Here the unfortunate widow hid her face with both her hands, and wept bitterly, while horror and distress filled my heart.
After a pause, she continued:--'As you may believe, there were sad lamentations and great wretchedness both at our house and at Esben's; but what is done cannot be undone. When the dead body was carried to the parents, they thought at first that it had been brought from Holstein--and, oh, what a crying and a screeching there was! It was enough to bring the house down about their ears. No wonder, too, for Esben was a fine young man, well to do--and just when he had come into a fine property and so much money, that he must die in the flower of his youth, and by the hand of her he loved. My worthy Michel could never get over that; he never held up his head again. In the course of a short time he became seriously ill, and then our Lord took him from me.
'The self-same day that he was buried, Cecilia fell into a deep sleep, and slept for many, many hours on a stretch. When she awoke, her reason had returned. I was sitting by her bed, and praying that the Almighty would release her, when suddenly, as she lay there, she heaved a deep, deep sigh, and casting her eyes on me, said, "Are you there? Where have I been? It seems to me that I have had a most extraordinary dream. I fancied I was in heaven, and Esben was there with me. Speak, mother; tell me, for God's sake, where is Esben? Have you heard nothing from him since he went to Holstein?" I hardly knew what I could answer, but I said, "No, we have no news from him." She sighed. "Where is my father?" she then asked. "All is well with your father," I replied; "God has taken him to himself." She began to weep. "Ah, mother, let me see him!" she entreated. "That is impossible, my child," I said, "for he is in his grave." "God preserve me!" she exclaimed. "How long, then, have I slept?" By this exclamation I perceived that she had no idea of the state that she had been in. "Why did you not wake me, mother?" she asked; "had you nothing for me to do? Oh! how sweetly I have been sleeping, and what delightful dreams I have had. Esben came every evening and visited me; but it was rather odd that he had on a shining white dress, and a red necklace round his neck.'"
At this part of her story the old woman fell into deep thought, and it was not until after she had heaved many heavy sighs, that she continued her narration.
'My unfortunate child had recovered her reason, but God only knows if it was better for her. She was generally cheerful, but never got into high spirits; she spoke little, except when she was spoken to: worked very diligently, and was neither positively ill nor positively well in health. The news of her restoration to her senses spread rapidly in the neighbourhood, and, about three months after, came Mads Egelund a second time as her suitor. But she would have nothing to say to him whatsoever. When he was at length convinced that she could not endure him, he became much enraged, and did sad mischief. I, and all our neighbours, and everyone who came here, agreed that we should never drop the slightest hint to Cecilia that she herself, during her insanity, had murdered the unfortunate Esben, and she imagined that he was either married, or had died in the south.
'One day that Mads was here, and was urging her vehemently to say "Yes" to him, and that she declared she would rather die than marry him, he said plainly out, that he was, after all, too good for one who had cut the throat of her first lover; and thereupon he maliciously poured forth all that had happened. I was in the kitchen, and only caught part of what he was saying. I instantly left what I was about, rushed in, and cried to him, "Mads, Mads! for God's sake, what is that you are saying?" But it was too late; there she sat, as white as a plastered wall, and her eyes stood fixed in her head.
'"What am I saying?" retorted Mads; "I am saying nothing but the truth. It is better for her to know that, than to treat her like a fool, and let her be waiting for a dead man the whole of her life."
'He left us; but her reason had fled again, never more to return in this mortal life. You see yourself in what state she is; at all hours, when she is not sleeping, she is singing that song, which she herself composed when Esben went to Holstein, and she fancies that she is spinning linen for her house when married. But she is quiet enough, Heaven be praised! and does not attempt to harm the meanest creature that lives; however, we dare not lose sight of her for a moment. May God take pity upon us, and soon call us both away!'
As she uttered these last words, the unfortunate girl entered with her keeper.
'No,' said she, 'to-day he is not to be seen--but we shall surely have him to-morrow. I must make haste, or I shall not have finished this linen.' She placed herself hurriedly upon her low straw chair, and with her hands and feet in rapid, yet mimic action, she recommenced her mournful ditty.