THE SHADOW


    IN very hot climates, where the heat of the sun has great
power, people are usually as brown as mahogany; and in the
hottest countries they are negroes, with black skins. A
learned man once travelled into one of these warm climates,
from the cold regions of the north, and thought he would roam
about as he did at home; but he soon had to change his
opinion. He found that, like all sensible people, he must
remain in the house during the whole day, with every window
and door closed, so that it looked as if all in the house were
asleep or absent. The houses of the narrow street in which he
lived were so lofty that the sun shone upon them from morning
till evening, and it became quite unbearable. This learned man
from the cold regions was young as well as clever; but it
seemed to him as if he were sitting in an oven, and he became
quite exhausted and weak, and grew so thin that his shadow
shrivelled up, and became much smaller than it had been at
home. The sun took away even what was left of it, and he saw
nothing of it till the evening, after sunset. It was really a
pleasure, as soon as the lights were brought into the room, to
see the shadow stretch itself against the wall, even to the
ceiling, so tall was it; and it really wanted a good stretch
to recover its strength. The learned man would sometimes go
out into the balcony to stretch himself also; and as soon as
the stars came forth in the clear, beautiful sky, he felt
revived. People at this hour began to make their appearance in
all the balconies in the street; for in warm climates every
window has a balcony, in which they can breathe the fresh
evening air, which is very necessary, even to those who are
used to a heat that makes them as brown as mahogany; so that
the street presented a very lively appearance. Here were
shoemakers, and tailors, and all sorts of people sitting. In
the street beneath, they brought out tables and chairs,
lighted candles by hundreds, talked and sang, and were very
merry. There were people walking, carriages driving, and mules
trotting along, with their bells on the harness, "tingle,
tingle," as they went. Then the dead were carried to the grave
with the sound of solemn music, and the tolling of the church
bells. It was indeed a scene of varied life in the street. One
house only, which was just opposite to the one in which the
foreign learned man lived, formed a contrast to all this, for
it was quite still; and yet somebody dwelt there, for flowers
stood in the balcony, blooming beautifully in the hot sun; and
this could not have been unless they had been watered
carefully. Therefore some one must be in the house to do this.
The doors leading to the balcony were half opened in the
evening; and although in the front room all was dark, music
could be heard from the interior of the house. The foreign
learned man considered this music very delightful; but perhaps
he fancied it; for everything in these warm countries pleased
him, excepting the heat of the sun. The foreign landlord said
he did not know who had taken the opposite house- nobody was
to be seen there; and as to the music, he thought it seemed
very tedious, to him most uncommonly so.

    "It is just as if some one was practising a piece that he
could not manage; it is always the same piece. He thinks, I
suppose, that he will be able to manage it at last; but I do
not think so, however long he may play it."

    Once the foreigner woke in the night. He slept with the
door open which led to the balcony; the wind had raised the
curtain before it, and there appeared a wonderful brightness
over all in the balcony of the opposite house. The flowers
seemed like flames of the most gorgeous colors, and among the
flowers stood a beautiful slender maiden. It was to him as if
light streamed from her, and dazzled his eyes; but then he had
only just opened them, as he awoke from his sleep. With one
spring he was out of bed, and crept softly behind the curtain.
But she was gone- the brightness had disappeared; the flowers
no longer appeared like flames, although still as beautiful as
ever. The door stood ajar, and from an inner room sounded
music so sweet and so lovely, that it produced the most
enchanting thoughts, and acted on the senses with magic power.
Who could live there? Where was the real entrance? for, both
in the street and in the lane at the side, the whole ground
floor was a continuation of shops; and people could not always
be passing through them.

    One evening the foreigner sat in the balcony. A light was
burning in his own room, just behind him. It was quite
natural, therefore, that his shadow should fall on the wall of
the opposite house; so that, as he sat amongst the flowers on
his balcony, when he moved, his shadow moved also.

    "I think my shadow is the only living thing to be seen
opposite," said the learned man; "see how pleasantly it sits
among the flowers. The door is only ajar; the shadow ought to
be clever enough to step in and look about him, and then to
come back and tell me what he has seen. You could make
yourself useful in this way," said he, jokingly; "be so good
as to step in now, will you?" and then he nodded to the
shadow, and the shadow nodded in return. "Now go, but don't
stay away altogether."

