After a few minutes they again approached the bed,
and spoke thus:--
"It is now getting dark, please your majesty. We mean, out of doors in
the snow. Your majesty may see, from where he is lying, the cold light
of its great winding-sheet--a famous carpet for the Shadows to dance
upon, your majesty. All our brothers and sisters will be at church now,
before going to their night's work."
"Do they always go to church before they go to work?"
"They always go to church first."
"Where is the church?"
"In Iceland. Would your majesty like to see it?"
"How can I go and see it, when, as you know very well, I am ill in bed?
Besides, I should be sure to take cold in a frosty night like this,
even if I put on the blankets, and took the feather-bed for a muff."
A sort of quivering passed over their faces, which seemed to be their
mode of laughing. The whole shape of the face shook and fluctuated as
if it had been some dark fluid; till by slow degrees of gathering calm,
it settled into its former rest. Then one of them drew aside the
curtains of the bed, and the window-curtains not having been yet drawn,
the king beheld the white glimmering night outside, struggling with the
heaps of darkness that tried to quench it; and the heavens full of
stars, flashing and sparkling like live jewels. The other Shadow went
towards the fire and vanished in it.
Scores of Shadows immediately began an insane dance all about the room;
disappearing, one after the other, through the uncovered window, and
gliding darkly away over the face of the white snow; for the window
looked at once on a field of snow.
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