ANNE Lisbeth had a colour like milk and blood；young and merry，she looked beautiful，with gleaming white teeth and clear eyes；her footstep was light in the dance，and her mind was lighter still．And what came of it all？Her son was an ugly brat！Yes，he was not pretty；so he was put out to be nursed by the labourer's wife．
Anne Lisbeth was taken into the count's castle，and sat there in the splendid room arrayed in silks and velvets；not a breath of wind might blow upon her，and no one was allowed to speak a harsh word to her．No，that might not be，for she was nurse to the count's child，who was delicate and fair as a prince，and beautiful as an angel；and how she loved this child！Her own boy was provided for at the labourer's，where the mouth boiled over more frequently than the pot，and where，in general，no one was at home．Then he would cry；but what nobody knows，that nobody cares for；and he would cry till he was tired，and then he fell asleep；and in sleep one feels neither hunger nor thirst．A capital invention is sleep．
With years，just as weeds shoot up，Anne Lisbeth's child grew，but yet they said his growth was stunted；but he had quite become a member of the family in which he dwelt；they had received money to keep him．Anne Lisbeth was rid of him for good．She had become a town lady，and had a comfortable home of her own；and out of doors she wore a bonnet when she went out for a walk；but she never walked out to see the labourer—that was too far from the town；and indeed she had nothing to go for：the boy belonged to the labouring people，and she said he could eat his food，and he should do something to earn his food，and consequently he kept Mads Jensen's red cow．He could already tend cattle and make himself useful．
The big dog，by the yard gate of the nobleman's mansion，sits proudly in the sunshine on the top of the kennel，and barks at every one who goes by；if it rains he creeps into his house，and there he is warm and dry．Anne Lisbeth's boy sat in the sunshine on the fence of the field，and cut out a tether－peg．In the spring he knew of three strawberry plants that were in blossom，and would certainly bear fruit，and that was his most hopeful thought；but they came to nothing．He sat out in the rain in foul weather，and was wet to the skin，and afterwards the cold wind dried the clothes on his back．When he came to the farm-yard he was hustled and cuffed，for the men and maids declared he was horribly ugly；but he was used to that—loved by no－boby！
That was how it went with Anne Lisbeth's boy；and how could it go otherwise？It was，once for all，his fate to be loved by nobody．
From the land he was thrown overboard．He went to sea in a wretched vessel，and sat by the helm，while the skipper drank．He was dirty and ugly，half frozen and half starved：one would have thought he had never had enough；and that really was the case．
It was late in autumn：rough，wet，windy weather；the wind cut cold through the thickest clothing，especially at sea；and out to sea went a wretched boat，with only two men on board，or，properly speaking，with only a man and a half，the skipper and his boy．It had only been a kind of twilight all day，and now it became dark，and it was bitterly cold．The skipper drank a dram，which was to warm him from within．The bottle was old，and the glass too；it was whole at the top，but the foot was broken off，and therefore it stood upon a little carved block of wood painted blue．“A dram comforts one，and two are better still，”thought the skipper．The boy sat at the helm，which he held fast in his hard tarry hands：he was ugly，and his hair was matted，and he looked crippled and stunted；he was the field－labjourer's boy，though in the church register he was entered as Anne Lisbeth's son．
