Short Fiction, Selma Lagerlöf [uplifting novels txt] 📗

the hunters were discussing this matter, the parson saw something that glittered at the base of the mountain, where he had kicked away a moss-tuft. ‘This is a queer mountain,’ he thought, as he kicked off another moss-tuft. He picked up a shiver of stone that came with the moss and which shone exactly like the other. ‘It can’t be possible that this stuff is lead,’ said he. Then the others sprang up and scraped away the turf with the butt end of their rifles. When they did this, they saw plainly that a broad vein of ore followed the mountain. ‘What do you think this might be?’ asked the parson. The men chipped off bits of stone and bit into them. ‘It must be lead, or zinc at least,’ said they. ‘And the whole mountain is full of it,’ added the innkeeper.”

When the parson had got thus far in his narrative, the King’s head was seen to straighten up a little and one eye opened. “Do you know if any of those persons knew anything about ore and minerals?” he asked.

“They did not,” replied the parson.

Then the King’s head sank and both eyes closed.

“The clergyman and his companions were very happy,” continued the speaker, without letting himself be disturbed by the King’s indifference; “they fancied that now they had found that which would give them and their descendants wealth. ‘I’ll never have to do any more work,’ said one. ‘Now I can afford to do nothing at all the whole week through, and on Sundays I shall drive to church in a golden chariot!’ They were otherwise sensible men, but the great find had gone to their heads and they talked like children. Still they had enough presence of mind to put back the moss-tufts and conceal the vein of ore. Then they carefully noted the place where it was, and went home. Before they parted company, they agreed that the parson should travel to Falun and ask the mining expert what kind of ore this was. He was to return as soon as possible, and until then they promised one another on oath not to reveal to a single soul where the ore was to be found.”

The King’s head was raised again a trifle, but he did not interrupt the speaker with a word. It appeared as though he was beginning to believe that the man actually had something of importance he wished to say to him, since he didn’t allow himself to be disturbed by his indifference.

“Then the parson departed with a few samples of ore in his pocket. He was just as happy in the thought of becoming rich as the others were. He was thinking of rebuilding the parsonage, which at present was no better than a peasant’s cottage, and then he would marry a dean’s daughter whom he liked. He had thought that he might have to wait for her many years! He was poor and obscure and knew that it would be a long while before he should get any post that would enable him to marry.

“The parson drove over to Falun in two days, and there he had to wait another whole day because the mining expert was away. Finally, he ran across him and showed him the bits of ore. The mining expert took them in his hand. He looked at them first, then at the parson. The parson related how he had found them in a mountain at home in his parish, and wondered if it might not be lead.

“ ‘No, it’s not lead,’ said the mining expert.

“ ‘Perhaps it is zinc, then?’ asked the parson.

“ ‘Nor is it zinc,’ said the mineralogist.

“The parson thought that all the hope within him sank. He had not been so depressed in many a long day.

“ ‘Have you many stones like these in your parish?’ asked the mineralogist.

“ ‘We have a whole mountain full,’ said the parson.

“Then the mineralogist came up closer, slapped the parson on the shoulder, and said, ‘Let us see that you make such good use of this that it will prove a blessing both to yourselves and to the country, for this is silver.’

“ ‘Indeed?’ said the parson, feeling his way. ‘So it is silver!’

“The mineralogist began telling him how he should go to work to get legal rights to the mine and gave him many valuable suggestions; but the parson stood there dazed and didn’t listen to what he was saying. He was only thinking of how wonderful it was that at home in his poor parish stood a whole mountain of silver ore, waiting for him.”

The King raised his head so suddenly that the parson stopped short in his narrative. “It turned out, of course, that when he got home and began working the mine, he saw that the mineralogist had only been fooling him,” said the King.

“Oh, no, the mineralogist had not fooled him,” said the parson.

“You may continue,” said the King, as he settled himself more comfortably in the chair to listen.

“When the parson was at home again and was driving through the parish,” continued the clergyman, “he thought that first of all he should inform his partners of the value of their find. And as he drove alongside the innkeeper Sten Stensson’s place, he intended to drive up to the house to tell him they had found silver. But when he stopped outside the gate, he noticed that a broad path of evergreen was strewn all the way up to the doorstep.

“ ‘Who has died in this place?’ asked the parson of a boy who stood leaning against the fence.

“ ‘The innkeeper himself,’ answered the boy. Then he let the clergyman know that the innkeeper had drunk himself full every day for a week. ‘Oh, so much brandy, so much brandy has been drunk here!’

“ ‘How can that be?’ asked the parson. ‘The innkeeper used never to drink himself full.’

“ ‘Oh,’ said the boy, ‘he drank because he said he had found a mine. He was very rich. He should never have to do