Part 2

As he had not noticed the irregularity in the plan of the room, he could not tell whether the passage-way into which the door opened was in a thick wall, or between two walls joined above. He pushed the secret door--for it was one--without expecting that it would open, and, seeing that it was not fastened in any way, he cautiously went forward to see what he could find. He had not gone three steps when the candle went out. Luckily the fire was burning, and he was able to light it again, while listening with a certain pleasure to the sharp and melancholy whistling of the wind in the secret passage.

Cristiano had a romantic disposition, and was in the habit of indulging in poetic fancies. It seemed to him that the spirits so long imprisoned in this abandoned hall were complaining at being disturbed in their mysteries; and as he was afraid, moreover, that the cold would increase poor Jean’s cough, he took pains, when he went out again, to shut the door after him; he had noticed, beforehand, that there were strong bolts on the outside, but that its own weight was sufficient to keep it in its place.

We will leave him for the present to proceed on his expedition, and introduce another traveller into the bear-room.

This also is an unexpected visitor, but he is accompanied by Ulphilas, who lights him with respect, while they are followed by a shivering little serving-lad, dressed in a full suit of red. These three persons are talking Dalecarlian, and they are still in the court, Ulphilas with a terrified expression, and the two others looking very impatient.

“Come, Ulph, come, my lad,” said the stranger, “don’t be so formal; light us to this famous room, and attend to my horse at once. He is all in a sweat with dragging the sleigh up your little rock. Good horse! I would not lose him for ten thousand rix dollars.”

The person who addressed Ulphilas thus was the senior advocate of the city of Gevala, Doctor of Laws of the Faculty of Lund.

“What, Monsieur Goefle,[1] do you want to stay here all night? Do you really mean so?”

“Hush, hush! I know it will annoy honest Sten; but, when I am once installed, he will have to make up his mind to it. Take the horse, I tell you--I know the way.”

“What, Monsieur Advocate, you come here all alone in the night with your grandson?”

“You rascal! you know very well that I have no children. Here, little Nils, come and help me unharness poor Loki. You see that it is the fashion here to talk, and do nothing else. Come, rouse yourself; are you frozen with a trip of three or four hours at nightfall?”

“Leave him alone, Monsieur Goefle, he is too little,” said Ulphilas, feeling the lawyer’s reproach. “Take the first door to the right, and get under shelter; I will answer for the horse.”

“Nonsense, it has stopped snowing! This little flurry has only made the weather milder,” resumed M. Goefle, who, both by profession and taste, was no less of a talker than Cristiano. “I have not been cold at all, and shall do capitally if I eat a good plate of porridge, and smoke a good pipe, before going to bed. Come, Nils, carry one of these bundles into the room yonder; it will be something for you to do, and will warm you. Are you asleep already? It is not more than seven o’clock.”

“Oh, Monsieur Goefle,” said the little lad, with his teeth chattering, “it has been night for a long time, and I am always so afraid in the night.”

“Afraid? Of what, pray? Well, console yourself; at this season the days are getting a minute and a half longer daily.”

Talking away after this fashion, M. Goefle, who was a man of about sixty, dry, active and cheerful, himself put the horse into the stable, while Ulphilas drew the sleigh into the coach-house, and hung up the harness and bells. In the meanwhile, little Nils still sat shivering on the luggage which was under the wooden gallery around the court.

When M. Goefle was satisfied that his beloved Loki, the handsome and generous little horse whom he had named for the Prometheus of the Scandinavian mythology, would want for nothing, he turned, and with his firm step proceeded towards the bear-room.

“Wait, wait, Monsieur Advocate,” said Ulphilas, “that is not the way. The double-bedded room that we call the guard-room--”

“_Parbleu!_ I know all about it,” replied M. Goefle. “I have slept in it before now.”

“Perhaps so, but that was a long time ago. It is so out of repair now--”

“Well, if it is out of repair you can make me up a bed in the bear-room.”

“In the--”

Ulph dared not finish, so monstrous did M. Goefle’s suggestions seem. Taking courage after a pause, he resumed:--

“No, M. Goefle, no! That is impossible; you are joking! I will go and look for the key of the other room, which perhaps is in a better state than I thought (my uncle sometimes goes there), and since there is a second door to the gallery, you won’t have the annoyance of going through, you know.”

