ffs are," said the Pastor. "The cliffs are
chalk, with layers of flint, and were supposed to be peopled with
Underjordiske or underground people, the chief of whom was called the
Klinte Konge, or cliff king. Klint is the Danish word for cliff. His
queen is described as being very beautiful, and she resided at the
place called Dronningstol, or the queen's throne or chair, and near it
was her sceptre, in old times called Dronningspir, but now called
Sommerspir. The Klinte Konge was supposed to reside at Kongsberg. He
was always at war with another Klinte Konge, at Rygen, and there is an
old ballad on the subject. It is said that when Denmark is in danger,
the Klinte Konge and his army can be seen ready to resist the invader.
There are very many variations of this superstitious story, more or
less picturesque."

"Are there any stories of communications between the Underjordiske and
mortals?" asked Mr. Hardy.

"There is such a story. A woman called Margrethe Skaelvigs was going to
Emelund to borrow a dress of Peer Munk's wife, to be married in, when
an old woman met her, and asked where she was going. Margrethe told
her. 'When you pass here on Saturday, I will lend you a bridal dress;'
and she gave Margrethe a dress of cloth of gold, and told her to
return it in eight days; but that if Margrethe saw no one when she
brought it back, she might keep the dress. No one appeared, and
Margrethe kept the dress."

"The conjecture might be that the dress was given her by her intended
husband," said Hardy, "who adopted this method of giving her a dress.
I should like to impose on Helga in the same way."

"Don't talk nonsense, John," said Mrs. Hardy, who feared that it might
not be agreeable to Pastor Lindal; and, to turn his thoughts in
another direction, asked him if there were not other legends of a
different type.

"Yes; there is one very commonly repeated," he replied. "A Bonde had
twenty pigs ranging through the wood by Moen's Klint. He lost them,
and after searching for a whole year, he met Gamle Erik (the devil;
literally, Old Erik) riding on a pig and driving nineteen before him,
and making a great noise by beating on an old copper kettle. The pigs
were all in good case, except the one Gamle Erik rode, which bore
traces of bad treatment. The Bonde shouted and called, and Gamle Erik
was frightened, and dropped the copper kettle, and let the pigs be
pigs. So the Bonde had not only his pigs, but a copper kettle to
recollec