Bohuslän (Sweden) -- Fiction; Murder -- Fiction; Sweden -- History -- 1523-1718 -- Fiction; Swedish fiction -- Translations into English
One day there had been no fish to clean on the quays, so that
Elsalill had stayed at home. She sat at the spinning-wheel and was
alone in the cottage. A good fire was burning on the hearth, and
it was light enough in the room.
In the midst of her work she felt a light breath, as though a cold
breeze had swept over her forehead. She looked up and saw her dead
foster sister standing beside her.
Elsalill laid her hand on the wheel to stop it, and sat still,
looking at her foster sister. At first she was afraid, but she
thought to herself: "It is unworthy of me to be afraid of my
foster sister. Whether she be dead or alive, I am still glad to
see her."
"Dear sister," she said to the dead girl, "is there aught you
would have me do?"
The other said to her in a voice that had neither strength nor
tone: "My sister Elsalill, I am in service at the tavern, and the
hostess has made me stand and wash cups and dishes all day. Now
the evening is come and I am so tired that I can hold out no
longer. I have come hither to ask if you will not give me your
help."
When Elsalill heard this it was as though a veil was drawn over
her mind. She could no longer think nor wonder nor feel any fear.
She only knew joy at seeing her foster sister again, and she
answered: "Yes, dear sister, I will come straight and help you."
Then the dead girl went to the door, and Elsalill followed her.
But as they stood on the threshold her foster sister paused and
said to Elsalill: "You must put on your cloak. There is a strong
wind outside." And as she said this her voice sounded clearer and
less muffled than before.
Elsalill then took her cloak from the wall and wrapped it around
her. She thought to herself: "My foster sister loves me still. She
wishes me no evil. I am only happy that I may go with her wherever
she may take me."
And then she followed the dead girl through many streets, all the
way from Torarin's cabin, which stood on a rocky slope, down to
the level streets about the harbour and the market place.
The dead girl always walked two paces in front of Elsalill. A
heavy gale was blowing that evening, howling through the streets,
and Elsalill noticed that when a violent gust would have flung her
against the wall, the dead girl placed herself between her and the
wind and screened her as well as she could with her slender body.
When at last they came to the town hall the dead girl went down
the cellar steps and beckoned Elsalill to follow her. But as they
were going down the wind blew out the light in the lantern that
hung in the lobby and they were in darkness. Then Elsalill did not
know where to turn her steps and the dead girl had to put her hand
on hers to lead her. But the dead girl's hand was so cold that
Elsalill started and began to quake with fear. Then the dead girl
drew her hand away and wound it in a corner of Elsalill's cloak
before she led her on again. But Elsalill felt the icy chill
through fur and lining.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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