"Piscator.—But, my worthy friend, I would rather prove myself a gentleman by being learned and humble, valiant and inoffensive, virtuous and communicable, than by any fond ostentation of riches."
— The Complete Angler.

Pastor Lindal accepted the invitation to join the yacht. He was anxious to know more of Mrs. Hardy, in whose hands he felt so much of his daughter's future lay.

Mrs. Hardy had, as she had done before every Sunday, attended the parish church, and Helga thanked her for the contents of the packet of Danish bank notes. It was more in amount, she said, than she wanted, and would return Mrs. Hardy three-fourths of it.

"It is very kind," said Helga; "but I can only accept what is positively necessary, and I accept that because it would relieve my father from an expense that he cannot well bear, and because John might wish to see me well dressed when I am married to him."

"Would you not like to make Kirstin and your father's other servants a present when you are married?" said Mrs. Hardy.

"Yes, I shall; but I cannot use your money to do that, Mrs. Hardy. I shall give them what I have of my own, and what they know I have valued; it is not much, but they would like it best."

This conversation had ended when they reached the parsonage, where Robert Garth was waiting with the carriage to drive Mrs. Hardy and her son to Rosendal.

"John," said Mrs. Hardy, as they drove away, "she is worthy of your best affection. There is not a day passes but that something arises which makes me love her more and more." Mrs. Hardy loved again with her son's love.

"Mother," said John, "she is so dear to me; there is nothing that is not truth with her."

"You are right, John," said his mother. "Give her all your heart, and she will give you hers."

"I know it, mother," said John.

Pastor Lindal accompanied them to Aarhus, and when they came on board the yacht, John Hardy spread out the chart of the Danish islands before him.

"We can reach Nyborg to-night, Herr Pastor," said he, "and call and stop at Svendborg, and run round MØen's Klint to Copenhagen, and passing Elsinore to Aarhus again, stopping at any place on the way." "But the time?" asked the Pastor.

"A week," replied John; "or you can land at any place, and return by rail in a few hours."

"No, Herr Pastor," interposed Mrs. Hardy, "you must not bind us to time. We shall see if the cruise is a benefit to you, and if so, you must prolong it."

The Pastor always surrendered when challenged by Mrs. Hardy.

Whilst they were at lunch, the Rosendal steam yacht was passing SamsØ.

"This island," said John Hardy, "appears from the chart to be a sand bank washed up by the sea."

"So is all Denmark," said Pastor Lindal. "The legends and traditions belonging to SamsØ, however, are not as old as those of Jutland, and it would therefore appear not to have been inhabited at so early a period. There is an historical tradition that in 1576 a mermaid appeared to a man of SamsØ, and directed him to go to Kallundborg, where King Frederick II. was then staying with his court, and tell him that his queen would have a son, which would become a mighty ruler. The king questioned the man, who stated that the mermaid's name was Isbrand, and that she lived in the sea, not far from land, with her mother and grandmother, and that it was the latter that had foretold the birth of Queen Margrethe, who united the three Scandinavian kingdoms under one crown. King Frederick sent the man home, and commanded him not to come to the court again. The king's son was Christian IV., under whose rule Denmark attained its zenith of power. Once, when Christian IV. was driven ashore by a storm on SamsØ, he saw the priest's man ploughing. The king took the plough and ploughed a furrow, and told the man to tell his master that the king had ploughed for him."

"A good way to acquire popularity in those times," remarked Mrs. Hardy. "But are there any more stories of the kind?"

"There is the story of the Church of the Holy Cross. There is a tablet said to be yet in the church, on which there is an inscription," replied the Pastor. "This states that a gilt cross in the church was washed ashore bound to a corpse, but that when they would take the corpse to a particular churchyard, that four horses could not move the waggon in which it was placed. They then tried to draw the waggon to another churchyard, with the same result; but at last they directed the horses to the church at Onsberg, and then two horses could easily draw it; so the corpse was buried in the eastern end of the church, and the church afterwards called the Church of the Holy Cross. The date is given as 1596. There is also a story of the Swedish war of 1658, when a party of Swedish cavalry took a tailor prisoner, and set him at work on a table in a farm-house, while they fired at a mark on the door, the balls passing close to his head. It is said the door yet exists, with the bullet marks in it." "We have an island in sight, on the starboard bow, called Endelave; are there any traditions existing there?" asked Hardy.

"There is only the story of a giant who threw a stone from thence to Jutland, which was so large that two girls saved themselves from a bull by climbing to the top of it. There is, however, the variation that it was thrown by a giantess from Fyen (Funen) with her garter. I know of no special legend from Endelave."

"There is a town marked Kjerteminde on the chart; is that in recollection of anything specially historical, as would appear from the name?" asked Hardy.

"When Odin built the town called Odense," replied the Pastor, "the other towns were envious of its better appearance and condition, and particularly the town now called Kjerteminde, and complaint was made to Odin, who was angry, and replied, 'VÆr du mindre' (literally, 'be you less'); this was that they should continue to be smaller towns than Odense. In time the name from VÆr du mindre became altered to its present name of Kjerteminde. There is also the variation that the name is from St Gertrude's minde (memory) contracted to Kjerteminde. She was the sailors' patron saint."

