to
mind what I was about,' said the wind. 'The cottage was allowed to
stand for the sake of the stork's nest; in itself it was only a
scarecrow on the heath, but the dean did not want to frighten away the
stork, so the hovel was allowed to stand. The poor soul inside was
allowed to live in it; she had the Egyptian bird to thank for that; or
was it payment for once having pleaded for the nest of his wild black
brother in the Borreby Forest? Then, poor thing, she was a child, a
delicate, pale hyacinth in a noble flower-garden. Poor Anna Dorothea;
she remembered it all! Ah, human beings can sigh as well as the wind
when it soughs through the rushes and reeds.

'Oh dear! oh dear! No bells rang over the grave of Waldemar Daa. No
schoolboys sang when the former lord of Borreby Castle was laid in his
grave. Well, everything must have an end, even misery! Sister Ida became
the wife of a peasant, and this was her father's sorest trial. His
daughter's husband a miserable serf, who might at any moment be ordered
the punishment of the wooden horse by his lord. It is well that the sod
covers him now, and you too, Ida! Ah yes! ah yes! Poor me! poor me! I
still linger on. In Thy mercy release me, O Christ!'

'This was the prayer of Anna Dorothea, as she lay in the miserable hovel
which was only left standing for the sake of the stork.

'I took charge of the boldest of the sisters,' said the wind. 'She had
clothes made to suit her manly disposition, and took a place as a lad
with a skipper. Her words were few and looks stubborn, but she was
willing enough at her work. But with all her will she could not climb
the rigging; so I blew her overboard before any one discovered that she
was a woman, and I fancy that was not a bad deed of mine!' said the
wind.

'On such an Easter morning as that on which Waldemar Daa thought he had
found the red gold, I heard from beneath the stork's nest a psalm
echoing through the miserable walls. It was Anna Dorothea's last song.
There was no window; only a hole in the wall. The sun rose in splendour
and poured in upon her; her eyes were glazed and her heart broken! This
would have been so this morning whether the sun had shone upon her or
not. The stork kept a roof over her head till her death! I sang at her
grave,' said the wind, 'and I sang at her father's grave. I know where
it is, and hers too, which is more than any one else knows.

'The old order changeth, giving place to the new. The old high-