' work. upon tables were spread out toys, generally rudely made and coarsely painted. all around the children assayed their little trumpets, and turned about their playthings. the peasant-girls twirled and twisted both the work-boxes and themselves many a time before the bargain was completed. the air was heavy with all kinds of odors, and was spiced with the fragrance of honey-cake.

here acquaintances met each other-some peasant-maidens, perhaps, who had been born in the same village, but since then had been separated.

"good day!" exclaimed they, took each other by the hand, gave their arms a swing, and laughed.

"farewell!"

that was the whole conversation: such a one went on in many places.

"that is the heather!" exclaimed otto, as he approached the quarter where the jutland potters had their station; "how refreshing is the odor!" said he, and stooping down seized a twig fresh and green, as if it had been plucked only yesterday.

"aye, my jesus though! is not that mr. otto!" exclaimed a female voice just beside him, and a young jutland peasantwoman skipped across the pottery toward him. otto knew her. it was the little maria, the eelman's daughter, who, as we may remember at otto's visit to the fisher's, had removed to ringkjoebing, and had hired herself for the hay and cornharvest--the brisk maria, "the girl," as her father called her. she had been betrothed in ringkjoebing, and married to the rich earthenware dealer, and now had come across the salt-water to odense fair, where she should meet with mr. otto.

"her parents lived on my grandfather's estate," said otto to sophie, who observed with a smile the young wife's delight in meeting with an acquaintance of her childhood. the husband was busily employed in selling his wares; he heard nothing of it.

"nay, but how elegant and handsome you are become!" said the young wife: "but see, i knew you again for all that! grandmother, you may believe me, thinks a deal about you! the old body, she is so brisk and lively; it does not trouble her a bit that she cannot see! you are the second acquaintance that i have met with in the fair. it's wonderful how people come here from all parts of the world! the players are here too! you still remember the german heinrich? over there in the gray house, at the corner of the market, he is acting his comedy in the gateway."

"i am glad that i have seen you!" said otto, and nodded kindly. "greet them at home, and the grandmother, for me!"

"greet them also from me!" said sophie smiling. "you, mr. thostrup, must for old acquaintance sake buy something. you ought also to give me a fairing: i wish for that great jug there!"

"where are you staying!" cried wilhelm, and came back, whilst the rest went forward.

"we would buy some earthenware," said sophie. "souvenir de jutland. the one there has a splendid picture on it!"

"you shall have it!" said otto. "but if i requested a fairing from you, i beseech of you, might i say"--

"that it possibly might obtain its worth from my hand," said sophie, smiling. "i understand you very well--a sprig of heather? i shall steal!" said she to the young wife, as she took a little sprig of heath and stuck it into his buttonhole. "greet the grandmother for me!"

otto and sophie went.

"that's a very laughing body!" said the woman half aloud, as she looked after them; her glance followed otto, she folded her hands-- she was thinking, perhaps, on the days of her childhood.

at st. knud's church-yard otto and sophie overtook the others. they were going into the church. on the fair days this and all the tombs within it were open to the public.

from whichever side this church is contemplated from without, the magnificent old building has, especially from its lofty tower and spire, something imposing about it; the interior produces the same, nay, perhaps a greater effect. but as the principal entrance is through the armory, and the lesser one is from the side of the church, its full impression is not felt on entering it; nor is it until you arrive at the end of the great aisle that you are aware rightly of its grandeur. all there is great, beautiful, and light. the whole interior is white with gilding. aloft on the high-vaulted roof there shine, and that from the old time, many golden stars. on both sides, high up, higher than the side-aisles of the church, are large gothic windows, from which the light streams down. the side-aisles are adorned with old paintings, which represent whole families, women and children, all clad in canonicals, in long robes and large ruffs. in an ordinary way, the figures are all ranged according to age, the oldest first, and then down to the very least child, and stand with folded hands, and look piously with downcast eyes and faces all in one direction, until by length of time the colors have all faded away.

just opposite to the entrance of the church may be seen, built into the wall, a stone, on which is a bas-relief, and before it a grave. this attracted otto's attention.

"it is the grave of king john and of queen christina, of prince francesco and of christian the second," said wilhelm; "they lie together in a small vault!" [author's note: on the removal of the church of the grey brothers, the remains of these royal parents and two of their children were collected in a coffin and placed here in st. knud's church. the memorial stone, of which we have spoken, was erected afterwards.]

