Yonder in the inn there was an unusual commotion. A couple of traveling men had ordered roast hare. The landlord had gone to an auction at Thisted, and his wife was used only to the responsibilities of her kitchen. Now it happened unfortunately that the Advocate would speak with the host on business, and because he was not at home the good woman must listen to a long speech and take charge of an important letter, a proceeding that sadly disturbed her composure. A stranger, who was waiting for a bottle of soda water, stood by the stove in greasy sailor clothes. Two fish pedlers had three times ordered brandy for their coffee. The stable boy stood with an empty lantern and waited for a candle, and a tall, rough farmer followed Karen with longing eyes—she owed him change for a crown he had just given her. Karen came and went without haste, without error. One would hardly imagine she could attend to so many things at once. The great eyes and the high arched brows were full of wonder and expectation. The fine little head was held straight and still. If she would make no mistakes she must keep her thoughts collected. Her blue woolen dress was too small for her. The tight neckband wrinkled her flesh just under the hair. “The maiden from Agger has a white skin,” said one fish pedler to the other. They were young people and spoke of Karen as connoisseurs.
Some one stood near the window, and looking at the clock said: “The post is early to-night.” It rattled over the pavement, the doors were thrown open, and the wind blew the smoke from the stove. Karen entered from the kitchen just as the conductor stepped into the door and greeted the company with a hearty “Good evening!” He was a tall, handsome man, with dark eyes, a crisp brown beard framed his face, and curly brown hair covered his small head. His long heavy mantle of beautiful red royal Danish cloth was trimmed with black fur, and hung from his shoulders. The entire light of the two dim paraffin lamps that were suspended from the wall over the table centred itself on this spot of glorious crimson, as if it loved it, and left all the black and gray of the room to grow still grayer and blacker. And the tall figure with the fine, dark curly head, the long folds of the crimson cloak shone like a very marvel of splendor and color.
Karen came in quickly from the kitchen with her waiter. She bent her head so no one could see her face, as she hastened from one guest to the other. She set the roast hare before the fish pedlers, and brought the commercial traveler, who sat in an adjacent room, the bottle of soda water. She gave the anxious farmer a tallow candle, and, slipping to the stranger by the stove, she thrust the change from the crown in his hand.
The hostess was in the deepest despair. Everything had gone wrong in her kitchen. She had lost the advocate’s letter, and boundless confusion filled the inn. The traveler pounded the table with the bell loudly; the fish pedlers laughed until they were half dead over the hares spread before them; the bewildered farmer tapped the landlady on the shoulder with the candle and puffed himself out like a turkey cock.
And amid all this maddening confusion Karen had disappeared. The postilion Anders sat on the driver’s seat; the stable boy stood ready to open the door; the travelers in the mail coach were impatient and so were the horses, although they had nothing pleasant to look forward to, and the wind still rattled and whistled through the stable. At last the conductor, whom they all awaited, came. He carried his mantle over his arm as he stepped into the coach and excused his delay with a few curt words. He laughed to himself as he drew his cloak about him and took his seat. The door was closed; the mail coach rolled on. Anders let the horses trot gently, now there was no more need of haste. From time to time he glanced slyly at the conductor, who still laughed to himself, while the wind ruffled his hair. The postilion laughed, too. He suspected something. The wind followed the coach to a turn in the road, then threw itself again over the plain and sighed mysteriously through the heather bushes.
The fox lay at his post. All was ready now, the hare must soon come. Yonder at the inn harmony was restored, the anxious farmer was relieved of his candle, and received his change, and the travelers consumed their hare. The hostess complained a little, but she did not blame Karen. No one in all the world had ever scolded Karen. Quietly, unconsciously she hastened from one to the other, and the serene satisfaction that always followed her footsteps spread through the cozy half-dark inn parlor.
The two fish peddlers that had ordered a second cup of cognac and coffee, to follow the first, were specially pleased with her. A soft pink flush rested on her pale cheek, the glimmer of a smile on her lip, and once when she raised her eyes their light was dazzling. When she felt the men’s eyes followed her she went into the next room where the travelers sat, pretending that she wanted some teaspoons from the cupboard. “Did you notice the conductor?” asked one of them.
“No; not till he went out. He left very quickly,” answered the other with his mouth full of roast hare.
“A devilish handsome fellow. I attended his wedding.”
“So, is he married?”