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found dead； with his throat cut。 One of the fishermen； late on the
previous evening； had met Jurgen going towards Martin's house； this
was not the first time Jurgen had raised his knife against Martin；
so they felt sure that he was the murderer。 The prison was in a town
at a great distance； and the wind was contrary for going there by sea；
but it would not take half an hour to get across the bay； and
another quarter of an hour would bring them to Norre…Vosborg； the
great castle with ramparts and moat。 One of Jurgen's captors was a
fisherman； a brother of the keeper of the castle； and he said it might
be managed that Jurgen should be placed for the present in the dungeon
at Vosborg； where Long Martha the gipsy had been shut up till her
execution。 They paid no attention to Jurgen's defence； the few drops
of blood on his shirt…sleeve bore heavy witness against him。 But he
was conscious of his innocence； and as there was no chance of clearing
himself at present he submitted to his fate。
The party landed just at the place where Sir Bugge's castle had
stood； and where Jurgen had walked with his foster…parents after the
burial feast； during。 the four happiest days of his childhood。 He
was led by the well…known path； over the meadow to Vosborg； once
more the elders were in bloom and the lofty lime…trees gave forth
sweet fragrance； and it seemed as if it were but yesterday that he had
last seen the spot。 In each of the two wings of the castle there was a
staircase which led to a place below the entrance； from whence there
is access to a low； vaulted cellar。 In this dungeon Long Martha had
been imprisoned； and from here she was led away to the scaffold。 She
had eaten the hearts of five children； and had imagined that if she
could obtain two more she would be able to fly and make herself
invisible。 In the middle of the roof of the cellar there was a
little narrow air…hole； but no window。 The flowering lime trees
could not breathe refreshing fragrance into that abode； where
everything was dark and mouldy。 There was only a rough bench in the
cell； but a good conscience is a soft pillow； and therefore Jurgen
could sleep well。
The thick oaken door was locked； and secured on the outside by
an iron bar； but the goblin of superstition can creep through a
keyhole into a baron's castle just as easily as it can into a
fisherman's cottage； and why should he not creep in here； where Jurgen
sat thinking of Long Martha and her wicked deeds？ Her last thoughts on
the night before her execution had filled this place； and the magic
that tradition asserted to have been practised here； in Sir
Svanwedel's time； came into Jurgen's mind； and made him shudder； but a
sunbeam； a refreshing thought from without； penetrated his heart
even here… it was the remembrance of the flowering elder and the sweet
smelling lime…trees。
He was not left there long。 They took him away to the town of
Ringkjobing； where he was imprisoned with equal severity。
Those times were not like ours。 The common people were treated
harshly； and it was just after the days when farms were converted into
knights' estates； when coachmen and servants were often made
magistrates； and had power to sentence a poor man； for a small
offence； to lose his property and to corporeal punishment。 Judges of
this kind were still to be found； and in Jutland； so far from the
capital； and from the enlightened； well…meaning； head of the
Government； the law was still very loosely administered sometimes… the
smallest grievance Jurgen could expect was that his case should be
delayed。
His dwelling was cold and comfortless； and how long would he be
obliged to bear all this？ It seemed his fate to suffer misfortune
and sorrow innocently。 He now had plenty of time to reflect on the
difference of fortune on earth； and to wonder why this fate had been
allotted to him； yet he felt sure that all would be made clear in
the next life； the existence that awaits us when this life is over。
His faith had grown strong in the poor fisherman's cottage； the
light which had never shone into his father's mind； in all the
richness and sunshine of Spain； was sent to him to be his comfort in
poverty and distress； a sign of that mercy of God which never fails。
The spring storms began to blow。 The rolling and moaning of the
North Sea could be heard for miles inland when the wind was blowing；
and then it sounded like the rushing of a thousand waggons over a hard