“What! Has not that poor bear-room lost its bad reputation since the staircase door was walled up? Nonsense, Ulph, my lad, you are old enough to know better. I insist upon your opening the door immediately. It is too cold to wait here while you go in search of other keys, and since you have it about you--”

“I haven’t got it!” cried Ulphilas. “I swear to you, M. Goefle, that I haven’t got the key of the _bear_ any more than that of the _guard_.”

While discussing thus, M. Goefle, accompanied by Ulphilas, who lighted him very unwillingly, and Nils, who followed close at his heels, reached the second door of the donjon, upon the ground-floor of which the bear-room was situated. As this door was only fastened by an outside bolt, the advocate entered the inner court without difficulty, and going up three steps, pushed the door of the bear-room, which, yielding to his impatient hand, opened wide with such a plaintive squeak, that Nils started back in terror.

“Open! It was open!” cried Ulphilas, turning as pale as his red and shining face was capable of becoming.

“Well, suppose it was?” said M. Goefle. “Stenson, no doubt, has been through this way.”

“He never comes here, Monsieur Goefle. Oh, there’s no danger of that!”

“So much the better, then. I can get settled without troubling him, and without his knowing anything about it. But what have you been telling me? Some one must have been here, for there is a fire in the stove! I see how it is, Monsieur Ulphilas Stenson! You have let or promised this room to some one whom you are waiting for. The deuce! so much the worse for them. There is no room at the new chateau, and you must make room for me here. But never mind, my poor fellow, I will pay you as well as any one. Light these candles; that is to say, go and get something to trim them with, and then bring bed-clothes, warming-pans, whatever we may need; and, above all things, don’t forget the supper. Nils will help you; he is very quick, very skilful, and very obliging. Come, Nils, exert yourself: find our bed-room, the guard-room, as Ulphilas calls it, all alone; I know where it is, but I won’t tell you. Look for it; show us how bright you are, Master Nils.”

Good Monsieur Goefle might as well have been talking in a desert. Ulphilas was standing petrified in the middle of the room, Nils was warming his hands at the stove, and the doctor was left to get settled as he best could.

At last Ulph heaved a sigh that might have turned a mill-wheel, and said in an emphatic voice,--

“Upon my honor, Monsieur Goefle, upon my eternal salvation, I have neither let nor promised this room to any one. How can you think such a thing when you know what has happened here, and what goes on even now. Oh! nothing would induce my uncle Stenson to let you stop here. I will inform him of your arrival, and since they were not able to accommodate you at the new chateau, he will give you up his own room.”

“I will not allow anything of the kind,” replied M. Goefle; “you must not even tell him that I have come. He will learn to-morrow that I am here, and am very comfortable. The guard-room is rather small, but it will do very well for sleeping, and this shall be my drawing-room and office. It is not particularly cheerful; but for two or three days I shall be quiet, at least.”

“Quiet!” cried Ulphilas. “Quiet in a room haunted by the devil?”

“What makes you think that, friend Ulph?” said the doctor of laws, smiling, while little Nils began to shiver again, from fear quite as much as the wintry cold.

“I think so for three reasons,” replied Ulph, with gloomy solemnity. “In the first place, you found the door of the court open, although I had locked it after sunset; in the second place, the door of this room was also open, a thing that has not happened since I came here five years ago to take care of my uncle and wait upon him. The third and most incredible thing of all is, that there is a fire lighted, and that the stove is warm, although no fire has been made here for twenty years, and perhaps more. Lastly--hold, Monsieur Doctor, look!--there is some wax freshly spilled on the floor, and yet--”

“You spilled it yourself, you idiot; you are holding your lantern upside-down.”

“Oh, no, Monsieur Goefle! mine is a tallow candle, and that under the chandelier--wait!”

Ulph looked up and uttered a cry of horror on seeing that there were only ten candles and a half in the chandelier, instead of eleven and a half.

The lawyer was naturally kind and good-natured. Instead of allowing the preoccupation of Ulphilas, and the terror of Nils, to make him angry, he only thought of amusing himself at their expense.