    Then the foreigner stood up, and the shadow on the
opposite balcony stood up also; the foreigner turned round,
the shadow turned; and if any one had observed, they might
have seen it go straight into the half-opened door of the
opposite balcony, as the learned man re-entered his own room,
and let the curtain fall. The next morning he went out to take
his coffee and read the newspapers.

    "How is this?" he exclaimed, as he stood in the sunshine.
"I have lost my shadow. So it really did go away yesterday
evening, and it has not returned. This is very annoying."

    And it certainly did vex him, not so much because the
shadow was gone, but because he knew there was a story of a
man without a shadow. All the people at home, in his country,
knew this story; and when he returned, and related his own
adventures, they would say it was only an imitation; and he
had no desire for such things to be said of him. So he decided
not to speak of it at all, which was a very sensible
determination.

    In the evening he went out again on his balcony, taking
care to place the light behind him; for he knew that a shadow
always wants his master for a screen; but he could not entice
him out. He made himself little, and he made himself tall; but
there was no shadow, and no shadow came. He said, "Hem,
a-hem;" but it was all useless. That was very vexatious; but
in warm countries everything grows very quickly; and, after a
week had passed, he saw, to his great joy, that a new shadow
was growing from his feet, when he walked in the sunshine; so
that the root must have remained. After three weeks, he had
quite a respectable shadow, which, during his return journey
to northern lands, continued to grow, and became at last so
large that he might very well have spared half of it. When
this learned man arrived at home, he wrote books about the
true, the good, and the beautiful, which are to be found in
this world; and so days and years passed- many, many years.

    One evening, as he sat in his study, a very gentle tap was
heard at the door. "Come in," said he; but no one came. He
opened the door, and there stood before him a man so
remarkably thin that he felt seriously troubled at his
appearance. He was, however, very well dressed, and looked
like a gentleman. "To whom have I the honor of speaking?" said
he.

    "Ah, I hoped you would recognize me," said the elegant
stranger; "I have gained so much that I have a body of flesh,
and clothes to wear. You never expected to see me in such a
condition. Do you not recognize your old shadow? Ah, you never
expected that I should return to you again. All has been
prosperous with me since I was with you last; I have become
rich in every way, and, were I inclined to purchase my freedom
from service, I could easily do so." And as he spoke he
rattled between his fingers a number of costly trinkets which
hung to a thick gold watch-chain he wore round his neck.
Diamond rings sparkled on his fingers, and it was all real.

    "I cannot recover from my astonishment," said the learned
man. "What does all this mean?"

    "Something rather unusual," said the shadow; "but you are
yourself an uncommon man, and you know very well that I have
followed in your footsteps ever since your childhood. As soon
as you found that I have travelled enough to be trusted alone,
I went my own way, and I am now in the most brilliant
circumstances. But I felt a kind of longing to see you once
more before you die, and I wanted to see this place again, for
there is always a clinging to the land of one's birth. I know
that you have now another shadow; do I owe you anything? If
so, have the goodness to say what it is."

    "No! Is it really you?" said the learned man. "Well, this
is most remarkable; I never supposed it possible that a man's
old shadow could become a human being."

    "Just tell me what I owe you," said the shadow, "for I do
not like to be in debt to any man."

    "How can you talk in that manner?" said the learned man.
"What question of debt can there be between us? You are as
free as any one. I rejoice exceedingly to hear of your good
fortune. Sit down, old friend, and tell me a little of how it
happened, and what you saw in the house opposite to me while
we were in those hot climates."

    "Yes, I will tell you all about it," said the shadow,
sitting down; "but then you must promise me never to tell in
this city, wherever you may meet me, that I have been your
shadow. I am thinking of being married, for I have more than
sufficient to support a family."

    "Make yourself quite easy," said the learned man; "I will
tell no one who you really are. Here is my hand,- I promise,
and a word is sufficient between man and man."

    "Between man and a shadow," said the shadow; for he could
not help saying so.

