He put down his pipe, though it was only half-smoked, but remained quietly seated in the one spot. For what else could he do? This was not something which he could ward off—something he could run away from. One could not take up arms and defend one's self against it, nor find safety by creeping into cellars or caves. Even if one had the power to empty all the oceans and lakes, their waters would not suffice to quench the fires of the firmament. If one could uproot the mountains and prop them, beam-like, against the sky, they could not hold up this heavy dome if it was meant that it should sink.
Singularly enough no one but himself seemed to be aware of what was happening.
Ah, look! What was that that went shooting up above the crest of the hill over yonder? A lot of black specks suddenly appeared in among the pale smoke clouds. These specks whirled round each other with such rapidity that to Jan's eyes they looked like a succession of streaks moving in much the same way as when bees swarm.
They were birds of course. The strange part of it was that they had risen in the night and soared into the clouds.
They probably knew more than the human kind, thought Jan, for they had sensed that something was about to happen.
Instead of the air becoming cooler, as on other nights, it grew warmer and warmer. Anything else was hardly to be expected, with the fiery dome coming nearer and nearer. Jan thought it had already sunk to the brow of Great Peak.
But if the end of the world was so close at hand and there was no hope of his getting any word from Glory Goldie, much less of his seeing her, before all was over, then he would pray for but a single grace—that it might be made clear to him what he had done to offend her, so that he could repent of it before the end of everything pertaining to the earth life. What had he done that she could not forgive nor forget? Why had the crown and sceptre been taken away from him?
As he put these queries to himself his glance fell upon a bit of gilt paper that lay glittering on the ground in front of him. But his mind was not on such things now. This must have been one of the paper stars he had borrowed of Mad Ingeborg. But he had not given a thought to this empty show since last autumn.
It kept getting hotter and hotter, and it was becoming more and more difficult to breathe. "The end is nearing," thought Jan. "Maybe it's just as well it wasn't too long coming."
A great sense of lassitude came over him. Unable to sit up any longer, he slipped down off the stone and stretched himself out on the ground. He felt it was hardly fair to Katrina not to let her know what was taking place. But Katrina had gone to the seine-maker's party and was not back yet. If he only had the strength to drag himself thither! He would have liked to say a word of farewell to Ol' Bengtsa, too. He was very glad when he presently saw Katrina coming down the lane, accompanied by the seine-maker. He wanted to call out to them to hurry, but not a sound could he get past his lips. Shortly afterward the two of them stood bending over him.