they should take a cup of
coffee together. The mistress of the house went to prepare it, and
Anne Lisbeth sat down to wait for it. While waiting she fell asleep,
and she dreamed of one of whom she had never before dreamt: that was
very strange. She dreamed of her own child, who in that very house
had starved and squalled, and never tasted anything better than cold
water, and who now lay in the deep sea, our Lord only knew where. She
dreamed that she was sitting just where she really was seated, and
that the grave-digger's wife had gone to make some coffee, but had
first to grind the coffee-beans, and that a beautiful boy stood in the
doorway--a boy as charming as the little count had been; and the child
said,--

"The world is now passing away. Hold fast to me, for thou art my
mother. Thy child is an angel in the kingdom of heaven. Hold fast to
me!"

And he seized her. But there was a frightful uproar around, as if
worlds were breaking asunder; and the angel raised her up, and held
her fast by the sleeves of her dress--so fast, it seemed to her, that
she was lifted from the ground; but something hung so heavily about
her feet, something lay so heavily on her back: it was as if hundreds
of women were clinging fast to her, and crying, "If thou canst be
saved, so may we. We will hold on--hold on!" and they all appeared to
be holding on by her. Then the sleeves of her garments gave way, and
she fell, overcome with terror.

The sensation of fear awoke her, and she found herself on the point of
falling off her chair. Her head was so confused that at first she
could not remember what she had dreamt, though she knew it had been
something disagreeable. The coffee was drunk, and Anne Lisbeth took
her departure to the nearest village, where she might meet the
carrier, and get him to convey her that evening to the town where she
lived. But the carrier said he was not going until the following
evening; and, on calculating what it would cost her to remain till
then, she determined to walk home. She would not go by the high road,
but by the beach: that was at least eight or nine miles shorter. The
weather was fine, and it was full moon. She would be at home the next
morning.

The sun had set; the evening bells that had been chiming were hushed.
All was still; not a bird was to be heard twittering among the
leaves--they had all gone to rest: the owls were away. All was silence
in the wood; and on the beach, where she was walking,