the east, before she had finished her work; and then she would
be lost. And the cock crowed, and the day dawned in the east,
and the grave was only half dug. An icy hand passed over her
head and face, and down towards her heart. "Only half a
grave," a voice wailed, and fled away. Yes, 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.
It 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. Anne
Lisbeth was in a fever. Conscience 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. Never 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.
Anne Lisbeth returned to her home, but she was no longer
the woman she had been. Her 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. Many a night she was missed
from her home, and was always found on the sea-shore waiting
for the spectre.
In this way a whole year passed; and then one night she
vanished again, and was not to be found. The whole of the next
day was spent in a useless search after her.
Towards 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. Her powers of body were almost
exhausted, but her eyes flashed brightly, and on her cheeks
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was a rosy flush. The 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."
"That was just a chance," people said; but do things
happen by chance? In the face of Anne Lisbeth, lighted up by
the evening sun, could be seen peace and rest. She said she
was happy now, for she had conquered. The 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!" And
then he gave her back her lost soul, and brought her into the
church. "Now I am in the house of God," she said, "and in that
house we are happy."
When 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.
THE END
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