The wind cut its through the rigging，and the boat cut though the sea．The sail blew out，filled by the wind，and they drove on in wild career．It was rough and wet around and above，and it might come worse still．Hold！What was that？What struck there？
What burst？What seized the boat？It heeled，and lay on its beam ends！Was it a waterspout？Was it a heavy sea coming suddenly down？The boy at the helm cried out aloud，“Heaven help us！”The boat had struck on a great rock standing up from the depths of the sea，and it sank like an old shoe in a puddle；it sank“with man and mouse，as the saying is；and there were mice on board，but only one man and a half，the skipper and the labourer's boy．
No one saw it but the screaming seagulls，and the fishes down below，and even they did not see it rightly，for they started back in terror when the water rushed into the ship，and it sank．There it lay scarce a fathom below the surface，and those two were provided for，buried and forgotten！Only the glass with the foot of blue wood did not sink，for the wood kept it up；the glass drifted away，to be broken and cast upon the shore—where and when？But，indeed，that is of no consequence．It had served its time，and it had been loved，which Anne Lisbeth's boy had not been．But in Heaven no soul will be able to say，“Never loved！”
Anne Lisbeth had lived in the city for many years．She was called Madam，and felt her dignity，when she remembered the old“noble”days in which she had driven in the carriage，and had associated with countesses and baronesses．Her beautiful noble－child was the dearest an－gel，the kindest heart；he had loved her so much，and she had loved him in return；they had kissed and loved each other，and the boy had been her joy，her second life．Now he was so tall，and was fourteen years old，handsome and clever：she had not seen him since she carried him in her arms；for many years she had not been in the count's palace，for indeed it was quite a journey thither．
“I must once make an effort and go，”said Anne Lisbeth．“I must go to my darling，to my sweet count's child．Yes，he certainly must long to see me too；he thinks of me and loves me as in those days when he flung his angel arms round my neck and cried，‘Anne Liz！’It sounded like music．Yes，I must make an effort and see him again．”
She drove across the country in a grazier's cart，and then got out and continued her journey on foot，and thus reached the count's castle．It was great and magnificent，as it had always been，and the garden looked the same as ever；but all the people there were strangers to her；not one of them knew Anne Lisbeth，and they did not know of what consequence she had once been there，but she felt sure the countess would let them know it，an her darling boy too．How she longed to see him！
Now Anne Lisbeth was at her journey's end．She was kept waiting a considerable time，and for those who wait time passes slowly．But before the great people went to table she was called in，and accosted very graciously．She was to see her sweet boy after dinner，and then she was to be called in again．
How tall and slender and thin he had grown！But he had still his beautiful eyes and the angel－sweet mouth！He looked at her，but he said not a word：certainly he did not know her．He turned round，and was about to go away，but she seized his hand and pressed it to her mouth．
“Good，good！”said he；and with that he went out of the room—he who filled her every thought—he whom she had loved best，and who was her whole earthly pride．