"christian the second!" exclaimed otto. "denmark's wisest and dearest king!"

"christian the bad!" said the kammerjunker, amazed at the tone of enthusiasm in which otto had spoken.

"christian the bad!" repeated otto; "yes, it is now the mode to speak of him thus, but we should not do so. we ought to remember how the swedish and danish nobles behaved themselves, what cruelties they perpetrated, and that we have the history of christian the second from one of the offended party. writers flatter the reigning powers. a prince must have committed crimes, or have lost his power, if his errors are to be rightly presented to future generations. people forget that which was good in christian, and have painted the dark side of his character, to the formation of which the age lent its part."

the kammerjunker could not forget the swedish bloodbath, the execution of torben oxe, and all that can be said against the unfortunate king.

otto drove him completely out of the field, in part from his enthusiasm for christian the second, but still more because it was the kammerjunker with whom he was contending. sophie took otto's side, her eye sparkled applause, and the victory could not be other than his.

"what is it that the poet said of the fate of a king?" said sophie.

"woe's me for him

who to the world shows more of ill than good!

the good each man ascribes unto himself,

whilst on him only rest the crimes o' th' age."

"had christian been so fortunate as to have subdued the rebellious nobles," continued otto, "could he have carried out his bold plans, then they would have called him christian the great: it is not the active mind, but the failure in any design, which the world condemns."

louise nevertheless took the side of the kammerjunker, and therefore these two went together up the aisle toward the tomb of the glorup family. wilhelm and his mother were already gone out of the church.

"i envy you your eloquence!" said sophie, and looked with an expression of love into otto's face; she bent herself over the railing around the tomb, and looked thoughtfully upon the stone. thoughts of love were animated in otto's soul.

"intellect and heart!" exclaimed he, "must admire that which is great: you possess both these!" he seized her hand.

a faint crimson passed over sophie's cheeks. "the others are gone out!" she said; "come, let us go up to the chancel."

"up to the altar!" said otto; "that is a bold course for one's whole life!"

sophie looked jestingly at him. "do you see the monument there within the pillars?" asked she after a short pause; "the lady with the crossed arms and the colored countenance? in one night she danced twelve knights to death, the thirteenth, whom she had invited for her partner, cut her girdle in two in the dance and she fell dead to the earth!" [author's note: in thiele's danish popular tradition it is related that she was one margrethe skofgaard of sanderumgaard, and that she died at a ball, where she had danced to death twelve knights. the people relate it with a variation as above; it is probable that it is mingled with a second tradition, for example, that of the blood-spots at koldinghuus, which relates that an old king was so angry with his daughter that he resolved to kill her, and ordered that his knights should dance with her one after another until the breath was out of her. nine had danced with her, and then came up the king himself as the tenth, and when he became weary he cut her girdle in two, on which the blood streamed from her mouth and she died.]

"she was a northern turandot!" said otto; "the stony heart itself was forced to break and bleed. there is really a jest in having the marble painted. she stands before future ages as if she lived--a stone image, white and red, only a mask of beauty. she is a warning to young ladies!"

"yes, against dancing!" said sophie, smiling at otto's extraordinary gravity.

"and yet it must be a blessed thing," exclaimed he, "a very blessed thing, amid pealing music, arm-in-arm with one's beloved, to be able to dance life away, and to sink bleeding before her feet!"

"and yet only to see that she would dance with a new one!" said sophie.

"no, no!" exclaimed otto, "that you could not do! that you will not do! o sophie, if you knew!"--he approached her still nearer, bent his head toward her, and his eye had twofold fire and expression in it.

"you must come with us and see the cats!" said the kammerjunker, and sprang in between them.

"yes, it is charming!" said sophie. "you will have an opportunity, mr. thostrup, of moralizing over the perishableness of female beauty!"

"in the evening, when we drive home together," thought otto to himself consolingly, "in the mild summer-evening no kammerjunker will disturb me. it must, it shall be decided! misfortune might subject the wildness of childhood, but it gave me confidence, it never destroyed my independence; love has made me timid,--has made me weak. may i thereby win a bride?"

gravely and with a dark glance he followed after sophie and her guide.