FullReads

“That’s very pretty and suggestive,” said stork-papa.

“But it’s very little,” observed stork-mamma. “They could not possibly have done less.”

And when Helga saw them, she rose and came on to the verandah, to stroke the backs of the storks. The old pair waved their heads and bowed their necks, and even the youngest among the young ones felt highly honoured by the reception.

And Helga looked up to the gleaming star, which seemed to glow purer and purer; and between the star and herself there floated a form, purer than the air, and visible through it: it floated quite close to her. It was the spirit of the dead Christian priest; he too was coming to her wedding feast–coming from heaven.

“The glory and brightness yonder outshines everything that is known on earth!” he said.

And fair Helga begged so fervently, so beseechingly, as she had never yet prayed, that it might be permitted her to gaze in there for one single moment, that she might be allowed to cast but a single glance into the brightness that beamed in the kingdom.

Then he bore her up amid splendour and glory. Not only around her, but within her, sounded voices and beamed a brightness that words cannot express.

“Now we must go back; thou wilt be missed,” he said.

“Only one more look!” she begged. “But one short minute more!”

“We must go back to the earth. The guests will all depart.”

“Only one more look–the last.”

And Helga stood again in the verandah; but the marriage lights without had vanished, and the lamps in the hall were extinguished, and the storks were gone–nowhere a guest to be seen–no bridegroom–all seemed to have been swept away in those few short minutes!

Then a great dread came upon her. Alone she went through the empty great hall into the next chamber. Strange warriors slept yonder. She opened a side door which led into her own chamber; and, as she thought to step in there, she suddenly found herself in the garden; but yet it had not looked thus here before–the sky gleamed red–the morning dawn was come.

Three minutes only in heaven and a whole night on earth had passed away!

Then she saw the storks again. She called to them, spoke their language; and stork-papa turned his head towards her, listened to her words, and drew near.

“You speak our language,” he said; “what do you wish? Why do you appear here–you, a strange woman?”

“It is I–it is Helga–dost thou not know me? Three minutes ago we were speaking together yonder in the verandah!”

“That’s a mistake,” said the stork; “you must have dreamt all that!”

“No, no!” she persisted. And she reminded him of the Viking’s castle, and of the great ocean, and of the journey hither.

Then stork-papa winked with his eyes, and said:

“Why, that’s an old story, which I heard from the time of my great-grandfather. There certainly was here in Egypt a princess of that kind from the Danish land, but she vanished on the evening of her wedding-day, many hundred years ago, and never came back! You may read about it yourself yonder on the monument in the garden; there you’ll find swans and storks sculptured, and at the top you are yourself in white marble!”

And thus it was. Helga saw it, and understood it, and sank on her knees.

The sun burst forth in glory; and as, in time of yore, the frog-shape had vanished in its beams, and the beautiful form had stood displayed, so now in the light a beauteous form, clearer, purer than air–a beam of brightness–flew up into heaven!

The body crumbled to dust; and a faded lotos-flower lay on the spot where Helga had stood.

* * * * *

“Well, that’s a new ending to the story,” said stork-papa. “I had certainly not expected it. But I like it very well.”

“But what will the young ones say to it?” said stork-mamma.

“Yes, certainly, that’s the important point,” replied he.