Anne Lisbeth went out of the castle into the open highway，and she felt very mournful：he had been so cold and strange to her，had not a word nor a thought for her，he whom she had once carried day and night，and whom she still carried in her dreams．
A great black raven shot down in front of her on to the high road，and croaked and croaked again．
“Ha！”she said，“what bird of ill omen art thou？”
She came past the hut of the labourer；the wife stood at the door，and the two women spoke to one another．
“You look well，”said the woman．“You are plump and fat；you're well off．”
“Oh，yes，”answered Anne Lisbeth．
“The boat went down with them，”continued the woman．“The skipper and the boy were both drowned．There's an end of them．I always thought the boy would be able to help me out with a few dollars．He'll never cost you anything more，Anne Lisbeth．”
“So they were drowned？Anne Lisbeth repeated；and then nothing more was said on the subject．
Anne Lisbeth was very low－spirited because her count-child had shown no disposition to talk with her who loved him so well，and who had journeyed all that way to get a sight of him；and the journey had cost money too，though the pleasure she had derived from it was not great．Still she said not a word about this．She would not relieve her heart by telling the labourer's wife about it，lest the latter should think she did not enjoy her former position at the castle．Then the raven screamed again，and flew past over her once more．
“The black wretch！”said Anne Lisbeth；“he'll end by frightening me today．”
She had brought coffee and chicory with her，for she thought it would be a charity to the poor woman to give them to her to boil a cup of coffee，and then she herself would take a cup too．The woman prepared the coffee，and in the meantime Anne Lisbeth sat down upon a chair and fell asleep．There she dreamed of something she had never dreamed before：singularly enough，she dreamed of her own child that had wept and hungered there in the labourer's hut，had been hustled about in heat and in cold，and was now lying in the depths of the sea，Heaven knows where．She dreamed she was sitting in the hut，where the woman was busy preparing the coffee—she could smell the coffee－beans roasting．But suddenly it seemed to her that there stood on the threshold a beautiful young form，as beautiful as the count's child；and this apparition said to her，
“The world is passing away！Hold fast to me，for you are my mother after all．You have an angel in heaven．Hold me fast！”
And he stretched out his hand to her；and there was a terrible crash，for the world was going to pieces，and the angel was raising himself above the earth，and holding her by the sleeve so tightly，it seemed to her，that she was lifted up from the ground；but，on the other hand，something heavy hung at her feet and dragged her down，and it seemed to her that hundreds of women clung to her，and cried．
“If thou art to be saved，we must be saved too！Hold fast！Hold fast！”
And then they all hung on to her；but there were too many of them，and—ritsch！ratch！—the sleeve tore，and Anne Lisbeth fell down in horror—and awoke．And，indeed，she was on the point of falling over with the chair on which she sat；she was so startled and alarmed that she could not recollect what it was she had dreamed，but she remembered that it had been something dreadful．
