Ch. 16 - The Zäther Dale - Page 2

and even the ducks crept close up to the wet wall, sated with the wet.
The stable-man was cross, the girl still more so; it was difficult to
get them to bestir themselves: the steps were crooked, the floor
sloping and but just washed, sand strewn thickly on it, and the air
was damp and cold. But without, scarcely twenty paces from the inn, on
the other side of the road, lay the celebrated valley, a garden made
by nature herself, and whose charm consists of trees and bushes, wells
and purling brooks.

It was a long hollow; I saw the tops of the trees looming up, and the
rain drew its thick veil over it. The whole of that long evening did I
sit and look upon it during that shower of showers. It was as if the
Venern, the Vettern and a few more lakes ran through an immense sieve
from the clouds. I had ordered something to eat and drink, but I got
nothing. They ran up and they ran down; there was a hissing sound of
roasting by the hearth; the girls chattered, the men drank "sup,"[R]
strangers came, were shown into their rooms, and got both roast and
boiled. Several hours had passed, when I made a forcible appeal to the
girl, and she answered phlegmatically: "Why, Sir, you sit there and
write without stopping, so you cannot have time to eat."

[Footnote R: Swedish, _sup_. Danish, _snaps_. German, _schnaps_.
English, _drams_.]

It was a long evening, "but the evening passed!" It had become quite
still in the inn; all the travellers, except myself, had again
departed, certainly in order to find better quarters for the night at
Hedemore or Brunbeck. I had seen, through the half-open door into the
dirty tap-room, a couple of fellows playing with greasy cards; a huge
dog lay under the table and glared with its large red eyes; the
kitchen was deserted; the rooms too; the floor was wet, the storm
rattled, the rain beat against the windows--"and now to bed! said I."

I slept an hour, perhaps two, and was awakened by a loud bawling from
the high road. I started up: it was twilight, the night at that period
is not darker--it was about one o'clock. I heard the door shaken
roughly; a deep manly voice shouted aloud, and there was a hammering
with a cudgel against the planks of the yard-gate. Was it an
intoxicated or a mad man that was to be let in? The gate was now
opened, but many words were not exchanged. I heard a woman scream at
the top of her voice from terror. There was now a great bustling
about; they ran across the yard in wooden shoes; the bellowing of
cattle and the rough voices of men were mingled together. I sat on the
edge of the bed. Out or in! what was to be done? I looked from the
window; in the road there was nothing to be seen, and it still rained.