Anne Lisbeth · page 21 2101Troublesome thoughts often exist in the mind, fermenting there, which are not realized by us while the senses are as it were slumbering; but still they are there.102Anne Lisbeth walked on thus with her senses half asleep, but the thoughts were fermenting within her.103From one Shrove Tuesday to another, much may occur to weigh down the heart; it is the reckoning of a whole year; much may be forgotten, sins against heaven in word and thought, sins against our neighbor, and against our own conscience.104We are scarcely aware of their existence; and Anne Lisbeth did not think of any of her errors.105She had committed no crime against the law of the land; she was an honorable person, in a good position--that she knew.106She continued her walk along by the margin of the sea.107What was it she saw lying there?checked by a teacher108An old hat; a man's hat.109Now when might that have been washed overboard?110She drew nearer, she stopped to look at the hat; "Ha! what was lying yonder?"111She shuddered; yet it was nothing save a heap of grass and tangled seaweed flung across a long stone, but it looked like a corpse.112Only tangled grass, and yet she was frightened at it.113As she turned to walk away, much came into her mind that she had heard in her childhood: old superstitions of spectres by the sea-shore; of the ghosts of drowned but unburied people, whose corpses had been washed up on the desolate beach.114The body, she knew, could do no harm to any one, but the spirit could pursue the lonely wanderer, attach itself to him, and demand to be carried to the churchyard, that it might rest in consecrated ground. "115Hold fast! hold fast!" the spectre would cry; and as Anne Lisbeth murmured these words to herself, the whole of her dream was suddenly recalled to her memory, when the mother had clung to her, and uttered these words, when, amid the crashing of worlds, her sleeve had been torn, and she had slipped from the grasp of her child, who wanted to hold her up in that terrible hour.116Her child, her own child, which she had never loved, lay now buried in the sea, and might rise up, like a spectre, from the waters, and cry, "Hold fast; carry me to consecrated ground!"117As these thoughts passed through her mind, fear gave speed to her feet, so that she walked faster and faster.118Fear came upon her as if a cold, clammy hand had been laid upon her heart, so that she almost fainted.119As she looked across the sea, all there grew darker; a heavy mist came rolling onwards, and clung to bush and tree, distorting them into fantastic shapes.120She turned and glanced at the moon, which had risen behind her.121It looked like a pale, rayless surface, and a deadly weight seemed to hang upon her limbs. "122Hold," thought she; and then she turned round a second time to look at the moon.123A white face appeared quite close to her, with a mist, hanging like a garment from its shoulders. "124Stop! carry me to consecrated earth," sounded in her ears, in strange, hollow tones.125The sound did not come from frogs or ravens; she saw no sign of such creatures. "126A grave! dig me a grave!" was repeated quite loud.127Yes, it was indeed the spectre of her child.128The child that lay beneath the ocean, and whose spirit could have no rest until it was carried to the churchyard, and until a grave had been dug for it in consecrated ground.129She would go there at once, and there she would dig.130She turned in the direction of the church, and the weight on her heart seemed to grow lighter, and even to vanish altogether; but when she turned to go home by the shortest way, it returned. "131Stop! stop!" and the words came quite clear, though they were like the croak of a frog, or the wail of a bird. "132A grave! dig me a grave!"133The mist was cold and damp, her hands and face were moist and clammy with horror, a heavy weight again seized her and clung to her, her mind became clear for thoughts that had never before been there.134In these northern regions, a beech-wood often buds in a single night and appears in the morning sunlight in its full glory of youthful green.135So, in a single instant, can the consciousness of the sin that has been committed in thoughts, words, and actions of our past life, be unfolded to us.136When once the conscience is awakened, it springs up in the heart spontaneously, and God awakens the conscience when we least expect it.137Then we can find no excuse for ourselves; the deed is there and bears witness against us.138The thoughts seem to become words, and to sound far out into the world.139We are horrified at the thought of what we have carried within us, and at the consciousness that we have not overcome the evil which has its origin in thoughtlessness and pride.140The heart conceals within itself the vices as well as the virtues, and they grow in the shallowest ground.141Anne Lisbeth now experienced in thought what we have clothed in words.142She was overpowered by them, and sank down and crept along for some distance on