The coffee was taken，and they had a chat together and then Anne Lisbeth went away towards the little town where she was to meet the carrier，and to drive back with him to her own home．But when she came to speak to him，he said he should not be ready to start before the evening of the next day．She began to think about the expense and the length of the way，and when she considered that the route by the sea-shore was shorter by two miles than the other，and that the weather was clear and the moon shone，she determined to make her way on foot，that she might be at home by next day．
The sun had set，and the evening bells were still ringing；but no，it was not the bells，but the cry of the frogs in the marshes．Now they were silent，and all around was still；not a bird was heard，for they were all gone to rest；and even the owl seemed to be at home：deep silence reigned on the margin of the forest and by the sea－shore．As Anne Lisbeth walked on she could hear her own foot-steps on the sand；there was no sound of waves in the sea；everything out in the deep waters had sunk to silence．All was quiet there，the living and the dead．
Anne Lisbeth walked on“thinking of nothing at all”，as the saying is，or rather，her thoughts wandered；but her thoughts had not wandered away from her，for they are never absent from us，they only slumber，both those which have been alive but have gone to rest again，and those which have not yet stirred．But the thoughts come forth at their time，and begin to stir sometimes in the heart and sometimes in the head，or seem to come upon us from above．
It is written that a good deed bears its fruit of blessing，and it is also written that sin is death．Much has been written and much has been said which one does not know or think of；and thus it was with Anne Lisbeth．But it may happen that a light arises within one；it is quite possible．
All virtues and all vices lie in our hearts．They are in mine and in thine；they lie there like little invisible grains of seed；and then from without comes a ray of sun－shine or the touch of an evil hand，or maybe you turn the corner and go to the right or to the left，and that may be decisive；for the little seed－corn perhaps is stirred，and it swells and shoots up，and it bursts，and pours its sap into all your blood，and then your career has commenced．There are tormenting thoughts，which one does not feel when one walks on with slumbering senses，but they are there，fermenting in the heart．Anne Lisbeth walked on thus with her senses half in slumber，but the thoughts were fermenting within her．
From one Shrove Tuesday to the next there comes much that weighs upon the heart—the reckoning of a whole year：much is forgotten，sins against Heaven in word and in thought，against our neighbour，and against our own conscience．We don't think of these things，and Anne Lisbeth did not think of them．She had committed no crime against the law of the land，she was very respectable，an honoured and well-placed person，that she knew．
And as she walked along by the margin of the sea，what was it she saw lying there？An old hat，a man's hat．Now，where might that have been washed overboard？She came nearer，and stopped to look at the hat．Ha！what was lying there？She shuddered；but it was nothing save a heap of sea-grass and tangle flung across a long stone；but it looked just like a real person；it was only sea－grass and tangle，and yet she was frightened at it，and as she turned away to walk on much came into her mind that she had heard in her childhood—old superstitions of spectres by the sea－shore，of the ghosts of drowned but unburied people who have been washed up on the desert shore．The body，she had heard，could do harm to none，but the spirit could pursue the lonely wanderer，and attach itself to him，and demand to be carried to the churchyard that it might rest in consecrated ground．