"There is more to be said of Odense, as it was founded by Odin," said Mrs. Hardy.

"What I can tell you of Odense," said the Pastor, "is history, chiefly. There is the story that a rich man called Ubbe gave his property to St. Knud's (Canute) Church under singular circumstances. His relatives wanted him to leave his property to them, and they placed a woman in his household, if possible, to influence him in their favour, and she did not. Ubbe had become blind. He directed some tripe to be cooked, possibly because his teeth were gone. The woman, however, having no tripe, cut up an old felt hat and gave him. This he chewed and chewed, when a little child told him what it was. He was angry at the deceit, and gave his property to the Church; and the name of a portion of his lands was changed from Ubberud to Kallun (tripe). Odense is the birth-place of Hans Christian Andersen, whose stories have been translated into English," continued Pastor Lindal; "but, like other translations, they lose immeasurably by translation."

"What is the chief historical interest connected with Odense?" asked Mrs. Hardy.

"The death of St. Knud," replied the Pastor. "He was the grand-nephew of Canute the Great. He was killed in the church of St Albanus, in 1086, by his rebellious subjects. He wanted to make war on England, as he claimed the English throne, and they resisted; so far it is history. The story is that he was pursued, and fled to the church, and prayed for his enemies. He saw a Jutland man looking at him through a window of the church, and the king asked for water. The man ran to a stream and fetched water in a cup; but as he reached it to the king, another man struck the cup with his spear, and the water was spilt, and the king was killed by a stone thrown at him. The man who had prevented the king getting the cup of water went out of his mind, and had always a burning thirst, and on going to a well to drink fell down, and stuck in it over the water, which he could not reach, and so perished. The king was canonized, but is said to occasionally visit the church, where he was buried, from his place amongst the angels. This church he had just commenced to build. There is a story that when the tower was building, an apprentice told his master he was as good a builder. The master-builder went out of the tower on the scaffolding and stuck an axe into it, and told the apprentice to go and fetch it, if he could. The apprentice went, but called out that an adjoining village was approaching the town of Odense. 'Then God have mercy on your soul' said the master-builder. The apprentice fell to the ground and was killed. There is, however, a variation of this story, which localizes it in Copenhagen at Our Lady's Church there, and that the apprentice cried out that he saw two axes. The result was the same."

"Thank you very much, Herr Pastor," said Mrs. Hardy. "You must try and keep up the practice of speaking English." The Pastor was in the habit of falling back on his own language when he had a difficulty, for John Hardy to interpret. "I think we should have but one language all over the world," said the Pastor, "and that language should be English."

"There is not much to see at Nyborg, mother," said John, "and the pilot says if we leave early to-morrow that we had best anchor outside the harbour, clear of the course of the steamers from KorsØr. We shall have the anchor down at six, and we can go ashore and have dinner a little before eight, and then the Pastor can hold his second tobacco-parliament before we turn in. We shall also have to engage another pilot, as it is difficult navigation to Svendborg; and if we start at six, we shall be there at eight to-morrow, which will enable us to see Svendborg and its pretty neighbourhood, and in the evening can anchor under shelter of VÆirØ, an island, so as to reach Vordingborg early to-morrow."

Mrs. Hardy followed her son's explanation on the chart. He was himself the registered owner of his yacht, and acted as his own skipper when on board; and as his men had been with him in other yachts, of which he had been the owner, they had confidence in him, as they had seen his courage and seamanship again and again put to the proof.

"You are always self-reliant, John," said his mother.

"Yes; but Pastor Lindal has taught me on whom reliance should be placed," said John. "The simple trust he has and the simple faith of which he is convinced are in his life and practice. No sermon can have such influence as to be with him one day in his parish when he visits those he sees it necessary to visit. It is the simplicity of perfect truth about him that has made his daughter a pearl without price."

"I believe every word of what you say, John," said his mother. "She has now my heart as completely as she has yours."

There is not so much to see in Nyborg. The walk in the wood is pretty with its thoroughly Danish prospect, and there is little else to interest. Pastor Lindal was tired when they reached the yacht, but revived with the tonic effect of a good dinner. They adjourned to the deck-house, and Hardy essayed to fill the porcelain pipe with Kanaster, but failed. The pipe was too hard pressed with tobacco and would not draw, and it was not John Hardy only who missed Helga.

"Is there anything to relate about Nyborg, Herr Pastor?" asked Hardy.

"There is not much specially," replied the Pastor. "There is the story of the monkey taking Christian II. out of his cradle when there was a royal residence at Nyborg, and jumping out of the window with him, and taking him upon the roof, so that it was with difficulty that they got him down again. There is also the story of the ghost of Queen Helvig, who was married to Valdemar Atterdag. She is said to have appeared for years to the sentry on the ramparts, and to have always left a dollar under a stone, which he collected; but one day, he was sick, and told a comrade to fetch the dollar, but no dollars were placed under the stone after. Queen Helvig was imprisoned there for a long time, under a charge frequently preferred in those days."

