e at the Naes. It was
demolished. The stones were used again, and became new walls--a new
building--at another place, and that was Borreby Castle as it now
stands. I have seen and known the high-born ladies and gentlemen, the
various generations that have dwelt in it; and now I shall tell about
WALDEMAR DAAE AND HIS DAUGHTERS.

"He held his head so high: he was of royal extraction. He could do
more than hunt a stag and drain a goblet: that would be proved some
day, he said to himself.

"His proud lady, apparelled in gold brocade, walked erect over her
polished inlaid floor. The tapestry was magnificent, the furniture
costly, and beautifully carved; vessels of gold and silver she had in
profusion; there were stores of German ale in the cellars; handsome
spirited horses neighed in the stables; all was superb within Borreby
Castle when wealth was there.

"And children were there; three fine girls--Ide, Johanne, and Anna
Dorthea. I remember their names well even now.

"They were rich people, they were people of distinction--born in
grandeur, and brought up in it. Wheugh--wheugh!" whistled the wind;
then it continued the tale.

"I never saw there, as in other old mansions, the high-born lady
sitting in her boudoir with her maidens and spinning-wheels. She
played on the lute, and sang to it, though never the old Danish
ballads, but songs in foreign languages. Here were banqueting and
mirth, titled guests came from far and near, music's tones were heard,
goblets rang. I could not drown the noise," said the wind. "Here were
arrogance, ostentation, and display; here was power, but not OUR
LORD."

"It was one May-day evening," said the wind. "I came from the
westward. I had seen ships crushed into wrecks on the west coast of
Jutland. I had hurried over the dreary heaths and green woody coast,
had crossed the island of Funen, and swept over the Great Belt, and I
was hoarse with blowing. Then I laid myself down to rest on the coast
of Zealand, near Borreby, where there stood the forest and the
charming meadows. The young men from the neighbourhood assembled
there, and collected brushwood and branches of trees, the largest and
driest they could find. They carried them to the village, laid them in
a heap, and set fire to it; then they and the village girls sang and
danced round it.

"I lay still," said the wind; "but I softly stirred one branch--one
which had been placed on the bonfire by the handsomest youth. His
piece of