    It was really most remarkable how very much he had become
a man in appearance. He was dressed in a suit of the very
finest black cloth, polished boots, and an opera crush hat,
which could be folded together so that nothing could be seen
but the crown and the rim, besides the trinkets, the gold
chain, and the diamond rings already spoken of. The shadow
was, in fact, very well dressed, and this made a man of him.
"Now I will relate to you what you wish to know," said the
shadow, placing his foot with the polished leather boot as
firmly as possible on the arm of the new shadow of the learned
man, which lay at his feet like a poodle dog. This was done,
it might be from pride, or perhaps that the new shadow might
cling to him, but the prostrate shadow remained quite quiet
and at rest, in order that it might listen, for it wanted to
know how a shadow could be sent away by its master, and become
a man itself. "Do you know," said the shadow, "that in the
house opposite to you lived the most glorious creature in the
world? It was poetry. I remained there three weeks, and it was
more like three thousand years, for I read all that has ever
been written in poetry or prose; and I may say, in truth, that
I saw and learnt everything."

    "Poetry!" exclaimed the learned man. "Yes, she lives as a
hermit in great cities. Poetry! Well, I saw her once for a
very short moment, while sleep weighed down my eyelids. She
flashed upon me from the balcony like the radiant aurora
borealis, surrounded with flowers like flames of fire. Tell
me, you were on the balcony that evening; you went through the
door, and what did you see?"

    "I found myself in an ante-room," said the shadow. "You
still sat opposite to me, looking into the room. There was no
light, or at least it seemed in partial darkness, for the door
of a whole suite of rooms stood open, and they were
brilliantly lighted. The blaze of light would have killed me,
had I approached too near the maiden myself, but I was
cautious, and took time, which is what every one ought to do."

    "And what didst thou see?" asked the learned man.

    "I saw everything, as you shall hear. But- it really is
not pride on my part, as a free man and possessing the
knowledge that I do, besides my position, not to speak of my
wealth- I wish you would say you to me instead of thou."

    "I beg your pardon," said the learned man; "it is an old
habit, which it is difficult to break. You are quite right; I
will try to think of it. But now tell me everything that you
saw."

    "Everything," said the shadow; "for I saw and know
everything."

    "What was the appearance of the inner rooms?" asked the
scholar. "Was it there like a cool grove, or like a holy
temple? Were the chambers like a starry sky seen from the top
of a high mountain?"

    "It was all that you describe," said the shadow; "but I
did not go quite in- I remained in the twilight of the
ante-room- but I was in a very good position,- I could see and
hear all that was going on in the court of poetry."

    "But what did you see? Did the gods of ancient times pass
through the rooms? Did old heroes fight their battles over
again? Were there lovely children at play, who related their
dreams?"

    "I tell you I have been there, and therefore you may be
sure that I saw everything that was to be seen. If you had
gone there, you would not have remained a human being, whereas
I became one; and at the same moment I became aware of my
inner being, my inborn affinity to the nature of poetry. It is
true I did not think much about it while I was with you, but
you will remember that I was always much larger at sunrise and
sunset, and in the moonlight even more visible than yourself,
but I did not then understand my inner existence. In the
ante-room it was revealed to me. I became a man; I came out in
full maturity. But you had left the warm countries. As a man,
I felt ashamed to go about without boots or clothes, and that
exterior finish by which man is known. So I went my own way; I
can tell you, for you will not put it in a book. I hid myself
under the cloak of a cake woman, but she little thought who
she concealed. It was not till evening that I ventured out. I
ran about the streets in the moonlight. I drew myself up to my
full height upon the walls, which tickled my back very
pleasantly. I ran here and there, looked through the highest
windows into the rooms, and over the roofs. I looked in, and
saw what nobody else could see, or indeed ought to see; in
fact, it is a bad world, and I would not care to be a man, but
that men are of some importance. I saw the most miserable
things going on between husbands and wives, parents and
children,- sweet, incomparable children. I have seen what no
human being has the power of knowing, although they would all
be very glad to know- the evil conduct of their neighbors. Had
I written a newspaper, how eagerly it would have been read!
Instead of which, I wrote directly to the persons themselves,
and great alarm arose in all the town I visited. They had so
much fear of me, and yet how dearly they loved me. The
professor made me a professor. The tailor gave me new clothes;
I am well provided for in that way. The overseer of the mint
struck coins for me. The women declared that I was handsome,
and so I became the man you now see me. And now I must say
adieu. Here is my card. I live on the sunny side of the
street, and always stay at home in rainy weather." And the
shadow departed.

    "This is all very remarkable," said the learned man.

    Years passed, days and years went by, and the shadow came
again. "How are you going on now?" he asked.