“Hold fast！Hold fast！”it cried；and while Anne Lisbeth murmured the words to herself，her whole dream suddenly stood before her just as she had dreamed it，when the mothers clung to her and had repeated this word amid the crash of the world，when her sleeve was torn and she slipped out of the grasp of her child，who wanted to hold her up in that terrible hour．Her child，her own child，whom she had never loved，now lay buried in the sea，and might rise up like a spectre from the waters，and cry，“Hold fast！Carry me to consecrated earth．”And as these thoughts passed through her mind，fear gave speed to her feet，so that she walked on faster and faster；fear came up－on her like the touch of a cold wet hand that was laid upon her heart，so that she almost fainted；and as she looked out across the sea，all there grew thicker and darker；a heavy mist came rolling onward，and clung round bush and tree，twisting them into fantastic shapes．She turned round，and glanced up at the moon，which had risen behind her．It looked like a pale，rayless surface；and a deadly weight appeared to cling to her limbs．“Hold fast！”thought she；and when she turned round a second time and looked at the moon，its white face seemed quite close to her，and the mist hung like a pale garment from her shoulders．“Hold fast！Carry me to consecrated earth！”sounded in her ears in strange hollow tones．The sound did not come from the frogs in the pond，or from ravens or crows；she saw no sign of any such creatures．“A grave！Dig me a grave！”was repeated quite loud．
Yes，it was the spectre of her child，the child that lay in the ocean，and whose spirit could have no rest until it was carried to the churchyard，and until a grave had been dug for it in consecrated ground．Thither she would go，and there she would dig；and she went on in the direction of the church，and the weight on her heart seemed to grow lighter，and even to vanish altogether；but when she turned to go home by the shortest way，it returned．“Hold fast！Hold fast！”and the words came quite clear，though they were like the croak of a frog or the wail of a bird，“A grave！Dig me a grave！”
The mist was cold and damp；her hands and face were cold and damp with horror；a heavy weight again seized her and clung to her，and in her mind a great space opened for thoughts that had never before been there．
Here in the North the beech wood often buds in a single night，and in the morning sunlight it appears in its full glory of youthful green；and thus in a single instant can the consciousness unfold itself of the sin that has been contained in the thoughts，words，and works of our past life．It springs up and unfolds itself in a single second when once the conscience is awakened；and God wakens it when we least expect it．Then we find no excuse for ourselvers—the deed is there，and bears witness against us；the thoughts seem to become words，and to sound far out into the world．We are horrified at the thought of what we have carried within us，and have not stifled what we have sown in our thoughtlessness and pride．The heart hides within itself all the virtues and likewise all the vices，and they grow even in the barrenest ground．
Anne Lisbeth now experienced all the thoughts we have clothed in words．She was overpowered by them，and sank down，and crept along for some distance on the ground．“A grave！Dig me a grave！”it sounded again in her ears；and she would gladly have buried herself if in the grave there had been forgetfulness of every deed．It was the first hour of her awakening—full of anguish and horror．Superstition alternately made her shudder with cold and made her blood burn with the heat of fever．