road with a mine underneath。 Jurgen heard these sounds in his
prison； and it was a relief to him。 No music could have touched his
heart as did these sounds of the sea… the rolling sea； the boundless
sea； on which a man can be borne across the world before the wind；
carrying his own house with him wherever he goes； just as the snail
carries its home even into a strange country。
He listened eagerly to its deep murmur and then the thought arose…
〃Free！ free！ How happy to be free； even barefooted and in ragged
clothes！〃 Sometimes； when such thoughts crossed his mind； the fiery
nature rose within him； and he beat the wall with his clenched fists。
Weeks； months； a whole year had gone by； when Niels the thief；
called also a horse…dealer； was arrested； and now better times came；
and it was seen that Jurgen had been wrongly accused。
On the afternoon before Jurgen's departure from home； and before
the murder； Niels the thief； had met Martin at a beer…house in the
neighbourhood of Ringkjobing。 A few glasses were drank； not enough
to cloud the brain； but enough to loosen Martin's tongue。 He began
to boast and to say that he had obtained a house and intended to
marry； and when Niels asked him where he was going to get the money；
he slapped his pocket proudly and said：
〃The money is here； where it ought to be。〃
This boast cost him his life； for when he went home Niels followed
him； and cut his throat； intending to rob the murdered man of the
gold； which did not exist。
All this was circumstantially explained； but it is enough for us
to know that Jurgen was set free。 But what compensation did he get for
having been imprisoned a whole year； and shut out from all
communication with his fellow creatures？ They told him he was
fortunate in being proved innocent； and that he might go。 The
burgomaster gave him two dollars for travelling expenses； and many
citizens offered him provisions and beer… there were still good
people； they were not all hard and pitiless。 But the best thing of all
was that the merchant Bronne； of Skjagen； into whose service Jurgen
had proposed entering the year before； was just at that time on
business in the town of Ringkjobing。 Bronne heard the whole story；
he was kind…hearted； and understood what Jurgen must have felt and
suffered。 Therefore he made up his mind to make it up to the poor lad；
and convince him that there were still kind folks in the world。
So Jurgen went forth from prison as if to paradise； to find
freedom； affection； and trust。 He was to travel this path now； for
no goblet of life is all bitterness； no good man would pour out such a
draught for his fellow…man； and how should He do it； Who is love
personified？
〃Let everything be buried and forgotten；〃 said Bronne； the
merchant。 〃Let us draw a thick line through last year： we will even
burn the almanack。 In two days we will start for dear； friendly；
peaceful Skjagen。 People call it an out…of…the…way corner； but it is a
good warm chimney…corner； and its windows open toward every part of
the world。〃
What a journey that was： It was like taking fresh breath out of
the cold dungeon air into the warm sunshine。 The heather bloomed in
pride and beauty； and the shepherd…boy sat on a barrow and blew his
pipe； which he had carved for himself out of a sheep bone。 Fata
Morgana； the beautiful aerial phenomenon of the wilderness； appeared
with hanging gardens and waving forests； and the wonderful cloud
called 〃Lokeman driving his sheep〃 also was seen。
Up towards Skjagen they went； through the land of the Wendels；
whence the men with long beards （the Longobardi or Lombards） had
emigrated in the reign of King Snio； when all the children and old
people were to have been killed； till the noble Dame Gambaruk proposed
that the young people should emigrate。 Jurgen knew all this； he had
some little knowledge； and although he did not know the land of the
Lombards beyond the lofty Alps； he had an idea that it must be
there； for in his boyhood he had been in the south； in Spain。 He
thought of the plenteousness of the southern fruit； of the red
pomegranate flowers； of the humming； buzzing； and toiling in the great
beehive of a city he had seen； but home is the best place after all；
and Jurgen's home was Denmark。
At last they arrived at 〃Vendilskaga；〃 as Skjagen is called in old
Norwegian and Icelandic writings。 At that time Old Skjagen； with the
eastern and western town； extended for miles； with sand hills and
arable land as far as the lighthouse near 〃Grenen。〃 Then； as now；
the houses were strewn among the wind…r