“Well, God be praised!” he said, very seriously, “that proves that there are kobolds here; and if they will only be so good as to appear to me (I have wanted to become acquainted with them all my life, without ever seeing a single one), I shall congratulate myself all the more upon coming to this room, where I can sleep under their kind protection.”

“No, no, Monsieur Doctor,” replied Ulphilas, “there are no kobolds here! This is a melancholy and accursed place, as you know; a place where the trolls of the lake come to disturb and spoil everything, like wicked spirits as they are, while the little kobolds are friendly to man, and only think of doing him good. The kobolds save, and do not waste. They never carry anything away--”

“On the contrary, they bring! I know all about that, Master Ulph; but how do you know that I have not a kobold of my own who came on here before me? Very likely he took the candle to light the fire, so that I might find a warm place on my arrival; and, knowing that you were a great coward, who would keep me waiting a long time, opened the doors beforehand. Now, he is all ready, no doubt, to help you about my supper, if you will only be as good as to attend to it, for you know kobolds don’t like lazy folks, and only wait upon those who show a disposition to help others.”

This explanation soothed, in a measure, the fears of his two auditors. Nils ventured to turn his great blue eyes upon the gloomy walls of the apartment, and Ulph, after giving the lawyer a key to the closet of the guard-room, went to prepare their supper.

“Well, Nils,” said the lawyer to his little servant, “we can scarcely see at all with this abominable lantern. You can make up the beds later; in the meanwhile, go and unpack my trunk. Put it on the table.”

“But, Monsieur Doctor,” said the child, “I cannot so much as lift it; it is heavy.”

“True,” replied the lawyer; “it is full of papers, and is very heavy.”

He himself took the trunk, and with a slight effort placed it upon a chair, adding,--

“At any rate, take the valise with my clothes. I have only brought what was necessary, and it is very light.”

Nils obeyed, but he could not open the padlock.

“I thought you were more skilful than that,” said the lawyer, becoming a little impatient; “your aunt told me--I am afraid my good Gertrude praised you rather too highly.”

“Oh,” replied the child, “I can open trunks very well when they are not locked. But tell me, Monsieur Goefle, is it true that you have a kobold to wait upon you?”

“What, a kobold? Oh yes! I was thinking of something else. Do you believe in kobolds, my boy?”

“Yes, if there are any. Aren’t they wicked sometimes?”

“Never; especially as they do not exist.”

“Oh, but you said just now--”

“I only said that to laugh at that blockhead. As for you, Nils, I don’t want you to believe in any such nonsense. You know that I intend to make you something more than a mere servant; to educate you a little, and make you sensible, if I can.”

“But, Monsieur Goefle, my aunt Gertrude believes in them. She believes in good and bad spirits.”

“My housekeeper? She takes good care not to acknowledge it before me. She pretends to be strong-minded, when I have time to talk to her. No, no, you are mistaken; she doesn’t believe anything of the kind. She only says so to amuse you.”

“But it doesn’t amuse me at all; it makes me afraid, and keeps me awake all night.”

“In that case she is wrong. But what are you about? Is that the way that you unpack a trunk, throwing everything on the floor? Was it so that the pastor of Falun taught you to wait on him?”

“I did not wait upon the pastor, Monsieur Goefle. He only took me to play with his little boy, who was ill, and we had such a good time! We used to make little paper boats, and little bread sleighs, all day long.”

“Oh, ho! that is worth knowing!” said the doctor of laws, angrily; “and Gertrude told me that you were so useful in that house.”

“I was very useful, Monsieur Goefle!”

“Yes, making paper boats and bread sleighs! That assuredly is a very useful employment! But let me tell you that if you can’t do anything else, at your age--”

“I know as much as other children ten years old, Monsieur Goefle.”

“The devil! ten years old? Are you only ten years old? Your aunt said that you were thirteen or fourteen. Well, brat, what is the matter? What are you crying about?”

“Why, Monsieur Doctor, you are scolding me; it is not my fault if I am only ten years old.”

