Here the maid came in with the plates to set the table. Freneli noticed it and stood up to go, although the hostess told them not to hurry, or, better still, to have supper with them. But Freneli said they must go or her aunt would think something had happened, thanked the pastor and asked him to promise that he would come to see them, although they were only leaseholders. They could always give them a cup of coffee, if they would be satisfied with that. Her heart always rejoiced to see him, even from a distance. Wishing them happiness and blessing in the holy state of matrimony, the pastor himself lighted them out with candle held high, and bade them to wish good evening to aunt and uncle for him. * * *
Nearer, and nearer came the fateful wedding-day. As on the day before some holy Sunday, when solemn feelings almost irresistibly make their way into the heart, almost as on the eve of her confirmation, so Freneli felt on the eve of her wedding. Thoughtfully and seriously she did her housework; perhaps she had never spoken so little as on that day. At times she felt like weeping, and still she had a friendly smile for all she met. Then again she would sink into deep reflection, in which she forgot place and time and everything; she knew nothing of herself, nothing of this brooding. Then when some one spoke to her, she would start up as out of deep sleep; it seemed to her as if she had only just recovered her eyes and ears, as if she were falling back upon the earth from another world.
As they were sitting at supper, such an unexpected crash was heard on the hill near the house that all started up. It was the men and some of the day-laborers, who wished to proclaim to the world the glory of their new masters. There lies hidden in this shooting and banging at weddings a deep significance; the only pity is that so many a human life is endangered by it. No hateful horn-blowing was heard; no horrible serenades, such as envy or enmity offer to bridal couples, disturbed the peaceful evening. * * *
Uli had a bad night. As they wanted to start at three in the morning the hours for sleep were few, but it seemed as if they would not pass. He could not sleep; many things busied his thoughts and tossed him restlessly back and forth, and every thirty seconds he reached for his watch. The whole importance of what he was now to become rolled itself upon his soul with its entire weight. Then again lovely pictures danced before his closed eyes. [Illustration: FIRST DANCING LESSONS From the Painting by Benjamin Vautier] The spirit-hour was not long past when he left his bed, in order to give the horse his fodder and to brush and curry him thoroughly. When he had finished this work he went to the well and began a similar task on himself. Then playful hands enfolded him and Freneli brought him her loving morning salute. A glad hope had drawn her to the well, and they lingered to caress each other in the cold morning air as if mild evening zephyrs were blowing. All anxiety and oppression forsook him now, and he hastened the preparations for their departure. Soon he could go into the house for the hot coffee which Freneli had made and for the white bread and cheese her aunt had provided. Little peace did the girl have at the table, for the fear of having forgotten something would not let her rest; again and again she looked over the bundle of her belongings, and even then her aunt's fur-lined shoes were nearly left behind. At last she stood there all in readiness, sweet and beautiful. The two maids, whom curiosity had drawn from their beds, encircled her with their lights, and were so absorbed in admiration that they forgot that oil makes spots and that fire kindles; a little more and Freneli, soaked in oil, would have gone up in flame. Alas, in the fleshy bosoms of the poor maids heaved the yearning: Oh, if they once had such pretty clothes, they would be as pretty as Freneli; and then they too could ride off to be married to such a handsome man!
Long before three o'clock they drove out into the cold, frosty morning. Amid question and answer the flickering stars paled and sought their sky-blue beds, and the good mother sun began to weave golden curtains about them out of sparkling rays of light, so that their chaste retirement, their innocent sleep, might not be sullied by the eyes of curious sinners. Jack Frost shook his curls more mightily; driven by the sun from the little stars to the dark bosom of the earth, away from his heavenly sweethearts, he tried to caress earthly ones, wanted to embrace Freneli and put his cold arms about the warm girl; his white breath was already playing in the tips of her cap. The girl shivered and begged Uli to take refuge just a moment in a warm room; she was shaking through and through, and they would reach their destination soon enough.
It was one of the good old taverns whose proprietors do not change every year, but where one generation succeeds the other. The innkeepers, who were just sitting at their coffee as the bridal couple entered, recognized Uli at once. Now a very friendly salutation, and the couple must sit down and celebrate with them, whether or no. They were told not to make a fuss about it, everything was ready, and nothing was more grateful on such a cold morning than a cup of hot coffee. Freneli acted somewhat bash-fully, for it seemed bold of her to sit down with them as if that was her home. But the hostess urged her until she sat down, surveyed her, and began to praise her to Uli, remarking what a pretty wife he had; there hadn't been a prettier one there this long time. She was glad he was doing so well; they had all been sorry when he went away; one always liked to see a friend get along well. Not that there weren't folks that couldn't bear to see it, but there weren't many such.
Uli asked whether she thought the pastor was up; he would go to him first. He surely would be, they thought, especially on a Friday, when folks usually came. Not that he was one of the earliest risers usually, for he liked to lie abed; but he was getting old and so that could be excused. But he had had a vicar during the winter, and he had never been in sight before eight; everybody had been vexed that they had to have such a lazy vicar. Here Uli asked whether it was customary to take the bride along. No, they said; folks seldom waited in the parsonage. Afterward a good many went back together to get the certificate. But the bashful ones, or those that thought the pastor would have cause to say something to them, would come right back to the inn, and only the lads would go for the certificate. After Freneli had declined to go along and had bidden Uli to let his master know and send word to have his master and mistress come, he set out.
In his handsome dress and in the dark room the old pastor did not at first recognize him, but then was heartily rejoiced. "I heard," he said, "that you were doing well, were to get a fine lease and a good wife, and had saved a tidy sum. It gives me great joy to bless a marriage that I can hope will remain in the Lord. That you have saved something is not the chief thing; but you wouldn't have it, and people wouldn't have had so much confidence in you, if you were not honest and God-fearing, and that's what pleases me most of all. The things of the world and the things of the spirit are much closer to each other than most people believe. They think that in order to get along well in the world, you've got to hang up your Christianity on a nail. But it's just the reverse; that's what causes the everlasting complaint in the world; that's why most men make their beds so that they have to lie on nettles. Ask yourself if you would be as happy now if you had stayed a vagabond, despised by all. What do you think—what sort of a wedding would you have had? Just imagine what kind of a wife you would have got, and the prospects you would have had, and what people would have said when they saw you going to be married, and then see how it is today; reckon up the enormous difference. Or what do you think about it? Is blind fortune, accident, so-called luck, back of it all? Folks are always saying: 'I don't have any luck; you just can't do anything nowadays.' What do you think, Uli? Is it only luck? Would you have had this luck if you had stayed a vagabond? But the misfortune is just that people want to be happy through luck and not by God-fearing lives on which God's blessing rests. And so it's quite fitting that those who are only waiting for luck should be deceived by it, until they come to the knowledge that nothing depends on luck, but everything on the blessing of God."
"Yes, Your Reverence," said Uli, "I can't tell you how much happier I am now than when I was one of the rabble that run around the streets. But something depends on luck, too; for if I hadn't come to such a good master no good would have come of me."
"Uli, Uli," said the pastor, "was that luck or God's decree?"