"But that brings the superstition down to quite recent time," said Hardy.
"I have already told you that these superstitions yet live in the hearts of the people; they do not confess them openly, but they do exist here and there."
"What is the superstition about the Kirkegrim?" asked Hardy.
"The Kirkegrim," replied the Pastor, "is a spirit or gnome that inhabits the church, and revenges any injury to it or the churchyard. That is all; there are no stories about it, beyond what I have related, that I know of."
"It is, in fact, a spiritual churchwarden," said Hardy, "after our English notions. It is to be regretted we have not them in England."
"I think, little father, you have talked a long time, and you are tired," said Frøken Helga.
"You are right, Frøken," said Hardy. "Thank you, Herr Pastor, for a series of interesting legends. I can only say how sorry I am that I must go to England shortly. My mother wishes to have me at home, as she is lonely without me, and I cannot bear she should be so any longer."
"And when, Herr Hardy, do you propose to leave?" inquired Helga.
"In about a week, Frøken," replied Hardy, to whom he thought it appeared a matter of indifference whether he went or stayed.
"My father will miss you much, and so shall we all," said Helga. "You have been good and kind, and there has nothing happened about you that we have not liked."