'Is it now your excellency's pleasure,' said the pastor to the governor, 'to ascend the church tower and thence, like Charles XI, observe the circular course of the day-star?'
'I thank you, sir pastor,' answered the governor. 'I have already looked me out a place upon the level ground, where we can better enjoy the beauties of nature together with this rare spectacle, than from so high a point of view, and you will do me a pleasure by accompanying us.'
The pastor accepted the invitation. The party left the church, and, without encountering Megret on their way, entered a boat in readiness for the occasion, and were conveyed to a small island which appeared to swim in the stream, opposite the town of Tornea. A solitary house, surrounded by some small huts, and a wind-mill, stood near the landing-place. The travelers, ascending, laid themselves upon the bank, their faces turned towards the sun, and silently enjoyed the view, at once attractive and awful, there presented to them.
The still, clear waters of the Tornea and Munio, upon which white fishing sails were gliding here and there, blushed in the rays of the evening sun, and were adorned on either side by high bushy banks. In the middle ground, the city, with its spires, was sweetly reflected in the peaceful waters. The back ground was closed by bare and sterile heights which were linked into each other like a chain, and concealed the opening through which the united streams rolled on in their course toward the sea.
At the edge of the horizon, behind the city, shone the nocturnal sun with rays that with difficulty dissipated the vapors collected by the evening air, as the forerunners of a night, which, on this occasion, was not permitted to make its appearance. The illumination had something dismal about it, for the magnificent sphere seemed to have lost the substance of its splendor as at the time of an annular eclipse, and threw, but a pale light upon land and water. The silence of death prevailed over the face of all nature. The mills upon the height behind Tornea, as well as that upon the island, were standing still,--the bewildered birds had flown to their roosts,--and the whole less resembled an actual world, than a landscape in a magic glass, lighted by a magic sun, which lacked the powerful life of nature. Meanwhile Tornea's church bell tolled the midnight hour.
'Great and wonderful are the works of the Lord!' suddenly exclaimed the devout pastor; 'and he, who considers them aright, has great pleasure therein.'
'I also adore the great Creator in the exhibition of his terrors,' said Arwed. 'But I must acknowledge that the silent, friendly, and dusky star-lit night of my own Upland, is dearer to me than this wonderful day. A sun which seems always to approach its setting, and yet never sets, but remains mournfully suspended between life and death, is in truth no joyous sight.'
'An image of my poor native country!' said the governor, soliloquising.
'And of my fate!' whispered Christine, almost inaudibly, as she leaned her weeping face upon Arwed's shoulder.
At this moment a row-boat from Tornea approached the island. Megret sprang out of it. 'Despatches from Umea!' cried he. 'The courier appeared to come in great haste; wherefore I took it upon myself to bring them directly to you.'