Small Catechism 第7章

TheraysofthesunshiningbrightlyintotheroomawokeSintram，andraisinghimselfup，helookedangrilyatthechaplain，andsaid，"Sothereisapriestinthecastle!Andyetthataccurseddreamcontinuestotormentmeeveninhisverypresence.Prettypriesthemustbe!""Mychild，"answeredthechaplaininthemildesttone，"Ihaveprayedfortheemostfervently，andIshallneverceasedoingso--butGodaloneisAlmighty.""YouspeakveryboldlytothesonoftheknightBiorn，"criedSintra"Mychild!Ifthosehorribledreamshadnotbeenagainhauntingme，youwouldmakemelaughheartily.""YoungLordSintram，"saidthechaplain，"Iambynomeanssurprisedthatyoudonotknowmeagain;forintruth，neitherdoIknowyouagain."Andhiseyesfilledwithtearsashespoke.

ThegoodRolflookedsorrowfullyintheboysface，saying，"Ah，mydearyoungmaster，youaresomuchbetterthanyouwouldmakepeoplebelieve.Whydoyouthat?Yourmemoryissogood，thatyoumustsurelyrecollectyourkindoldfriendthechaplain，whousedformerlytobeconstantlyatthecastle，andtobringyousomanygifts--brightpicturesofsaints，andbeautifulsongs?""Iknowallthatverywell，"repliedSintramthoughtfully."Mysaintedmotherwasaliveinthosedays.""Ourgraciousladyisstillliving，Godbepraised，"saidthegoodRolf.

"Butshedoesnotliveforus，poorsickcreaturesthatweare!"criedSintra"Andwhywillyounotcallhersainted?Surelysheknowsnothingaboutmydreams?""Yes，shedoesknowofthem，"saidthechaplain;"andshepraystoGodforyou.Buttakeheed，andrestrainthatwild，haughtytemperofyours.Itmight，indeed，cometopassthatshewouldknownothingaboutyourdreams，andthatwouldbeifyoursoulwereseparatedfromyourbody;andthentheholyangelsalsowouldceasetoknowanythingofyou."Sintramfellbackonhisbedasifthunderstruck;andRolfsaid，withagentlesigh，"Youshouldnotspeaksoseverelytomypoorsickchild，reverendsir."Theboysatup，andwithtearfuleyesheturnedcaressinglytowardsthechaplain:"Lethimdoashepleases，yougood，tender-heartedRolf;heknowsverywellwhatheisabout.WouldyoureprovehimifIwereslippingdownasnow-cleft，andhecaughtmeuproughlybythehairofmyhead?"Thepriestlookedtenderlyathim，andwouldhavespokenhisholythoughts，whenSintramsuddenlysprangoffthebedandaskedafterhisfather.Assoonasheheardoftheknightsdeparture，hewouldnotremainanotherhourinthecastle;andputasidethefearsofthechaplainandtheoldesquire，lestarapidjourneyshouldinjurehishardlyrestoredhealth，bysayingtothem，"Believeme，reverendsir，anddearoldRolf，ifIwerenotsubjecttothesehideousdreams，therewouldnotbeabolderyouthinthewholeworld;andevenasitis，Iamnotsofarbehindtheverybest.Besides，tillanotheryearhaspassed，mydreamsareatanend."OnhissomewhatimperioussignRolfbroughtoutthehorses.Theboythrewhimselfboldlyintothesaddle，andtakingacourteousleaveofthechaplain，hedashedalongthefrozenvalleythatlaybetweenthesnow-cladmountains.Hehadnotriddenfar，incompanywithhisoldattendant，whenheheardastrangeindistinctsoundproceedingfromaneighbouringcleftintherock;itwaspartlyliketheclapperofasmallmill，butmingledwiththatwerehollowgroansandothertonesofdistress.Thithertheyturnedtheirhorses，andawonderfulsightshoweditselftothe

Atallman，deadlypale，inapilgrimsgarb，wasstrivingwithviolentthoughunsuccessfulefforts，toworkhiswayoutofthesnowandtoclimbupthemountain;andtherebyaquantityofbones，whichwerehanginglooselyallabouthisgarments，rattledoneagainsttheother，andcausedthemysterioussoundalreadymentioned.Rolf，muchterrified，crossedhimself，whiletheboldSintramcalledouttothestranger，"Whatartthoudoingthere?Giveanaccountofthysolitarylabours.""Iliveindeath，"repliedthatotheronewithafearfulgrin.

"Whosearethosebonesonthyclothes?"

"Theyarerelics，youngsir."

"Artthouapilgrim?"