“Correct! That is the first sensible remark you have made since I was so fortunate as to take you into my service this morning. Come, dry your eyes and wipe your nose. I am not angry. You are large and strong for your age, at all events; and what you don’t know, you will learn. What do you say?”

“Oh yes, Monsieur Goefle! that is just what I should like.”

“But will you learn quickly? I am very impatient, I can tell you!”

“Yes indeed, monsieur, I will learn everything right off.”

“Do you know how to make a bed?”

“I think so. At the pastor’s I always used to make mine all by myself.”

“Or you did not make it at all! Never mind, we shall soon see.”

“But, Monsieur Goefle, when my aunt came to Falun this morning to see me off on my journey, she told me that I wouldn’t have to work. She said: ‘You won’t have anything to do at the chateau where you are going with your master. In the chateau of the Baron de--de--’”

“De Waldemora?”

“Yes, that’s it!--‘there are beautiful rooms always in order, and plenty of servants to do everything. What Monsieur Goefle wants is, that you should always be on hand to give orders in his place. He don’t wish to take François, because François would never stay in his room. He was always drinking, and amusing himself with the other servants, and monsieur would have to run and hunt him up to get what he wanted. That put him out, and he did not like it at all. Now you must be very good, and never leave him; do you hear? You must see that he is well waited upon, and then you will be waited upon too.’”

“So,” said the doctor, “that is what you expect!”

“I am sure I am very good, Monsieur Goefle. I don’t leave you; I am not running about with the tall servants at the chateau.”

“Would to heaven you were! I defy you to do anything of the kind, however, in our present quarters.”

“Why? Is the road over the lake the only way to the new chateau?”

“The only way; otherwise, I see plainly that you would already be with the tall valets in livery.”

“Oh no, Monsieur Goefle, since you wouldn’t like it! But how beautiful it was over there!”

“Where, at Waldemora?”

“Yes, that’s the name of the new chateau. Oh, Monsieur Goefle, it was a great deal prettier than it is here! And there were so many people I didn’t feel at all afraid.”

“Very good, Master Nils! That magnificent palace, with its splendid company, its turmoil, torches, feasting and revelry, has turned your head for you, I’m afraid. For my part, it doesn’t suit my taste to spend the night at a ball, and wait until day for the chance of sharing a room with four or five young fools, intoxicated, and perhaps quarrelsome. I like to eat little, but often and quietly, to sleep only a few hours, but without being disturbed. Besides, I did not come here to amuse myself. I have important business to transact for the baron, and I must have my room, my table, my writing-desk, and a little silence. The baron is to blame, I must say, for allowing himself to forget, amid his festivities and entertainments, that I am no longer a young student, eager for music and dancing. He ought to have had this room prepared for me, or some other, in a quiet place, out of the reach of importunate visitors. When I saw the amazement of the servants at my arrival, and their inability to provide me with suitable quarters, it would have taken very little to make me return to Falun. But I was afraid of the snow-storm, and then Loki was too warm; I remembered, happily, that there was a haunted room at old Stollborg that every one was afraid of, and which, consequently, was never used. Here we are, and we are very well off. To-morrow, Nils, you must give a thorough dusting. I like neatness, for my part.”

“Yes, Monsieur Goefle, I will tell Ulph. I am not tall enough to reach so high.”

“So I see. Well, we will tell Ulph.”

“Why do they call this the bear-room, Monsieur Goefle?”

“It is a name like any other,” replied the lawyer, who was arranging his papers in the drawer of the table, and who did not think it worth while to explain the shield to master Nils.

Soon, however, he noticed that the child’s terror had redoubled.

“What is the matter?” he said impatiently. “You do nothing but follow me about, and don’t give me the least assistance.”

“I am afraid of the bear,” replied the courageous Nils. “At Falun you were speaking with the pastor about the great bear. I could understand.”

“I was speaking about the great bear! What do you mean? Oh yes, you are right! The pastor is something of an astronomer, and we were saying--take courage, my brave youth--we were talking about the great bear up in the sky.”

“Oh! the great bear is up in the sky!” cried Nils, recovering his spirits. “Then it is not here? It will not come into this room?”

“No,” said the lawyer, laughing; “it is too far away, too high up! If it should try to come down it would break its paws. Now, then, you are no longer afraid?”

