There is no want of rays of light on earth; they penetrate its misty atmosphere in manifold directions, although human perception is not as much aware of them at one time as at another. The words of the Assessor made at this moment an indescribable impression on Petrea. She wept from the sweet emotion excited by the description of a condition which was so perfect, and of endeavours which were so holy. It appeared to her as if she knew her own vocation, her own path through life; one which would release her soul from all trifles, all vanities, all disquiets, and which would speed her on to light and peace. Whilst these thoughts, or rather sentiments, swelled in her breast, she looked through her tears on her companion, as he sate there with his expressive countenance and his large beautiful eyes fixed on the scene before him, and she saw in him, not Jeremias Munter, but a wise hermit, with a soul full of sublime and holy knowledge. She longed to throw herself at his feet, and beseech his blessing; to propose to him that he should remain in this solitude, in this hut, with her; that he should teach her wisdom; and she would wait upon him as a daughter, or as a servant, would rise with him and pray at sunrise, and do in all things like the Essenes. Thus would they die to the world, and live only for heaven.
Overpowered by her excited feelings, surrendered to the transports of the moment, and nearly choked with tears, Petrea sank on the breast of Jeremias, stammering forth her undefined wishes.
If a millstone had fallen round his neck, our good Assessor could not have been more confounded than he was at that moment. Deeply sunk in his own thoughts, he had quite forgotten that Petrea was there, till reminded of her presence in this unexpected manner. But he was a man, nevertheless, who could easily understand the excitement of mind in a young girl, and with a pure fervour of eye, whilst a good-humoured satire played about his mouth, he endeavoured to tranquillise her over-wrought feelings. Beautiful, then, was the discourse he held with her on all that which calms and sanctifies life; on all that on which man may found his abode whether in the desert or in the human crowd. He spoke words then which Petrea never forgot, and which often, in a future day, broke the chaotic state of her soul like beams of pure light.
In the mean time the tempest had dispersed itself, and the Assessor began to think of a return; for Petrea thought nothing about it, but would willingly have seen herself compelled to pass the night in the gloomy wood. But now the thought of relating her adventures at home attracted her, and before she got out of the wood these adventures were increased, since fate presented her with the good fortune of assisting, with the help of her companion, an old woman, who had fallen with her bundle of sticks, upon her legs again, and of carrying the said bundle to her cottage, and of lighting her fire for her; with releasing two sparrows which a boy had made captive; and, last of all, with releasing the Assessor himself from a thorn-bush, which, as it appeared, would have held him with such force as vexed even himself. Petrea's hands bled in consequence of this operation, but that only made her the livelier.
When they came out of the wood, the rain had ceased altogether, the wind had abated, and the setting sun illumined the heavens, and diffused over the landscape a peculiar and beautiful radiance. The countenance of Jeremias Munter was cheerful; he listened to the ascending song of the lark, and said, "That is beautiful!" He looked upon the rain-drops which hung on the young grass, and saw how heaven reflected itself in them, and smiled, and said, "That is pure indeed!" Petrea gave to little children that she met with all her savings from the feast at Axelholm, and would willingly also have given them some of her clothes, had she not had the fear of Louise and her mother before her eyes. She wished in her bravery for more adventures, and more particularly for a longer way than it at this time appeared to be; she thought she arrived at home too soon; but the Assessor thought not, neither did the rest of the party, who were beginning to be very uneasy on account of their long absence. In the mean time Petrea and her companion had become very good friends on the walk; Petrea was complimented for her courage, and Henrik pathetically declaimed in her praise—
Not every one such height as Xenophon can gain,
As scholar and as hero, a laurel-wreath obtain;
and they laughed.
FOOTNOTES:
[12] half-dramatic poem, remarkable for its wit and humour, from the pen of the Swedish poet Fahlcrantz.