Garman And Worse A Norwegian Novel by Alexander Lange Kielland (year 2 reading books .txt) 📖

As Sure As Chapter 12 Pg 88

Ever It Comes."

 

Morten Was Very Fond Of Horses; And Besides,  He Was Just In That Excited

And Obstinate Mood In Which People Sometimes Are,  When They Have Been

Dining At Their Club.

 

Madeleine Tried To Pacify Her Cousin,  But It Only Made Him All The

Worse.

 

"Just Look How Lame That One Is--The Left-Hand One!"

 

"You Mean The Near One,  Sir."

 

"Go To The Devil With Your Near And Off! I Mean The Left-Hand One,  The

Mare; Both Her Fore Legs Are As Round As Apples. Why,  I Saw That In The

Spring."

 

"Not Both Of Them," Answered The Old Coachman,  Doggedly.

 

"Yes,  They Are; But I Will Have This Looked To. I Will Have A Stop Put

To It,  Once For All," Said Morten,  Decidedly. He Was Just In The Humour

To Take Everything Very Much In earnest.

 

As Soon As They Arrived,  He Scarcely Gave Himself Time To Help Madeleine

Out Of The Carriage,  So Anxious Was He To Examine The Mare'S Fore Legs;

And She Heard The Voices Disputing And Wrangling Away In The Direction

Of The Stable,  As She Went Into The House.

 

Madeleine'S Window Looked To The Westward,  And When She Reached Her Room

She Found It Open. She Was Going To Shut It,  But The Sea Looked So

Peaceful Down Below In The Clear Moonlight,  That She Knelt Down On The

Window-Seat,  And Remained Gazing At The Lovely Scene. The Moon Had Just

Reached The Point At Which It Began To Shine Upon Her Window,  And The

Shadow Fell Obliquely From The Corner Of The House,  Just Beyond The

Hedge Below,  Thus Leaving A Triangular Space In darkness Close

Underneath. As Madeleine Leant Out She Could See That Miss Cordsen'S

Window Was Also Open. She Was Just Going To Call To The Old Lady,  With

Whom She Was On The Most Friendly Terms,  But On Consideration She

Thought It Would Be Nicer To Enjoy The Delightful Moonlight Evening

Alone.

 

In That Part Of The Garden The Paths Were To A Great Extent Overgrown By

The Spreading Trees. The Little Pond,  Which Had Once Been Full Of Carp,

And Where Even Now Some Remained,  Only No One Seemed To Notice Them,  Was

Fringed With Tall Rushes. On The Other Side Was The Old Summer-House,

Almost Hidden Among The Shrubs,  Which Were Now Never Clipped. The Fact

Is,  That Part Of The Garden Which Was Now Most Cared For Was That Which

Lay Just In Front Of The House,  And The Part We Are Now Speaking Of Was

Left Pretty Much To Itself. Along The Inside Of The Garden-Wall There

Stood A Row Of Aspen Trees,  Whose Leaves Were Beginning To Turn Yellow

And Strew Themselves On The Paths. Almost All The Other Trees Still Kept

Their Foliage,  Although It Was Already September. The Mountain Ash

Berries Were Beginning To Redden,  And Shone In Heavy Clusters Among The

Leaves,  While Here And There A Leaf Was To Be Seen Turning From Red To

Yellow. The Beech Trees,  Which Had Been Planted In The Time Of The Young

Consul'S Grandfather,  Spread Out Their Branches Far And Wide. The

Shining Dark Green Foliage Hung In Rich Festoons Nearly To The Ground,

Chapter 12 Pg 89

And The Long Shoots Were Fringed With Masses Of Tufted Beech-Nuts.

 

A Mysterious Silence Reigned In The Garden,  While The Moonlight Came

Rippling Noiselessly Through The Leaves And Stealing Down The Trunks,

Forming Patches Of Radiance On The Grass,  Which Were Sharply Defined By

The Edges Of The Dark Shadows. Goldfinches,  Bullfinches,  A Few Thrushes,

And Other Autumn Birds,  Were Sitting In The Aspen Trees. They Were

Mostly Occupied In Quietly Pluming Their Feathers,  And Only Some Of The

Young Birds,  Which Had Been Hatched That Spring,  Were Hopping About From

Branch To Branch. The Parents Sat Watching Them,  Thinking,  Doubtless,

How Delightful It Was To Be Young And Innocent. All Nature Seemed To

Have Reached Maturity,  And The Restless Activity Of Spring Was

Forgotten. The Birds Were Now Calm And Sober Enough. The Cocks And Hens

Sat Peacefully Side By Side,  No Advances Were Made Or Encouraged.

Love-Making,  With All Its Follies,  Was At An End For That Year. Only The

Curious Dragon-Flies,  With Their Four Long Wings And Taper Bodies,  Were

Still Busy With Their Love-Dances Over The Pond. August Had Been So

Rainy And Windy That They Seemed Anxious To Make The Most Of The Still

Autumn Evening. The Males Were Sitting Dotted About Among The Reeds,

Peering On Every Side With Their Prominent Eyes,  And When One Approached

Another Too Closely,  The Two Would Rush At Each Other Till Their

Transparent Wings,  Like Delicate Plates Of Silver,  And Their Scaly

Bodies,  Made A Tiny Rustling When They Met In conflict. Then All Was

Still Again Among The Rushes,  Until The Arrival Of A Female Dragon-Fly.