“Oh no! I am not afraid now! But what if it should tumble down?”

“Bah! It is fastened firmly by seven large diamond nails!”

“Was it the good God who nailed it up there because it was so wicked?”

“Probably! Are you quite sure now that you are not afraid?”

“Oh yes!” said Nils, with a gesture of profound incredulity.

“Go and look for Ulph, then, and tell him--”

“But, M. Goefle, you spoke also about the Snow Man!”

“So we did! You listen to everything that is said, it seems. That is very agreeable.”

“Oh yes, monsieur!” replied Nils, ingenuously; “I listen to everything.”

“And what is the Snow Man, in your opinion?”

“I don’t know. The pastor whispered to you, laughing: ‘So you are going to see the Snow Man?’”

“He was talking, I suppose, about some mountain that has that name.”

“Oh, no indeed! For you said: ‘Does he walk as straight as ever?’ and the pastor said: ‘He is always hunting on his lake.’ Oh, I understand Swedish just as well as Dalecarlian!”

“And what do you think from that?”

“Oh, that there is a great tall snow man who walks on the lake we have just come over.”

“Exactly! And who is always followed by a great bear! You have some imagination, child! Is the bear white, or black?”

“I don’t know, Monsieur Goefle.”

“We ought to know about that, though, before deciding to take supper in this room. What if they should come and sit down at the table with us?”

Nils saw plainly that M. Goefle was joking, and he began to laugh. The lawyer was congratulating himself upon his method of curing children of fear, when the little fellow, who had suddenly become serious again, said:

“Monsieur Goefle, let us go away from here. This is a very ugly place.”

“This is too much!” cried the lawyer, pettishly. “What plagues children are! I am good enough to explain to my young gentleman that the bear is a constellation, and he is more frightened then ever.”

Nils, seeing that his master was angry, began to cry. He was a spoiled child, yet timid. M. Goefle, who was thoroughly good-hearted, imagined, and took pleasure in saying, that he did not like children, and that if anything could console him for not having married at a proper age, it was the intellectual freedom that is enjoyed by those who have no children to take care of and be responsible for. The keen sensibility with which he was endowed, however, which his stirring and active professional life had developed without his knowledge, made it impossible for him to endure the tears and complaints of the weak. Accordingly he tried to console and encourage his little valet, at the very same time that he was grumbling at his folly, and while persisting in his passion for intellectual and subtle discussions, a style of argument that gains cases when you are trying to persuade men, but which is almost sure to lose them when you are dealing with children. He even went so far as to promise that he would run the great bear through the body with his sword, if it should come to the door of the room, rather than allow it to enter.

M. Goefle excused himself the more readily for his absurd condescension, as he called it, because he found that a witty account of his evening at Stollborg, with which he proposed to entertain his friends at Gevala, was involuntarily taking form in his mind.

In the meanwhile Ulph did not return. That he would require some time to get up a supper in M. Stenson’s modest establishment, the lawyer was prepared to anticipate; but he did not bring back the light, and this was an unpardonable piece of forgetfulness.

The end of the candle was going out in the lantern, and the lawyer, who prided himself upon his white hands and irreproachable ruffles, dared not touch this villanous utensil to light himself about the room. He was obliged to submit to this disagreeable necessity, however, in order to go into the adjoining apartment; he wanted to search the closet, whose key Ulph had given him, and which he hoped might contain some provisions or pieces of candle. Nils followed, holding him softly by the flap of the coat.

These two rooms which M. Goefle proposed to occupy, were separated from each other by an unusually thick wall, and two solid doors. The lawyer was well acquainted with the locality, but it was so long since his business had required him to visit the interior of the building, that he had some difficulty in finding the first of the two doors. He looked for it opposite the outer entrance, and he was right; but instead of being on a straight line with it, it was a little to the left. Like the secret door that Cristiano had accidentally discovered under the staircase, and whose existence had never been suspected either by the doctor or Ulphilas, it was entirely concealed in the wainscot. There was no affectation of mystery, however, in this style of door, closing perfectly without any visible lock; this peculiarity was merely the result of very careful joinery work, which becomes almost an art in cold countries.