"They did as their pastor wished," said the parson. "They understood that he meant well by them when he wanted to remain poor for their sakes. And they commissioned him to go to the forest and conceal the vein of ore with evergreen and stone, so that no one would be able to find it--neither they themselves nor their posterity." "And ever since the parson has been living here just as poor as the rest?" "Yes," answered the curate, "he has lived here just as poor as the rest." "He has married, of course, and built himself a new parsonage?" said the King. "No, he couldn't afford to marry, and he lives in the old cabin." "It's a pretty story that you have told me," said the King. After a few seconds he resumed: "Was it of the silver mountain that you were thinking when you said that the parson here would be able to procure for me as much money as I need?" "Yes," said the other. "But I can't put the thumb-screws on him," said the King. "Or how would you that I should get such a man to show me the mountain--a man who has renounced his sweetheart and all the allurements of life?" "Oh, that's a different matter," said the parson. "But if it's the Fatherland that is in need of the fortune, he will probably give in." "Will you answer for that?" asked the King. "Yes, that I will answer for," said the clergyman. "Doesn't he care, then, what becomes of his parishioners?" "That can rest in God's hand." The King rose from the chair and walked over to the window. He stood for a moment and looked upon the group of people outside. The longer he looked, the clearer his large eyes shone, and his figure seemed to grow. "You may greet the pastor of this congregation, and say that for Sweden's King there is no sight more beautiful than to see a people such as this!" Then the King turned from the window and looked at the clergyman. He began to smile. "Is it true that the pastor of this parish is so poor that he removes his black clothes as soon as the service is over and dresses himself like a peasant?" asked the King. "Yes, so poor is he," said the curate, and a crimson flush leaped into his rough-hewn face. The King went back to the window. One could see that he was in his best mood. All that was noble and great within him had been quickened into life. "You must let that mine lie in peace," said the King. "Inasmuch as you have labored and starved a lifetime to make this people such as you would have it, you may keep it as it is." "But if the kingdom is in danger?" said the parson. "The kingdom is better served with men than with money," remarked the King. When he had said this, he bade the clergyman farewell and went out from the vestry. Without stood the group of people, as quiet and taciturn as they were when he went in. As the King came down the steps, a peasant stepped up to him. "Have you had a talk with our pastor?" said the peasant. "Yes," said the King. "I have talked with him."