CHRISTIAN had abundance of leisure to travel. In spite of all the precautions taken by his friends, and notwithstanding M. Goefle’s incessant exertions, the recognition of his rights was so vehemently opposed by the caps, the party to which the Baron de Lindenwald belonged, that a moment came when the active and courageous lawyer regarded the cause of his client as lost. The Russian ambassador, who at first had been favorable, turned against them, no one knew why, and Countess Elveda formed other projects of marriage for her niece. M. Goefle appealed in person to the young king; but Gustavus III., who even then was planning, with incredible prudence, the grand revolution of August, 1772, advised patience, without giving any intimation of the hopes which he himself had conceived. In fact the king, as yet, could do nothing.
After travelling with the danneman until the end of February, Christian received news from M. Goefle which decided him to continue alone his explorations in the regions of the north. M. Goefle, finding that Christian’s enemies were very powerful, feared, with reason, that they would seek opportunities of quarrelling with him, if he should appear in Stockholm. He knew how excitable Christian was, and he said to himself that, even if he should kill one or two of his opponents, he would stand a good chance of being killed by the third. There were too many persons whose interest it was to irritate him, and draw him into duels. M. Goefle took good care not to explain to Christian the real grounds of his opinion, but he urged him not to count upon a speedy success, and advised him to remain away.
At the same time he sent him an additional sum, which Christian resolved not to add to the amount of the debt which he had already incurred. In his uncertain position he joined a crew of fishermen, who were about sailing for the Luffoden Islands; and, in the beginning of April, he wrote to M. Goefle as follows:
“Here I am in a small, straggling village of Nordland, where it seems to me that I have entered the land of Canaan, although the chalet of Danneman Bœtsoi is a Louvre in comparison with my present lodging, and his kakebroe delicious cake by the side of the bread of pure wood in which I am now luxuriating. You will guess from this that I have been through a great deal of suffering, without referring to our fatigue and dangers. But, on the other hand, I have seen the most terrible spectacles of the universe, the most austere and sublime scenes of nature: sub-marine gulfs, into which ships and whales are drawn like autumn leaves in a current of wind; rivers which never freeze, in the midst of ice that never melts; waterfalls whose roaring can be heard leagues away; precipices upon whose verge the reindeer and the elk grow dizzy; snows harder than the marble of Paros; men as ugly as monkeys—angelic souls in unclean bodies, a hospitable people dwelling in unheard-of misery—a patient, gentle and pious people living in eternal conflict with nature, who appears to them under her most formidable and violent aspect. I have had no disappointments. Everything that I have seen has been more sublime, or more astonishing, than all that I had imagined.
“So, then, I am a fortunate traveller. Add that my health has withstood all hardships, and that my purse is so well filled that I am in condition to pay off my debt to you, and still have money of my own; lastly, that I have succeeded in studying the geological formation of a long chain of mountains, from which I bring back treasures—in the way of rare and precious specimens—that will make the illustrious Professor Stangstadius pine away with envy, and useful observations that ought to make me—if I take it into my head to aspire to the honor, and exert a little diplomacy to obtain it—Knight of the Polar Star.
“You will ask me how I have grown rich so fast. By enduring a great deal of fatigue; by running the risk, a thousand times, of being drowned or of breaking my neck; by skating along the verge of fearful chasms, on great skates which I have learned to use; by catching a great many fish in the Norwegian archipelago; by selling my cargo on the spot, and very cheap, to those who have a genius for trade; and, lastly, by exposing myself to the danger of being beaten to death by my comrades for my pains. However, they gave up this fancy when they found out that my arm was ready and my hand heavy.
“Now I am going to Bergen, where I must arrive before the thaw, unless I want to be shut up here for six weeks by whirlwinds and avalanches, which man is not strong enough to conquer.
“Do not be distressed, O best of men and of friends! if I lose my suit. I shall make out to be something, and since Margaret is poor (as long as I am well-born), I may win her yet. And then, am I not secure of your friendship? I only ask of Heaven to enable me to take care of my dear Stenson in his feeble old age, if he should lose his annuity, and be driven from his asylum at Stollborg.”
M. Goefle received several other letters of the same sort during the following summer and winter. The lawsuit made no progress; in fact there was no suit, in any proper sense of the word. The presumptive heirs carried on the war in the most fatal and insidious way, by interposing constant obstacles, preventing or delaying the decision of the committee.
Christian, in the meanwhile, was beginning to be satiated with danger, fatigue, and hard work. He did not acknowledge it to his friend, but the exuberance of his curiosity was satisfied. His heart, which had been awakened to a new life by hopes that would perhaps prove deceitful, often claimed the happiness of which he had caught a glimpse. His heroic resolutions, and the cheerful energy of his character, were fully equal to the requirements of his terrible life, as he called it, but in silence, in the secrecy of his soul, he was often unhappy. The time had come when the bird, according to Major Larrson’s expression, fatigued with flying through the vastness of space, was longing to find a milder sky, and a sure place to build his nest.