Many things of which she had never liked to speak came into her mind．Silent as the cloud-shadows in the bright moonshine，a spectral apparition flitted by her：she had heard of it before．Close by her gallopped four snorting steeds，with fire spurting from their eyes and nostrils；they dragged a red－hot coach，and within it sat the wicked proprietor who had ruled here a hundred years ago．
The legend said that every night at twelve o'clock he drove into his castle yard and out again．He was not pale，as dead men are said to be，but black as a coal．He nodded at Anne Lisbeth and beckoned to her．
“Hold fast！Hold fast！Then you may ride again in a nobleman's carriage，and forget your own child！”
She gathered herself up，and hastened to the church-yard；but the black crosses and the black ravens danced in confusion before her eyes．The ravens croaked，as the raven had done that she saw in the day－time，but now she understood what they said．“I am the raven-mother！I am the raven-mother！”each raven croaked，and Anne Lisbeth now understood that the name also applied to her；and she fancied she should be transformed into a black bird，and be obliged to cry what they cried，if she did not dig the grave．
And she threw herself on the earth，and with her hands dug a grave in the hard ground，so that the blood ran from her fingers．“A grave！Dig me a grave！”it still sounded；she was fearful that the cook might crow，and the first red streak appear in the east，before she had finished her work，and then she would be lost．
And the cock crowed，and day dawned in the east，and the grave was only half dug．An icy hand passed over her head and face and down towards her heart．
“Only half a grave！”a voice wailed，and floated away down to the bottom of the sea．
It was the ocean spectre；and exhausted and overpowered，Anne Lisbeth sank to the ground，and her senses forsook her．
It was bright day when she came to herself，and two men were raising her up；but she was not lying in the churchyard，but on the sea－shore，where she had dug a deep hole in the sand，and cut her hand against a broken glass，whose sharp stem was stuck in a little painted block of wood．
Anne Lisbeth was in a fever．Conscience had shuffled the cards of superstition，and had laid out these cards，and she fancied she had only half a soul，and that her child had taken the other half down into the sea．Never would she be able to swing herself aloft to the mercy of Heaven till she had recovered this other half，which was now held fast in the deep water．Anne Lisbeth got back to her former home，but was no longer the woman she had been：her thoughts were confused like a tangled skein；only one thread，only one thought she had disentangled，namely，that she must carry the spectre of the sea－shore to the churchyard，and dig a grave for him，that thus she might win back her soul．
Many a night she was missed from her home；and she was always found on the sea－shore，waiting for the spectre．In this way a whole year passed by；and then one night she vanished again，and was not to be found；the whole of the next day was wasted in fruitless search．
Towards evening，when the clerk came into the church to toll the vesper bell，he saw，by the altar，Anne Lisbeth，who had spent the whole day there．Her strength was almost exhausted，but her eyes gleamed brightly，and her cheeks had a rosy flush．The last rays of the sun shone upon her，and gleamed over the altar on the bright clasps of the Bible which lay there，opened at the words of the prophet Joel：“Rend your hearts，and not your garments，and turn unto the Lord！”That was just a chance，the people said，as many things happen by chance．