    "Ah!" said the learned man; "I am writing about the true,
the beautiful, and the good; but no one cares to hear anything
about it. I am quite in despair, for I take it to heart very
much."

    "That is what I never do," said the shadow; "I am growing
quite fat and stout, which every one ought to be. You do not
understand the world; you will make yourself ill about it; you
ought to travel; I am going on a journey in the summer, will
you go with me? I should like a travelling companion; will you
travel with me as my shadow? It would give me great pleasure,
and I will pay all expenses."

    "Are you going to travel far?" asked the learned man.

    "That is a matter of opinion," replied the shadow. "At all
events, a journey will do you good, and if you will be my
shadow, then all your journey shall be paid."

    "It appears to me very absurd," said the learned man.

    "But it is the way of the world," replied the shadow, "and
always will be." Then he went away.

    Everything went wrong with the learned man. Sorrow and
trouble pursued him, and what he said about the good, the
beautiful, and the true, was of as much value to most people
as a nutmeg would be to a cow. At length he fell ill. "You
really look like a shadow," people said to him, and then a
cold shudder would pass over him, for he had his own thoughts
on the subject.

    "You really ought to go to some watering-place," said the
shadow on his next visit. "There is no other chance for you. I
will take you with me, for the sake of old acquaintance. I
will pay the expenses of your journey, and you shall write a
description of it to amuse us by the way. I should like to go
to a watering-place; my beard does not grow as it ought, which
is from weakness, and I must have a beard. Now do be sensible
and accept my proposal; we shall travel as intimate friends."

    And at last they started together. The shadow was master
now, and the master became the shadow. They drove together,
and rode and walked in company with each other, side by side,
or one in front and the other behind, according to the
position of the sun. The shadow always knew when to take the
place of honor, but the learned man took no notice of it, for
he had a good heart, and was exceedingly mild and friendly.

    One day the master said to the shadow, "We have grown up
together from our childhood, and now that we have become
travelling companions, shall we not drink to our good
fellowship, and say thee and thou to each other?"

    "What you say is very straightforward and kindly meant,"
said the shadow, who was now really master. "I will be equally
kind and straightforward. You are a learned man, and know how
wonderful human nature is. There are some men who cannot
endure the smell of brown paper; it makes them ill. Others
will feel a shuddering sensation to their very marrow, if a
nail is scratched on a pane of glass. I myself have a similar
kind of feeling when I hear any one say thou to me. I feel
crushed by it, as I used to feel in my former position with
you. You will perceive that this is a matter of feeling, not
pride. I cannot allow you to say thou to me; I will gladly say
it to you, and therefore your wish will be half fulfilled."
Then the shadow addressed his former master as thou.

    "It is going rather too far," said the latter, "that I am
to say you when I speak to him, and he is to say thou to me."
However, he was obliged to submit.

    They arrived at length at the baths, where there were many
strangers, and among them a beautiful princess, whose real
disease consisted in being too sharp-sighted, which made every
one very uneasy. She saw at once that the new comer was very
different to every one else. "They say he is here to make his
beard grow," she thought; "but I know the real cause, he is
unable to cast a shadow." Then she became very curious on the
matter, and one day, while on the promenade, she entered into
conversation with the strange gentleman. Being a princess, she
was not obliged to stand upon much ceremony, so she said to
him without hesitation, "Your illness consists in not being
able to cast a shadow."

    "Your royal highness must be on the high road to recovery
from your illness," said he. "I know your complaint arose from
being too sharp-sighted, and in this case it has entirely
failed. I happen to have a most unusual shadow. Have you not
seen a person who is always at my side? Persons often give
their servants finer cloth for their liveries than for their
own clothes, and so I have dressed out my shadow like a man;
nay, you may observe that I have even given him a shadow of
his own; it is rather expensive, but I like to have things
about me that are peculiar."

    "How is this?" thought the princess; "am I really cured?
This must be the best watering-place in existence. Water in
our times has certainly wonderful power. But I will not leave
this place yet, just as it begins to be amusing. This foreign
prince- for he must be a prince- pleases me above all things.
I only hope his beard won't grow, or he will leave at once."

