478 UNDER THE WILLOW TREE.

each of which beautiful silken curtains hung down, and from the
ground to the dizzy height of the roof sat elegant ladies, with
bouquets of flowers in their hands, as if they were at a ball, and
the gentlemen were in full dress, and many of them decorated
with gold and silver. It was as bright there as in the brilliant
sunshine, and the music rolled gloriously through the building.
Everything was much more splendid than in the theatre at
Copenhagen, but then Joanna had been there, and——could it
se? Yes, it was like magic—she was here also! for the curtain
rose, and Joanna appeared, dressed in silk and gold, witha crown
upon her head: she sang as he thought none but angels could
sing, and came far forward, quite to the front of the stage, and
smiled as only Joanna could smile, and looked straight down at
Knud. Poor Knud seized his master’s hand, and called out aloud,
—‘‘Joanna!” but no one heard but the master, who nodded his
head, for the loud music sounded above everything.

“Yes, yes, her name is Joanna,” said the master.

And he drew forth a printed playbill, and showed Knud her
name—-for the full name was printed there. ;

No, it was not a dream! All the people applauded and threw
wreaths of flowers to her, and every time she went away they
called her back, so that she was always coming and going.

In the street the people crowded round her carriage, and drew
it away in triumph. Knud was in the foremost row, and shouted
as joyously as any; and when the carriage stopped before her
brilliantly lighted house, Knud stood close beside the door of the
carriage. It flew open, and she stepped out : the light fell upon
her dear face, as she smiled, and made a kindly gesture of thanks,
and appeared deeply moved. Knud looked straight into her face,
and she looked into his, but she did not know him. A man with
a star glittering on his breast gave her his arm—and it was
whispered about that the two were engaged.

Then Knud went home and packed his knapsack. He was
determined to go back to his own home, to the elder and willow
trees—ah, under the willow tree! A whole life is sometimes
lived through in a single hour.

The old couple begged him to remain, but no words could in-
duce him to stay. It was in vain they told him that winter was
coming, and pointed out that snow had already fallen in the
mountains ; he said he could march on, with his knapsack on
his back, in the wake of the slow-moving carriage, for which
they would have to clear a path.

So he went away towards the mountains, and marched up them
and down them. His strength was giving way, but still he saw
no village, no house; he marched on towards the north. The
stars gleamed above him, his feet stumbled, and his head grew
dizzy. Deep in the valley stars were shining too, and it seemed
as if there were another sky below him. He felt he was ill. The