In the face of Anne Lisbeth，illumined by the sun，peace and rest were to be seen．She said she was happy，for now she had conquered．Last night the spectre of the shore，her own child，had come to her，and had said to her，
“Thou hast dug me only half a grave，but thou hast now，for a year and a day，buried me altogether in thy heart，and it is there that a mother can best hide her child！”
And then he gave her lost half soul back again，and brought her here into the church．
“Now I am in the house of God，”she said，“and in that house we are happy．”
And when the sun had set，Anne Lisbeth's soul had risen to that region where there is no more anguish，and Anne Lisbeth's troubles were over．
安妮·莉斯贝
安妮·莉斯贝的肤色像牛奶和血，又年轻，又快乐，样子真是可爱。她的牙齿白得放光，她的眼睛非常明亮，她的脚跳起舞来非常轻松，而她的性情也很轻松。这一切会结出怎样的果子呢？……“她儿子是一个讨厌的孩子！……”的确，孩子一点也不好看，因此他被送到一个挖沟工人的老婆家里去抚养。
安妮·莉斯贝本人则搬进一位伯爵的公馆里去住。她穿着丝绸和天鹅绒做的衣服，坐在华贵的房间里，一丝儿风也不能吹到她身上，谁也不能对她说一句不客气的话，因为［这会使她难过，而难过是她所受不了的。］她抚养伯爵的孩子。这孩子清秀得像一个王子，美丽得像一个安琪儿。她是多么爱这孩子啊！
至于她自己的孩子呢，是的，他是在家里，在那个挖沟工人的家里。在这家里，锅开的时候少，嘴开的时候多。此外，家里常常没有人。孩子哭起来。不过，既然没有人听到他哭，因此也就没有人为他难过。他哭得慢慢地睡着了。在睡梦中，他既不觉得饿，也不觉得渴。睡眠是一种多么好的发明啊！
许多年过去了。［是的，正如俗话说的，时间一久，］野草也就长起来了，安妮·莉斯贝的孩子也长大了。大家都说他发育不全，但是他现在已经完全成为他所寄住的这一家的成员。这一家得到了一笔抚养他的钱，安妮·莉斯贝也就算从此把他脱手了。她自己成了一个都市妇人，住得非常舒服；当她出门的时候，她还戴一顶帽子呢。但是她却从来不到那个挖沟工人家里去，因为那儿离城太远。事实上，她去也没有什么事情可做。孩子是别人的；而且她说，孩子现在自己可以找饭吃了，他应该找个职业来糊口。因此他就为马兹·演生看一头红毛母牛。他已经可以牧牛，做点有用的事情了。
在一个贵族公馆的洗衣池旁边，有一只看家狗骄傲地坐在狗屋顶上晒太阳。随便什么人走过去，它都要叫几声。如果天下雨，它就钻进它的屋子里去，屋子里是干燥和舒服的。安妮·莉斯贝的孩子坐在沟沿上一面晒太阳，一面削着拴牛的木桩子。在春天他看见三棵草莓开花了；他唯一高兴的想头是：这些花将会结出果子，可是果子却没有结出来。他坐在风雨之中，全身给淋得透湿，后来强劲的冷风又把他的衣服吹干。当他回到家里来的时候，一些男人和女人不是推他，就是拉他，因为他丑得出奇。谁也不爱他——他已经习惯于这类事情了！
安妮·莉斯贝的孩子怎样活下去呢？他怎么能活下去呢？他的命运是：谁也不爱他。
他从陆地上被推到船上去。他乘着一条破烂的船去航海。当船老板在喝酒的时候，他就坐着掌舵。他脏而丑，他是既寒冷，又饥饿。人们可能以为他从来没有吃过饱饭呢。事实上也是如此。
这正是晚秋的天气：寒冷，多风、多雨。冷风甚至能透进最厚的衣服——特别是在海上。这条破烂的船正在海上航行；船上只有两个人——事实上也可以说只有一个半人：船老板和他的助手。整天都是阴沉沉的，现在变得更黑了。天气是刺骨地寒冷。船老板喝了一德兰的酒，可以把他的身体温暖一下。酒瓶是很旧的。酒杯更是如此——它的上半部分是完整的，但它的下半部分已经碎了，因此现在是搁在一块上了漆的蓝色木座子上。船老板想：“一德兰的酒使我感到舒服，两德兰使我感到更愉快。”这孩子坐在舵旁，用他一双油污的手紧紧地握着舵。他是丑陋的，他的头发挺直，他的样子衰老，显得发育不全。他是一个劳动人家的孩子——虽然在教堂的出生登记簿上他是安妮·莉斯贝的儿子。
风吹着船，船破着浪！船帆鼓满了风，船在向前挺进。前后左右，上上下下，都是暴风雨；但是更糟糕的事情还待到来。停住！什么？什么撞了一下？什么裂开了？
什么碰到了船？船在急转！难道这是龙吸水吗？难道海在沸腾吗？坐在舵旁的这个孩子高声地喊：“上帝啊，救我吧！”船触到了海底伸上来的一个巨大的石礁，接着它就像池塘里的一只破鞋似地沉到水下面去了——正如俗话所说的，“连人带耗子都沉下去了”。是的，船上有的是耗子，不过人只有一个半：船主人和这个挖沟人的孩子。
只有尖叫的海鸥看到了这情景；此外还有下面的一些鱼，不过它们也没有看清楚，因为当水涌进船里和船在下沉的时候，它们已经吓得跑开了。船沉到水底将近有一英寻深，于是他们两个人就完了。他们死了，也被遗忘了！只有那个安在蓝色木座子上的酒杯没有沉，因为木座子把它托起来了。它顺水漂流，随时可以撞碎，漂到岸上去。但是漂到哪边的岸上去呢？什么时候呢？是的，这并没有什么重要！它已经完成了它的任务，它已经被人爱过——但是安妮·莉斯贝的孩子却没有被人爱过！然而在天国里，任何灵魂都不能说：“没有被人爱！”
安妮·莉斯贝住在城市里已经有许多年了。人们把她称为“太太”。当她谈起旧时的记忆，谈起跟伯爵在一起的时候，她特别感到骄傲。那时她坐在马车里，可以跟伯爵夫人和男爵夫人交谈。她那位甜蜜的小伯爵是上帝的最美丽的安琪儿，是一个最亲爱的人物。他喜欢她，她也喜欢他。他们彼此吻着，彼此拥抱着。他是她的幸福，她的半个生命。现在他已经长得很高大了。他14岁了，有学问，有好看的外表。自从她把他抱在怀里的那个时候起，她已经有很久没有看见过他了。她已经有好多年没有到伯爵的公馆里去了，因为到那儿去的旅程的确不容易。
“我一定要设法去一趟！”安妮·莉斯贝说。“我要去看看我的宝贝，我的亲爱的小伯爵。是的，他一定也很想看到我的；他一定也很想念我，爱我，像他从前用他安琪儿的手臂搂着我的脖子时一样。那时他总是喊：‘安·莉斯！’那声音简直像音乐！我一定要想办法再去看他一次。”
她坐着一辆牛车走了一阵子，然后又步行了一阵子，最后她来到了伯爵的公馆。这公馆像从前一样，仍然是很庄严和华丽的；它外面的花园也是像从前一样。不过屋子里面的人却完全是陌生的。谁也不认识安妮·莉斯贝。他们不知道她有什么了不起的事情要到这儿来。当然，伯爵夫人会告诉他们的，她亲爱的孩子也会告诉他们的。她是多么想念他啊！
安妮·莉斯贝到达了目的地，她在等着。她等了很久，而且时间似乎越等越长！她在主人用饭以前被喊进去了。主人跟她很客气地应酬了几句。至于她的亲爱的孩子，她只有吃完了饭以后才能见到——那时她将会再一次被喊进去。
他长得多么大，多么高、多么瘦啊！但是他仍然有美丽的眼睛和安琪儿般的嘴！他望着她，但是一句话也不讲。显然他不认识她。他掉转身，想要走开，但是她捧住他的手，把它贴到自己的嘴上。
“好吧，这已经够了！”他说。接着他就从房间里走开了——他是她心中念念不忘的人；是她最爱的人；是她在人世间一提起就感到骄傲的人。
安妮·莉斯贝走出了这个公馆，来到广阔的大路上。她感到非常伤心。他对她是那么冷漠，一点也不想她，连一句感谢的话也不说。曾经有个时候，她日夜都抱着他——她现在在梦里还抱着他。
一只大黑乌鸦飞下来，落在她面前的路上，不停地发出尖锐的叫声。
“哎呀！”她说，“你是一只多么不吉利的鸟儿啊！”
她在那个挖沟工人的茅屋旁边走过。茅屋的女主人正站在门口。她们交谈起来。
“你真是一个有福气的样子！”挖沟工人的老婆说。“你长得又肥又胖，是一副发财相！”
“还不坏！”安妮·莉斯贝说。
“船带着他们一起沉了！”挖沟工人的老婆说。“船老板和助手都淹死了。一切都完了。我起初还以为这孩子将来会赚几块钱，补贴我的家用。安妮·莉斯贝，他再也不会要你费钱了。”
