DANISH FAIRY AND FOLK TALES
"They dare not do it. There is justice in the land, and I am exonerated. No one shall scowl at me."
Steps sound and resound in the spacious halls outside; at length a rap at the door starts Number 101 from his revery. At nine o'clock the light is made out; it is time to go to bed, and the prisoner knows it.
At nine sharp Number 101 is in bed, like all other prisoners. The light goes out, and darkness rolls its mask down over the lonely man. But thoughts will roam about, so far and wide, until one little figure after another finds its way in under the mask, and carry the sleeper's spirit away into dreamland.
No man or woman can ever blot out—
The little twinkling star lifts the dark veil, and sheds its silver rays upon the figure in the narrow bed, in the narrow room, behind the high walls.
Prisoner Number 101 has gone to sleep with a smile upon his face, dreaming that he has returned to baby, for whom he brings a new lambkin with beautiful, white wool, and a golden collar.
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