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its usual size by lifting off the frame and tearing down a bit
of the frail wall on either side, and through this opening
he was leading the animals, one by either hand. They were
crazed with the smoke, and when the stinging, flickering
light of the flames met their eyes, they reared wildly and
threw themselves to one side, until it seemed the man must
be torn to pieces or be trampled down between the powerful
brutes. Yet he neither fell nor lost his hold; he forced their
noses down on the ground and ran with them, half driving,
half dragging them, across the courtyard to the gate of the
garden, where he let them go.
There were many horses at Tjele, and Marie had plenty
of time to admire that beautiful, gigantic form in changing
postures, as he struggled with the spirited animals, one
moment hanging from a straight arm, almost lifted from the
ground by a rearing stallion, the next instant thrown
violently down and gripping the earth with his feet, then again
urging them on by leaps and bounds, always with the same
peculiarly quiet, firm, elastic movements seen only in very
strong men. His short cotton breeches and blue-gray shirt
looked yellow where the light fell on them but black in the
shadows, and outlined sharply the vigorous frame making a
fine, simple background for the ruddy face with its soft, fair
down on lip and chin, and the great shock of blonde hair.
This giant of two-and-twenty was known as Sören
Overseer. His real name was Sören Sörensen Möller, but the
title had come down to him from his father, who had been
overseer on a manor in Hvornum.
The horses were all brought out at last. The stable burned
to the ground, and when the fire still smouldering on the site
had been put out, the servants went to get a little morning
nap after a wakeful night.
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