Anecdotes of Destiny and Ehrengard Read Online Free Page B

disappeared again. Her elder sister would then answer her gently, with a still, clear face, and find other things to discuss.
III. PHILIPPA’S LOVER
    A year later a more distinguished person even than Lieutenant Loewenhielm came to Berlevaag.
    The great singer Achille Papin of Paris had sung for aweek at the Royal Opera of Stockholm, and had carried away his audience there as everywhere. One evening a lady of the Court, who had been dreaming of a romance with the artist, had described to him the wild, grandiose scenery of Norway. His own romantic nature was stirred by the narration, and he had laid his way back to France round the Norwegian coast. But he felt small in the sublime surroundings; with nobody to talk to he fell into that melancholy in which he saw himself as an old man, at the end of his career, till on a Sunday, when he could think of nothing else to do, he went to church and heard Philippa sing.
    Then in one single moment he knew and understood all. For here were the snowy summits, the wild flowers and the white Nordic nights, translated into his own language of music, and brought him in a young woman’s voice. Like Lorens Loewenhielm he had a vision.
    “Almighty God,” he thought, “Thy power is without end, and Thy mercy reacheth unto the clouds! And here is a prima donna of the opera who will lay Paris at her feet.”
    Achille Papin at this time was a handsome man of forty, with curly black hair and a red mouth. The idolization of nations had not spoilt him; he was a kind-hearted person and honest toward himself.
    He went straight to the yellow house, gave his name—which told the Dean nothing—and explained that he was staying in Berlevaag for his health, and the while would be happy to take on the young lady as a pupil.
    He did not mention the Opera of Paris, but described at length how beautifully Miss Philippa would come to sing in church, to the glory of God.
    For a moment he forgot himself, for when the Dean asked whether he was a Roman Catholic he answered according totruth, and the old clergyman, who had never seen a live Roman Catholic, grew a little pale. All the same the Dean was pleased to speak French, which reminded him of his young days when he had studied the works of the great French Lutheran writer, Lefèvre d’Etaples. And as nobody could long withstand Achille Papin when he had really set his heart on a matter, in the end the father gave his consent, and remarked to his daughter: “God’s paths run across the sea and the snowy mountains, where man’s eye sees no track.”
    So the great French singer and the young Norwegian novice set to work together. Achille’s expectation grew into certainty and his certainty into ecstasy. He thought: “I have been wrong in believing that I was growing old. My greatest triumphs are before me! The world will once more believe in miracles when she and I sing together!”
    After a while he could not keep his dreams to himself, but told Philippa about them.
    She would, he said, rise like a star above any diva of the past or present. The Emperor and Empress, the Princes, great ladies and
bels esprits
of Paris would listen to her, and shed tears. The common people too would worship her, and she would bring consolation and strength to the wronged and oppressed. When she left the Grand Opera upon her master’s arm, the crowd would unharness her horses, and themselves draw her to the Café Anglais, where a magnificent supper awaited her.
    Philippa did not repeat these prospects to her father or her sister, and this was the first time in her life that she had had a secret from them.
    The teacher now gave his pupil the part of Zerlina in Mozart’s opera
Don Giovanni
to study. He himself, as often before, sang Don Giovanni’s part.
    He had never in his life sung as now. In the duet of the second act—which is called the seduction duet—he was swept off his feet by the heavenly music and the heavenly voices. As the last melting note died away he