ter,
who nodded his head, for the loud music sounded above everything.
"Yes, yes, her name is Joanna," said the master; and he drew forth a
printed playbill, and showed Knud her name--for the full name was
printed there.

No, it was not a dream! All the people applauded, and threw wreaths
and flowers to her, and every time she went away they called her back,
so that she was always going and coming.

In the street the people crowded round her carriage, and drew it away
in triumph. Knud was in the foremost row, and shouted as joyously as
any; and when the carriage stopped before her brilliantly lighted
house, Knud stood close beside the door of the carriage. It flew open,
and she stepped out: the light fell upon her dear face, as she smiled,
and made a kindly gesture of thanks, and appeared deeply moved. Knud
looked straight into her face, and she looked into his, but she did
not know him. A man, with a star glittering on his breast, gave her
his arm--and it was whispered about that the two were engaged.

Then Knud went home and packed his knapsack. He was determined to go
back to his own home, to the elder and the willow tree--ah, under the
willow tree! A whole life is sometimes lived through in a single hour.

The old couple begged him to remain, but no words could induce him to
stay. It was in vain they told him that winter was coming, and pointed
out that snow had already fallen in the mountains; he said he could
march on, with his knapsack on his back, in the wake of the
slow-moving carriage, for which they would have to clear a path.

So he went away towards the mountains, and marched up them and down
them. His strength was giving way, but still he saw no village, no
house; he marched on towards the north. The stars gleamed above him,
his feet stumbled, and his head grew dizzy. Deep in the valley stars
were shining too, and it seemed as if there were another sky below
him. He felt he was ill. The stars below him became more and more
numerous, and glowed brighter and brighter, and moved to and fro. It
was a little town whose lights beamed there; and when he understood
that, he exerted the remains of his strength, and at last reached the
shelter of a humble inn.

That night and the whole of the following day he remained there, for
his body required rest and refreshment. It was thawing; there was rain
in the valley. But early on the second morning came a man with an
organ, who played a tune of home; and now Knud