"Poor girl!" continued the old man, "her parents bequeathed to her that fatal exaltation of soul which misleads mystics and renders them all more or less mad.She subjects herself to fasts which horrify poor David.The good old man is like a sensitive plant which quivers at the slightest breeze, and glows under the first sun-ray.His mistress, whose incomprehensible language has become his, is the breeze and the sun-ray to him; in his eyes her feet are diamonds and her brow is strewn with stars; she walks environed with a white and luminous atmosphere; her voice is accompanied by music; she has the gift of rendering herself invisible.If you ask to see her, he will tell you she has gone to the ASTRAL REGIONS.It is difficult to believe such a story, is it not? You know all miracles bear more or less resemblance to the story of the Golden Tooth.We have our golden tooth in Jarvis, that is all.Duncker the fisherman asserts that he has seen her plunge into the fiord and come up in the shape of an eider-duck, at other times walking on the billows of a storm.Fergus, who leads the flocks to the saeters, says that in rainy weather a circle of clear sky can be seen over the Swedish castle; and that the heavens are always blue above Seraphita's head when she is on the mountain.Many women hear the tones of a mighty organ when Seraphita enters the church, and ask their neighbors earnestly if they too do not hear them.But my daughter, for whom during the last two years Seraphita has shown much affection, has never heard this music, and has never perceived the heavenly perfumes which, they say, make the air fragrant about her when she moves.Minna, to be sure, has often on returning from their walks together expressed to me the delight of a young girl in the beauties of our spring-time, in the spicy odors of budding larches and pines and the earliest flowers; but after our long winters what can be more natural than such pleasure? The companionship of this so-called spirit has nothing so very extraordinary in it, has it, my child?""The secrets of that spirit are not mine," said Minna."Near it I know all, away from it I know nothing; near that exquisite life I am no longer myself, far from it I forget all.The time we pass together is a dream which my memory scarcely retains.I may have heard yet not remember the music which the women tell of; in that presence, I may have breathed celestial perfumes, seen the glory of the heavens, and yet be unable to recollect them here.""What astonishes me most," resumed the pastor, addressing Wilfrid, "is to notice that you suffer from being near her.""Near her!" exclaimed the stranger, "she has never so much as let me touch her hand.When she saw me for the first time her glance intimidated me; she said: 'You are welcome here, for you were to come.' I fancied that she knew me.I trembled.It is fear that forces me to believe in her.""With me it is love," said Minna, without a blush.
"Are you making fun of me?" said Monsieur Becker, laughing good-humoredly; "you my daughter, in calling yourself a Spirit of Love, and you, Monsieur Wilfrid, in pretending to be a Spirit of Wisdom?"He drank a glass of beer and so did not see the singular look which Wilfrid cast upon Minna.
"Jesting apart," resumed the old gentleman, "I have been much astonished to hear that these two mad-caps ascended to the summit of the Falberg; it must be a girlish exaggeration; they probably went to the crest of a ledge.It is impossible to reach the peaks of the Falberg.""If so, father," said Minna, in an agitated voice, "I must have been under the power of a spirit; for indeed we reached the summit of the Ice-Cap.""This is really serious," said Monsieur Becker."Minna is always truthful.""Monsieur Becker," said Wilfrid, "I swear to you that Seraphita exercises such extraordinary power over me that I know no language in which I can give you the least idea of it.She has revealed to me things known to myself alone.""Somnambulism!" said the old man."A great many such effects are related by Jean Wier as phenomena easily explained and formerly observed in Egypt.""Lend me Swedenborg's theosophical works," said Wilfrid, "and let me plunge into those gulfs of light,--you have given me a thirst for them."Monsieur Becker took down a volume and gave it to his guest, who instantly began to read it.It was about nine o'clock in the evening.
The serving-woman brought in the supper.Minna made tea.The repast over, each turned silently to his or her occupation; the pastor read the Incantations; Wilfrid pursued the spirit of Swedenborg; and the young girl continued to sew, her mind absorbed in recollections.It was a true Norwegian evening--peaceful, studious, and domestic; full of thoughts, flowers blooming beneath the snow.Wilfrid, as he devoured the pages of the prophet, lived by his inner senses only; the pastor, looking up at times from his book, called Minna's attention to the absorption of their guest with an air that was half-serious, half-jesting.To Minna's thoughts the face of Seraphitus smiled upon her as it hovered above the clouds of smoke which enveloped them.The clock struck twelve.Suddenly the outer door was opened violently.Heavy but hurried steps, the steps of a terrified old man, were heard in the narrow vestibule between the two doors; then David burst into the parlor.
"Danger, danger!" he cried."Come! come, all! The evil spirits are unchained! Fiery mitres are on their heads! Demons, Vertumni, Sirens!
they tempt her as Jesus was tempted on the mountain! Come, come! and drive them away.""Do you not recognize the language of Swedenborg?" said the pastor, laughing, to Wilfrid."Here it is; pure from the source."But Wilfrid and Minna were gazing in terror at old David, who, with hair erect, and eyes distraught, his legs trembling and covered with snow, for he had come without snow-shoes, stood swaying from side to side, as if some boisterous wind were shaking him.
"Is he harmed?" cried Minna.