    In the evening, the princess and the shadow danced
together in the large assembly rooms. She was light, but he
was lighter still; she had never seen such a dancer before.
She told him from what country she had come, and found he knew
it and had been there, but not while she was at home. He had
looked into the windows of her father's palace, both the upper
and the lower windows; he had seen many things, and could
therefore answer the princess, and make allusions which quite
astonished her. She thought he must be the cleverest man in
all the world, and felt the greatest respect for his
knowledge. When she danced with him again she fell in love
with him, which the shadow quickly discovered, for she had
with her eyes looked him through and through. They danced once
more, and she was nearly telling him, but she had some
discretion; she thought of her country, her kingdom, and the
number of people over whom she would one day have to rule. "He
is a clever man," she thought to herself, "which is a good
thing, and he dances admirably, which is also good. But has he
well-grounded knowledge? that is an important question, and I
must try him." Then she asked him a most difficult question,
she herself could not have answered it, and the shadow made a
most unaccountable grimace.

    "You cannot answer that," said the princess.

    "I learnt something about it in my childhood," he replied;
"and believe that even my very shadow, standing over there by
the door, could answer it."

    "Your shadow," said the princess; "indeed that would be
very remarkable."

    "I do not say so positively," observed the shadow; "but I
am inclined to believe that he can do so. He has followed me
for so many years, and has heard so much from me, that I think
it is very likely. But your royal highness must allow me to
observe, that he is very proud of being considered a man, and
to put him in a good humor, so that he may answer correctly,
he must be treated as a man."

    "I shall be very pleased to do so," said the princess. So
she walked up to the learned man, who stood in the doorway,
and spoke to him of the sun, and the moon, of the green
forests, and of people near home and far off; and the learned
man conversed with her pleasantly and sensibly.

    "What a wonderful man he must be, to have such a clever
shadow!" thought she. "If I were to choose him it would be a
real blessing to my country and my subjects, and I will do
it." So the princess and the shadow were soon engaged to each
other, but no one was to be told a word about it, till she
returned to her kingdom.

    "No one shall know," said the shadow; "not even my own
shadow;" and he had very particular reasons for saying so.

    After a time, the princess returned to the land over which
she reigned, and the shadow accompanied her.

    "Listen my friend," said the shadow to the learned man;
"now that I am as fortunate and as powerful as any man can be,
I will do something unusually good for you. You shall live in
my palace, drive with me in the royal carriage, and have a
hundred thousand dollars a year; but you must allow every one
to call you a shadow, and never venture to say that you have
been a man. And once a year, when I sit in my balcony in the
sunshine, you must lie at my feet as becomes a shadow to do;
for I must tell you I am going to marry the princess, and our
wedding will take place this evening."

    "Now, really, this is too ridiculous," said the learned
man. "I cannot, and will not, submit to such folly. It would
be cheating the whole country, and the princess also. I will
disclose everything, and say that I am the man, and that you
are only a shadow dressed up in men's clothes."

    "No one would believe you," said the shadow; "be
reasonable, now, or I will call the guards."

    "I will go straight to the princess," said the learned
man.

    "But I shall be there first," replied the shadow, "and you
will be sent to prison." And so it turned out, for the guards
readily obeyed him, as they knew he was going to marry the
king's daughter.

    "You tremble," said the princess, when the shadow appeared
before her. "Has anything happened? You must not be ill
to-day, for this evening our wedding will take place."

    "I have gone through the most terrible affair that could
possibly happen," said the shadow; "only imagine, my shadow
has gone mad; I suppose such a poor, shallow brain, could not
bear much; he fancies that he has become a real man, and that
I am his shadow."

    "How very terrible," cried the princess; "is he locked
up?"

    "Oh yes, certainly; for I fear he will never recover."

    "Poor shadow!" said the princess; "it is very unfortunate
for him; it would really be a good deed to free him from his
frail existence; and, indeed, when I think how often people
take the part of the lower class against the higher, in these
days, it would be policy to put him out of the way quietly."

    "It is certainly rather hard upon him, for he was a
faithful servant," said the shadow; and he pretended to sigh.

    "Yours is a noble character," said the princess, and bowed
herself before him.

    In the evening the whole town was illuminated, and cannons
fired "boom," and the soldiers presented arms. It was indeed a
grand wedding. The princess and the shadow stepped out on the
balcony to show themselves, and to receive one cheer more. But
the learned man heard nothing of all these festivities, for he
had already been
executed.


                            THE END