hewishedtogoalittlewaypastthesand-hills,outintothedunes,andatlasthedid:fourhappydays,thebrightestofhischildhood,felltohislot,andthewholebeautyandsplendourofjutland,allthehappinessandsunshineofhishome,wereconcentratedinthese.hewenttoafestival,butitwasaburialfeast.

arichrelationofthefisherman'sfamilyhaddied;thefarmwassituatedfareastwardinthecountryandalittletowardsthenorth.jurgen'sfosterparentswentthere,andhealsowentwiththemfromthedunes,overheathandmoor,wheretheskjaerumaatakesitscoursethroughgreenmeadowsandcontainsmanyeels;mothereelslivetherewiththeirdaughters,whoarecaughtandeatenupbywickedpeople.butdonotmensometimesactquiteascruellytowardstheirownfellow-men?wasnottheknightsirbuggemurderedbywickedpeople?andthoughhewaswellspokenof,didhenotalsowishtokillthearchitectwhobuiltthecastleforhim,withitsthickwallsandtower,atthepointwheretheskjaerumaafallsintothebay?jurgenandhisparentsnowstoodthere;thewallandtherampartsstillremained,andredcrumblingfragmentslayscatteredaround.hereitwasthatsirbugge,afterthearchitecthadlefthim,saidtooneofhismen,"goafterhimandsay,'master,thetowershakes.'ifheturnsround,killhimandtakeawaythemoneyipaidhim,butifhedoesnotturnroundlethimgoinpeace."themandidashewastold;thearchitectdidnotturnround,butcalledback"thetowerdoesnotshakeintheleast,butonedayamanwillcomefromthewestinabluecloak-hewillcauseittoshake!"andsoindeedithappenedahundredyearslater,forthenorthseabrokeinandcastdownthetower;butpredbjorngyldenstjerne,themanwhothenpossessedthecastle,builtanewcastlehigherupattheendofthemeadow,andthatoneisstandingtothisday,andiscallednorre-vosborg.

jurgenandhisfosterparentswentpastthiscastle.theyhadtoldhimitsstoryduringthelongwinterevenings,andnowhesawthestatelyedifice,withitsdoublemoat,andtreesandbushes;thewall,coveredwithferns,rosewithinthemoat,buttheloftylime-treeswerethemostbeautifulofall;theygrewuptothehighestwindows,andtheairwasfulloftheirsweetfragrance.inanorth-westcornerofthegardenstoodagreatbushfullofblossom,likewintersnowamidthesummer'sgreen;itwasajuniperbush,thefirstthatjurgenhadeverseeninbloom.heneverforgotit,northelime-trees;thechild'ssoultreasuredupthesememoriesofbeautyandfragrancetogladdentheoldman.

fromnorre-vosborg,wherethejuniperblossomed,thejourneybecamemorepleasant,fortheymetsomeotherpeoplewhowerealsogoingtothefuneralandwereridinginwaggons.ourtravellershadtositalltogetheronalittleboxatthebackofthewaggon,buteventhis,theythought,wasbetterthanwalking.sotheycontinuedtheirjourneyacrosstheruggedheath.theoxenwhichdrewthewaggonstoppedeverynowandthen,whereapatchoffreshgrassappearedamidtheheather.thesunshonewithconsiderableheat,anditwaswonderfultobeholdhowinthefardistancesomethinglikesmokeseemedtoberising;yetthissmokewasclearerthantheair;itwastransparent,andlookedlikeraysoflightrollinganddancingafarovertheheath.

"thatislokemandrivinghissheep,"saidsomeone.

andthiswasenoughtoexcitejurgen'simagination.hefeltasiftheywerenowabouttoenterfairyland,thougheverythingwasstillreal.howquietitwas!