the ground. "143A grave! dig me a grave!" sounded again in her ears, and she would have gladly buried herself, if in the grave she could have found forgetfulness of her actions.144It was the first hour of her awakening, full of anguish and horror.145Superstition made her alternately shudder with cold or burn with the heat of fever.146Many things, of which she had feared even to speak, came into her mind.147Silently, as the cloud-shadows in the moonshine, a spectral apparition flitted by her; she had heard of it before.148Close by her galloped four snorting steeds, with fire flashing from their eyes and nostrils.149They dragged a burning coach, and within it sat the wicked lord of the manor, who had ruled there a hundred years before.150The legend says that every night, at twelve o'clock, he drove into his castleyard and out again.151He was not as pale as dead men are, but black as a coal.152He nodded, and pointed to Anne Lisbeth, crying out, "Hold fast! hold fast! and then you may ride again in a nobleman's carriage, and forget your child."153She gathered herself up, and hastened to the churchyard; but black crosses and black ravens danced before her eyes, and she could not distinguish one from the other.154The ravens croaked as the raven had done which she saw in the daytime, but now she understood what they said. "155I am the raven-mother; I am the raven-mother," each raven croaked, and Anne Lisbeth felt that the name also applied to her; and she fancied she should be transformed into a black bird, and have to cry as they cried, if she did not dig the grave.156And she threw herself upon the earth, and with her hands dug a grave in the hard ground, so that the blood ran from her fingers. "157A grave! dig me a grave!" still sounded in her ears; she was fearful that the cock might crow, and the first red streak appear in the east, before she had finished her work; and then she would be lost.158And the cock crowed, and the day dawned in the east, and the grave was only half dug.checked by a teacher159An icy hand passed over her head and face, and down towards her heart. "160Only half a grave," a voice wailed, and fled away.161Yes, it fled away over the sea; it was the ocean spectre; and, exhausted and overpowered, Anne Lisbeth sunk to the ground, and her senses left her.162It was a bright day when she came to herself, and two men were raising her up; but she was not lying in the churchyard, but on the sea-shore, where she had dug a deep hole in the sand, and cut her hand with a piece of broken glass, whose sharp stern was stuck in a little block of painted wood.163Anne Lisbeth was in a fever.164Conscience had roused the memories of superstitions, and had so acted upon her mind, that she fancied she had only half a soul, and that her child had taken the other half down into the sea.165Never would she be able to cling to the mercy of Heaven till she had recovered this other half which was now held fast in the deep water.166Anne Lisbeth returned to her home, but she was no longer the woman she had been.167Her thoughts were like a confused, tangled skein; only one thread, only one thought was clear to her, namely that she must carry the spectre of the sea-shore to the churchyard, and dig a grave for him there; that by so doing she might win back her soul.168Many a night she was missed from her home, and was always found on the sea-shore waiting for the spectre.169In this way a whole year passed; and then one night she vanished again, and was not to be found.170The whole of the next day was spent in a useless search after her.171Towards evening, when the clerk entered the church to toll the vesper bell, he saw by the altar Anne Lisbeth, who had spent the whole day there.172Her powers of body were almost exhausted, but her eyes flashed brightly, and on her cheeks was a rosy flush.173The last rays of the setting sun shone upon her, and gleamed over the altar upon the shining clasps of the Bible, which lay open at the words of the prophet Joel, "Rend your hearts and not your garments, and turn unto the Lord."174"That was just a chance," people said; but do things happen by chance?175In the face of Anne Lisbeth, lighted up by the evening sun, could be seen peace and rest.176She said she was happy now, for she had conquered.177The spectre of the shore, her own child, had come to her the night before, and had said to her, "Thou hast dug me only half a grave: but thou hast now, for a year and a day, buried me altogether in thy heart, and it is there a mother can best hide her child!"178And then he gave her back her lost soul, and brought her into the church. "179Now I am in the house of God," she said, "and in that house we are happy."180When the sun set, Anne Lisbeth's soul had risen to that region where there is no more pain; and Anne Lisbeth's troubles were at an end.1 2← previousThe Angelnext →The Conceited Apple-branch↑ back to Fairy Tales of Hans Christian AndersenThis page in Markdown → https://md.mova.elamur.ai/free/en/corpora/tales/pg27200/5/page/2/