The inside of the house was comfortable and roomy. Fritters,that a king would have looked upon as a dainty dish, were placed onthe table, and there was wine from the Skjagen vineyard- that is,the sea; for there the grapes come ashore ready pressed and preparedin barrels and in bottles.
  When the mother and daughter heard who Jurgen was, and howinnocently he had suffered, they looked at him in a still morefriendly way; and pretty Clara's eyes had a look of especialinterest as she listened to his story. Jurgen found a happy home inOld Skjagen. It did his heart good, for it had been sorely tried. Hehad drunk the bitter goblet of love which softens or hardens theheart, according to circumstances. Jurgen's heart was still soft- itwas young, and therefore it was a good thing that Miss Clara was goingin three weeks' time to Christiansand in Norway, in her father's ship,to visit an aunt and to stay there the whole winter.
  On the Sunday before she went away they all went to church, to theHoly Communion. The church was large and handsome, and had beenbuilt centuries before by Scotchmen and Dutchmen; it stood some littleway out of the town. It was rather ruinous certainly, and the roadto it was heavy, through deep sand, but the people gladly surmountedthese difficulties to get to the house of God, to sing psalms and tohear the sermon. The sand had heaped itself up round the walls ofthe church, but the graves were kept free from it.
  It was the largest church north of the Limfjorden. The VirginMary, with a golden crown on her head and the child Jesus in her arms,stood lifelike on the altar; the holy Apostles had been carved inthe choir, and on the walls there were portraits of the oldburgomasters and councillors of Skjagen; the pulpit was of carvedwork. The sun shone brightly into the church, and its radiance fell onthe polished brass chandelier and on the little ship that hung fromthe vaulted roof.
  Jurgen felt overcome by a holy, childlike feeling, like that whichpossessed him, when, as a boy, he stood in the splendid Spanishcathedral. But here the feeling was different, for he felt consciousof being one of the congregation.
  After the sermon followed Holy Communion. He partook of thebread and wine, and it so happened that he knelt by the side of MissClara; but his thoughts were so fixed upon heaven and the HolySacrament that he did not notice his neighbour until he rose fromhis knees, and then he saw tears rolling down her cheeks.
  She left Skjagen and went to Norway two days later. He remainedbehind, and made himself useful on the farm and at the fishery. Hewent out fishing, and in those days fish were more plentiful andlarger than they are now. The shoals of the mackerel glittered inthe dark nights, and indicated where they were swimming; thegurnards snarled, and the crabs gave forth pitiful yells when theywere chased, for fish are not so mute as people say.
  Every Sunday Jurgen went to church; and when his eyes rested onthe picture of the Virgin Mary over the altar as he sat there, theyoften glided away to the spot where they had knelt side by side.
  Autumn came, and brought rain and snow with it; the water roseup right into the town of Skjagen, the sand could not suck it allin, one had to wade through it or go by boat. The storms threwvessel after vessel on the fatal reefs; there were snow-storm andsand-storms; the sand flew up to the houses, blocking the entrances,so that people had to creep up through the chimneys; that wasnothing at all remarkable here. It was pleasant and cheerfulindoors, where peat fuel and fragments of wood from the wrecksblazed and crackled upon the hearth. Merchant Bronne read aloud,from an old chronicle, about Prince Hamlet of Denmark, who had comeover from England, landed near Bovbjerg, and fought a battle; close byRamme was his grave, only a few miles from the place where theeel-breeder lived; hundreds of barrow rose there from the heath,forming as it were an enormous churchyard. Merchant Bronne hadhimself been at Hamlet's grave; they spoke about old times, and abouttheir neighbours, the English and the Scotch, and Jurgen sang the airof "The King of England's Son," and of his splendid ship and itsoutfit.
  "In the hour of peril when most men fear,
  He clasped the bride that he held so dear,
  And proved himself the son of a King;
  Of his courage and valour let us sing."
  This verse Jurgen sang with so much feeling that his eyesbeamed, and they were black and sparkling since his infancy.
  There was wealth, comfort, and happiness even among the domesticanimals, for they were all well cared for, and well kept. Thekitchen looked bright with its copper and tin utensils, and whiteplates, and from the rafters hung hams, beef, and winter stores inplenty. This can still be seen in many rich farms on the west coast ofJutland: plenty to eat and drink, clean, prettily decorated rooms,active minds, cheerful tempers, and hospitality can be found there, asin an Arab's tent.
  Jurgen had never spent such a happy time since the famous burialfeast, and yet Miss Clara was absent, except in the thoughts andmemory of all.
  In April a ship was to start for Norway, and Jurgen was to sail init. He was full of life and spirits, and looked so sturdy and wellthat Dame Bronne said it did her good to see him.
  "And it does one good to look at you also, old wife," said themerchant. "Jurgen has brought fresh life into our winter evenings, andinto you too, mother. You look younger than ever this year, and seemwell and cheerful. But then you were once the prettiest girl inViborg, and that is saying a great deal, for I have always found theViborg girls the prettiest of any."
  Jurgen said nothing, but he thought of a certain maiden ofSkjagen, whom he was soon to visit. The ship set sail forChristiansand in Norway, and as the wind was favourable it soonarrived there.
  One morning merchant Bronne went out to the lighthouse, whichstands a little way out of Old Skjagen, not far from "Grenen." Thelight was out, and the sun was already high in the heavens, when hemounted the tower. The sand-banks extend a whole mile from theshore, beneath the water, outside these banks; many ships could beseen that day, and with the aid of his telescope the old man thoughthe descried his own ship, the Karen Bronne. Yes!