She Would Come Slowly And Carelessly Humming Along From Some Other Part

Of The Garden,  And When She Got Near The Pond Would Change Her Course,

Turn Off,  And Fly Back Again. Her Little Heart Was Doubtless Beating

High; But Casting Aside Her Fears,  She At Length Took Courage,  And Sped

On Over The Pond. Away Started Five Or Six Males,  Dashing At Each Other

Like Knights In Helm And Harness,  And Battling Confusedly Amid The Clash

Of Tiny Weapons. But The Happy Victor Soon Bid Adieu To The Conflict,

And Sailed Past The Others To The Side Of His Lovely Prize. Their Wings

Met For A Moment In Mimic Combat,  And Then Away They Glided In close

Embrace Far Over The Heads Of The Discomfited Champions,  Each Aiding

Other With Fairy Wings,  To Seek A Lonely Spot Far Away Among The Rushes.

 

A Plaintive Air,  Sung By Some Shrill Girlish Voices In The West End,  Was

Wafted Over By The Light Evening Breeze. It Was So Still That Madeleine

Could Follow Every Word:

 

     "I Now Myself Must Sever,

     My Little Friend,  From Thee.

     Let Naught Oppress Thee Ever;

     Soon Home Again I'Ll Be."

 

She Felt More Than Usually Depressed,  And Now,  Just As It Had Happened

After Church On Sunday,  Delphin'S Image Seemed Suddenly To Spring Up

Into Her Thoughts. Where He Came From She Knew Not. A Web Of Confused

Reveries Seemed To Weave Themselves In Her Soul,  Just As The Moon Shed

Its Mysterious Network Of Shadows Over The Grass.

 

Her Attention Was All At Once Attracted By A Noise In The Garden. She

Certainly Fancied That She Heard The Door Of The Summer-House Creak On

Its Rusty Hinges. At The Same Moment She Heard Morten'S Heavy Tread On

Chapter 12 Pg 90

The Stone Steps Leading Up To The Front Door: He Must Be Returning From

The Stable. It Was Time To Go To Bed,  But Still She Remained At The

Window,  Looking Towards The Summer-House. She Now Discovered Two Forms

That Were Going Slowly Down The Path Which Led To The Wicket In The

Garden Wall. This Path Was Fringed On Both Sides By High Overgrown

Hedges,  And She Could Only See The Heads Every Now And Then As They

Passed. In The Idea That It Was One Of The Maids With Her Sweetheart,

She Was Just Going To Shut The Window. It Was Surely Nothing Which

Concerned Her.

 

The Pair Had Just Reached The Place At Which Two Paths Crossed Each

Other,  Which Was Illuminated By A Broad Patch Of Moonlight. Madeleine

Could Not Help Being Curious To See Who It Might Be,  And Still Stood

Leaning Out Of The Window,  Holding On To The Fastening Of The Sun-Blind.

The Lovers Stood Still For A Moment,  As If They Felt That There Was

Danger In Passing The Place. At Length They Took Courage,  And Sped

Hastily By. But Not Hastily Enough--Madeleine Had Recognized Them Both.

Her Pulse Seemed To Stop And Her Heart To Sink Within Her,  And Without

Uttering A Sound She Slipped Down On The Floor Under The Window. In The

Passage,  Outside Her Door,  She Heard Morten Go Grumbling Back From The

Bedroom Which He And Fanny Usually Occupied,  And In Which She Was Not To

Be Found.

 

Madeleine'S Head Became Clear In a Moment In another Instant He Would Be

Down The Staircase,  Out In The Garden,  And Then--They Must Be Saved,  But

Why She Did Not Know,  Nor How; But Save Them She Must. Her First Idea

Was To Close The Window With A Bang,  But She Did Not Dare To Stand Up.

In Her Need She Saw The Water-Bottle On The Table. She Seized It,  And,

Without Lifting Her Head,  Put It On The Window-Sill. She Gave It A Push,

And A Second After She Heard The Crash Of The Glass,  And The Splash Of

The Water On The Paving-Stones With Which The House Was Surrounded. She

Lay Still,  Crouched In a Heap Under The Window.

 

A Light Hurried Step And The Rustle Of A Dress Were Heard Over The Lawn.

All Was So Still,  And Her Nerves Were In Such A State Of Tension,  That

Madeleine Could Hear One Of The French Windows Carefully Opened And

Closed Again. The Step Came Upstairs,  And As It Passed Her Door She

Heard Morten'S Voice Say,  "I Am Sure You Never Thought That I Should

Come Out This Evening;" And Fanny'S Answer,  "Oh,  One Feels That Sort Of

Thing Instinctively!"

 

Madeleine Breathed Again. It Was Indeed Fanny'S Voice,  In Its Most

Insinuating And Deceitful Tones.

 

A Short Time Afterwards She Got Up And Closed Her Window,  And

Withdrawing Into The Farthest Corner Of The Room,  She Hastily Undressed

And Crept Into Bed. Her Tears Flowed The Whole Time,  But She Was Utterly

Crushed,  And Soon Fell Into A Heavy Slumber.

 

A Good Hour After Madeleine Had Gone To Sleep,  Her Door Opened

Noiselessly,  And A Tall Shadowy Form Glided Into The Chamber. The Form

Placed A Water-Bottle Upon The Table. The Moon Had Reached The Point At

Which It Shone Obliquely Into The Window,  And Down Upon The Bed Where

Madeleine Was Sleeping. The Apparition Drew The Curtains More Closely,

And The While A Beam Of Moonlight Passed Over Its Features. They Were

Furrowed With Innumerable Small Wrinkles,  And A Night-Cap With Starched

Strings Was Knotted Tightly Under The Chin.