Page:Fairy tales from Hans Christian Andersen (Walker).djvu/236

196 it was a pretty sight. Each boy shouldered his gun, and the bear, of course, had to have one, too, and he held it as tightly as any of them. This was indeed a rare playmate they had got, and no mistake. They marched up and down 'one, two; one, two!' Just then some one came to the door and opened it; it was the children's mother. You should have seen the terrible, speechless agony in her ashen face, with open mouth, and starting eyes. But the smallest boy nodded to her; he was ever so pleased, and cried out loud, in his baby way, 'We are only playing soldiers, mother.' And then the bear-leader made his appearance."

THIRTY-SECOND EVENING

The wind blew strong and cold, the clouds were chasing by, and the moon only appeared now and then.

"I look down upon the flying clouds from the silence of space above!" said he. "I can see the clouds chasing over the earth. Just lately I was looking down into a prison, outside which stood a closed carriage; a prisoner was about to leave. My beams penetrated the grated window and shone upon the inside wall. The prisoner was tracing some lines upon the wall; it was his farewell. He did not write words, but a tune; the outpouring of his heart on his last night in this place. The door opened and he was conducted to the carriage; he looked up at my round disc—clouds flew between us, as if he might not see my face nor I his. He got into the carriage, the door was shut, the whip cracked, and off they went through the thick forest, where my beams could not reach. I looked in through the prison grating again, and my beams fell once more upon the wall where the melody was traced—his last farewell: where words fail, melody may often speak! But my rays only lighted up a few isolated notes, the greater part will always remain dark to me. Was it a death hymn he wrote? or were they carolling notes of joy? Was he driving to meet