In God's Way: A Novel

In the melting snow on the hill-side by the sea, in the last rays of the evening sun, stood a boy of fourteen, awestruck. He looked toward the west, out across the sea; he looked toward the east, over town and shore and the broad hills; in the background still higher peaks rose far away in the clear sky.

The storm had lasted a long time; it had been more terrible, too, than any the old people could remember. In spite of the new dyke, many ships had been driven ashore, and many had sunk. The telegraph brought news of wrecks all along the coast, and close by here the herring-nets had been broken and washed away, oars and anchors had disappeared; it was even feared that the worst was not yet known.

It was but a few hours since a calm had set in, the storm had abated, the gusts of wind ceased, all was over--all except the last low grumblings of the storm.

But the sea was rebellious; it does not do to stir up the deep and then to run away. Far off in the distance great sea-waves, higher than houses, came rolling up in endless lines with foam-white crests and a crashing fall; the dull, heavy thud was heard across the town and shore; it was like a piece of land slipping away down into space.

Each time the waves at full height stormed the mountain, the spray was dashed up to a monstrous height; from afar it seemed as though the great white sea-monsters of the old legends were trying to land just at that very spot. But a few salt splashes were all that reached the top; they stung the boy's cheek as he stood there motionless.

As a rule it was only the very worst westerly storms that could dash the spray so high; but now it had reached the top though the air was so calm. No one but he had ever seen such a sight.

Away in the far west, sky and sea seemed melting into one in the glow of the setting sun. It was like some golden realm of peace; and all the deep sea-waves, with their white crests rolling up from as far as the eye could reach, were like banished rebels; they came crowding onward, protesting, million-mouthed.

The contrast of colouring was now at its height; no more blending of lights and shades, not even a red shimmer made its way across. There was a rich, warm glow, here a cold, blue-black lay over the sea and snowy coast; all that could be seen of the town from the hill-side dwindled away and seemed to grow less and less every time the boy turned to look inland. But each time he looked he felt himself grow more restless and uneasy; surely that was a bad sign; could more be going to happen? His imagination was startled, and, tired as he was from want of sleep, he had no strength to fight against this fear.

The splendour of the sky was disappearing, all the colour gradually fading away. The roar from down below, where the sea-monsters were trying to climb, grew louder and louder; or was it he who heard it more plainly?

Was this meant for him? What in the world had he been doing? Or was he going to do something wrong? Once before the same vague fear had proved to be a bad omen.

It was not the storm alone that had frightened him; a short time ago a lay preacher had prophesied that the end of the world was at hand; all the signs of the Bible had come to pass, and the prophecies of Jeremiah and Daniel were clearly to be understood. It made such a sensation that the papers took up the matter and announced that the same thing had been foretold so very often before, and those prophecies of Jeremiah and Daniel were always suited to the occasion. But when the hurricane came, and was fiercer and more terrible than any that could be remembered; when ships loosed from their moorings were driven up against the wharf, crushed themselves and crushing others, and especially when night came on and shrouded everything in darkness, and no lantern even could keep alight, ... the crashing fall of the waves was heard but not seen, shouts of command, screamings and great lamentations; and in the streets such terror, roofs were lifted right off, houses shook, windows rattled, stones hurled about, and the distant screams of those trying to escape only added to the fright, ... then, indeed, were many who remembered the words of the preacher; God help and save us, surely the last day has come and the stars are about to fall. The children especially were frightened to death. The parents had not time to stay with them; though the last day of the world had come, still there was a doubt as to whether it really were the last day, and from sheer force of habit it was thought wiser to look well after all worldly goods, so they saved what they could, and put up bolts and bars, and ran to look to the fires, and were busy everywhere. But to the children they gave prayer-books and psalm-books, and told them to read what was written about earthquakes and other plagues, and about the day of judgment; hurriedly they found the places for them, and then ran and left them. As if the children could read then!

Some there were who went to bed and pulled the bedclothes over their heads; some took their dog or cat with them--it was company for them, and they would die together. But it happened sometimes that neither dog nor cat chose to die under the bedclothes, so then there was a fight.

The boy who now stood up on the top of the hill had been absolutely crazy with fear. But he was one of those whom fright drove about from place to place--out of the house into the street, from the street down to the harbour, and then back home again. No less than three times had his father been after him, caught him and locked him in, but he always managed to get out again. Now this was not the sort of thing that could have been done with impunity in an ordinary way, for no boy was kept more strictly or got such abundance of thrashings as Edward Kallem; but the one benefit the storm brought was that there were no blows that night.