"Had you not particular days called MÆrkedage, to which particular importance was attached?" asked Hardy.

"They were principally the greater festivals of the Church, or on New Year's Day," replied the Pastor. "Thus, for instance, if the sun shone out so long on New Year's Day that a horse could be saddled, it was a sign of a fruitful year; also, if a girl or a young man wished to know whom she or he would marry, they write the names of suspected persons on different pieces of paper, and put them under their pillows on New Year's Eve, and the one thus dreamt of is the one selected; also, if a turf is cut from the churchyard New Year's Eve, the person who puts it on his or her head can see who will die in the year, as their ghosts will appear in the churchyard. There is also another means to the same end, and that is when people sit at a table New Year's Eve; those that will die in the year cast a shadow, but without a head. Tyge Brahe has particularized many days in the year as being unlucky, on which to attend to any business or to do anything important, but they are so numerous that they are not regarded." "Herr Pastor," said Mrs. Hardy, "you are tired with your walk about Nyborg, and your speaking so much in English; I wish to suggest a subject that will give you something to think of."

"What may that be?" asked the Pastor.

"I have thought," said Mrs. Hardy, "that you might like to see us at home in England before the winter. John will leave at the end of August, and you might go with him. What I feel is, that I should like during the winter you should feel that your daughter is well cared for."

"I will go," said the Pastor; and he held out his hand to Mrs. Hardy in his Danish manner, and the matter was at an end. Mrs. Hardy's kindly tact always overcame him.

The visit to Svendborg entailed so much to see and explore, that it was not until late in the evening that the yacht was reached. The Pastor was, however, fresher than the evening before, possibly because they had not walked so much, but had driven.

"What we have seen at Svendborg, Herr Pastor, is very pretty," said Mrs. Hardy, "but it differs from an English landscape; and it is only by seeing both that you can realize the contrast."

"That is very possible," replied Pastor Lindal. "The same landscape painted by different artists would make each their impression; how much more, then, would nature, with influences we cannot understand, produce different effects?" Mrs. Hardy looked as if a fresh field of thought was opened to her, and her son observed his mother's look of surprise.

"I have been often astonished," he said, "to hear from Pastor Lindal and Helga a similar cast of thought that has given me something to think of for long after. I think it is the outcome of a natural singleness of thought we do not often meet."

"I believe you are right, John," said his mother. "But possibly Herr Pastor can tell us a tradition of Svendborg;" and she raised her voice and addressed him.

"There is the tradition of St. JØrgen," he said, "or, as you call it in English, St. George and the dragon. The features of the story, of course, are the same; with us the tradition runs as follows:—There was a temple inhabited by a dragon, who issued from it and laid waste the country. Each day the monster craved a human life, until at last lots were drawn as to who should be the victim, and from this neither the king nor his family were exempt, and the lot fell on his only daughter. The king offered half his kingdom to any one who should destroy the dragon. A knight called JØrgen attempted to do so, by putting poisoned cakes in the dragon's way; but that availed nothing. He then attacked it, and the monster retreated to Svendborg; but it again came forth, and a combat between the knight and the dragon ensued. The dragon was slain, and where its poisonous blood poured out no grass will grow. The combat is said to be delineated on the church bells. It is very probably only an echo of the Greek story of Perseus and Andromeda. You will observe the dragon in our tradition is said to have issued from a temple. We had no temples, the Greeks had.

"There are not many special traditions connected with Svendborg. There is the story of a noble lady who was murdered at Svendborg, but the murderers were men of rank, and the whole town agreed to pay blood-money, and some farms were apportioned to the murdered woman's relatives and a wooden cross set up over her grave; and it was agreed that when the wooden cross fell into decay, whoever first repaired it should possess the farm so apportioned. The consequence was that a wooden cross was always kept ready to repair the original cross. This story has many variations and is differently localized."

"Are there not many proverbs with regard to the weather, or the like, in Denmark?" asked Hardy.

"There are, but they are identical with the English," replied the Pastor. "There are some that may be new; for instance, we say that there is always some sun on a Saturday, that the poor may dry the clothes they wash. The farmers also say that if the priest takes his text from St. Luke in preaching his Sunday's sermon, it is sure to rain. Also, that a southerly wind is like a woman's anger, it always ends in weeping. Of days in the week we say, that if it rains on a Sunday and a Monday it will rain the whole week. Again, we say—

'SØndags Veir til Middag
Er Ugens Veir til Fredag.'
'Sunday's weather to midday
Is the week's weather to Friday.'

There is another of the same character:

'Tirsdag giver Veir til Torsdag,
Fredags Veir giver SØndags Veir,
LØrdag har sit eget Veir,
Mandag enten vÆrre eller bedre.'
'Tuesday's weather is Thursday's weather,
Friday's weather is Sunday's weather,
Saturday has its own weather,
Monday is either worse or better.'

The same, I believe, exists in England," continued the Pastor, "or at least very nearly allied to it."

"It is so," said Hardy.