“他们淹死了？”安妮·莉斯贝问。她们没有再在这个问题上谈下去。
安妮·莉斯贝感到非常难过，因为她的小伯爵不喜欢和她讲话。她曾经是那样爱他，现在她还特地走这么远的路来看他——这段旅程也费钱呀，虽然她并没有从它得到什么愉快。不过关于这事她一个字也不提。因为把这事讲给挖沟工人的老婆听也不会使她的心情好转。这只会引起后者猜疑她在伯爵家里不受欢迎。这时那只黑乌鸦又在她头上尖叫了几声。
“这个黑鬼，”安妮·莉斯贝说，“它今天使我害怕起来！”
她带来了一点咖啡豆和菊苣。她觉得这对于挖沟工人的老婆说来是一件施舍，可以使她煮一杯咖啡喝；同时她自己也可以喝一杯。挖沟工人的老妻子煮咖啡去了；这时安妮·莉斯贝就坐在椅子上睡着了。她做了一个从来没有做过的梦。说来也很奇怪，她梦见了自己的孩子：在这个工人的茅屋里，他饿得哭叫，谁也不管他；他给人冷嘲热讽推来搡去，现在他躺在海底——只有上帝知道他在什么地方。她梦见自己坐在这茅屋里，挖沟工人的老婆在煮咖啡，她可以闻到咖啡豆的香味，这时门口出现了一个可爱的人形——这人形跟那位小伯爵一样好看，同时说：
“世界快要灭亡了！紧跟着我来吧，因为你是我的妈妈呀！你有一个安琪儿在天国里！紧跟着我来吧。”
他伸出手来拉她，不过这时有一个可怕的爆裂声响起来了。这无疑是世界在爆裂，这时安琪儿升上来，紧紧地抓住她的衬衫袖子；她似乎觉得自己从地上被托起来了。不过她的脚上似乎系着一件沉重的东西，把她向下拖，好像有几百个女人在紧抓住她，说：
“假使你要得救，我们也要得救！抓紧！抓紧！”
她们都一起抓着她；她们的人数真多。“嘶！嘶！”她的衬衫袖子被撕碎了，安妮·莉斯贝在恐怖中跌落下来了，同时也醒了。的确，她几乎跟她坐着的那张椅子一齐倒下来，她吓得头脑发昏，她甚至记不清楚自己梦见了什么东西。不过她知道那是一个噩梦。
她们一起喝咖啡，聊聊天。然后她就走到附近的一个镇上去，因为她要到那儿去找到那个赶车的人，以便在天黑以前能够回到家里去。不过当她碰到这个赶车人的时候，他说他们要等到第二天天黑以前才能动身。她开始考虑住下来的费用，同时也把里程考虑了一下。她想，如果沿着海岸走，可以比坐车子少走八九英里路。这时天气晴朗，月亮正圆，因此安妮·莉斯贝决定步行；她第二天就可以回到家里了。
太阳已经下沉，暮钟仍然在敲着。不过，这不是钟声，而是贝得尔·奥克斯的青蛙在沼泽地里的叫声。现在它们静下来了，四周是一片沉寂，连一声鸟叫也没有，因为它们都睡着了，甚至猫头鹰都不见了。树林里和她正在走着的海岸上一点声音也没有。她听到自己在沙上走着的脚步声。海上也没有浪花冲击的声音；遥远的深水里也是鸦雀无声。水底有生命和无生命的东西，都是默默地没有声响。
安妮·莉斯贝只顾向前走，像俗话所说的，什么也不想。不过思想并没有离开她，因为思想是永远不会离开我们的。它只不过是在睡觉罢了。那些活跃着、但现在正在休息着的思想，和那些还没有被掀动起来的思想，都是这个样子。不过思想会冒出头来，有时在心里活动，有时在我们的脑袋里活动，或者从上面向我们袭来。
“善有善报，”书上这样写着。“罪过里藏着死机！”书上也这样写着。书上写着的东西不少，讲过的东西也不少，但是人们却不知道，也想不起。安妮·莉斯贝就是这个样子。不过有时人们心里会露出一线光明——这完全是可能的！
一切罪恶和一切美德都藏在我们的心里——藏在你的心里和我的心里！它们像看不见的小种子似地藏着。一丝太阳从外面射出来，一只罪恶的手摸触一下，你在街角向左边拐或向右边拐——是的，这就够决定问题了。于是这颗小小的种子就活跃起来，开始胀大和冒出新芽。它把它的汁液散布到你的血管里去，这样你的行动就开始受到影响，一个人在迷糊地走着路的时候，是不会感觉到那种使人苦恼的思想的，但是这种思想却在心里酝酿。安妮·莉斯贝就是这样半睡似地走着路，但是她的思想正要开始活动。
从头年的圣烛节到第二年的圣烛节，心里记载着的事情可是不少——一年所发生的事情：有许多已经被忘记了，比如对上帝、对我们的邻居和对我们自己的良心、在言语上和思想上所做过的罪恶行为。我们想不到这些事情，安妮·莉斯贝也没有想到这些事情。她知道，她并没有做出任何不良的事情来破坏这国家的法律，她是一个善良、诚实和被人看得起的人，她自己知道这一点。
现在她沿着海边走。那里有一件什么东西呢？她停下来。那是一件什么东西漂上来了呢？那是一顶男子的旧帽子。它是从什么地方漂来的呢？她走过去，停下来仔细看了一眼，哎呀！这是一件什么东西呢？她害怕起来。但是这并不值得害怕：这不过是些海草和灯芯草罢了，它缠在一块长长的石头上，样子像一个人的身躯。这只是些灯芯草和海草，但是她却害怕起来。她转过身继续向前走，心中想起儿时所听到的更多的迷信故事。“海鬼”——漂到荒凉的海滩上没有人埋葬的尸体。尸体本身是不伤害任何人的，不过它的魂魄——“海鬼”——会追着孤独的旅人，紧抓着他，要求他把它送进教堂，埋在基督徒的墓地里。
“抓紧！抓紧！”有一个声音这样喊。当安妮·莉斯贝想起这几句话的时候，她做过的梦马上又生动地回到记忆中来了——那些母亲们怎样抓着她，喊着：“抓紧！抓紧！”她脚底下的地面怎样向下沉，她的衣袖怎样被撕碎，在这最后审判的时刻，她的孩子怎样托着她，她又怎样从孩子的手中掉下来，她的孩子，她自己亲生的孩子，她从来没有爱过他，也从来没有想过他。这个孩子现在正躺在海底。他永远也不会像一个海鬼似地爬起来，叫着“抓紧！抓紧！把我送到基督徒的墓地上去呀！”当她想着这事情的时候，恐惧刺激着她的脚，使她加快了步子。
恐怖像一只冰冷潮湿的手，按在她的心上；她几乎要昏过去了。当她朝海上望的时候，海上正慢慢地变得昏暗。一层浓雾从海上升起来，弥漫到灌木林和树上，形成各种各样的奇形怪状。她掉转身向背后的月亮望了一眼。月亮像一面没有光辉的、淡白色的圆镜。她的四肢似乎被某种沉重的东西压住了：“抓紧！抓紧！”她这样想。当她再掉转身看看月亮的时候，似乎觉得月亮的白面孔就贴着她的身子，而浓雾就像一件尸衣似地披在她的肩上。“抓紧！把我送到基督徒的墓地里去吧！”她听到这样一个空洞的声音。这不是沼泽地上的青蛙，或大渡乌和乌鸦发出来的，因为她并没有看到这些东西，“把我埋葬掉吧，把我埋葬掉吧！”这声音说。
是的，这是“海鬼”——躺在海底的她的孩子的魂魄。这魂魄是不会安息的，除非有人把它送到教堂的墓地里去，除非有人在基督教的土地上为它砌一个坟墓。她得向那儿走去，她得到那儿去挖一个坟墓。她朝教堂的那个方向走去，于是她就觉得她的负担轻了许多——甚至变得没有了。这时她又打算掉转身，沿着那条最短的路走回家去，立刻那个担子又压到她身上来了：抓紧！抓紧！这好像青蛙的叫声，又好像鸟儿的哀鸣，她听得非常清楚。“为我挖一个坟墓吧！为我挖一个坟墓吧！”
雾是又冷又潮湿；她的手和面孔也是由于恐怖而变得又冷又潮湿。周围的压力向她压过去，但是她心里的思想却在无限地膨胀。这是她从来没有经验过的一种感觉。
在北国，山毛榉可以在一个春天的晚上就冒出芽，第二天一见到太阳就现出它幸福的青春的绿色。同样，在我们的心里，藏在我们过去生活中的罪恶种子，也会在一瞬间通过思想、言语和行动冒出芽来。当良心一觉醒的时候，这种子只须一瞬间的工夫就会长大和发育。这是上帝在我们最想不到的时刻使它起这样的变化的。什么辩解都不需要了，因为事实摆在面前，作为见证。思想变成了语言，而语言是在世界什么地方都可以听见的。我们一想到我们身中藏着的东西，一想到我们还没有能消灭我们在无意和骄傲中种下的种子，我们就不禁要恐怖起来。心中可以藏着一切美德，也可以藏着罪恶。它们甚至在最贫瘠的土地上也可以繁殖起来。
安妮·莉斯贝的心里深深地体会到我们刚才所讲的这些话。她感到极度地不安，她倒到地上，只能向前爬几步。一个声音说：“请埋葬我吧！请埋葬我吧！”只要能在坟墓里把一切都忘记，她倒很想把自己埋葬掉。这是她充满恐惧和惊惶的醒觉的时刻。迷信使她的血一会儿变冷，一会儿变热。有许多她不愿意讲的事情，现在都集中到她的心里来了。
一个她从前听人讲过的幻象，像明朗的月光下面的云彩，静寂地在她面前出现：四匹嘶鸣的马儿在她身边驰过去了。它们的眼睛里和鼻孔里射出火花，拉着一辆火红的车子，里面坐着一个在这地区横行了一百多年的坏人。
据说他每天半夜要跑进自己的家里去一次，然后再跑出来。他的外貌并不像一般人所描述的死人那样，惨白得毫无血色，而是像熄灭了的炭一样漆黑。他对安妮·莉斯贝点点头，招招手：
“抓紧！抓紧！你可以在伯爵的车子上再坐一次，把你的孩子忘掉！”
她急忙避开，走进教堂的墓地里去。但是黑十字架和大渡鸦在她的眼前混作一团。大渡鸦在叫——像她白天所看到的那样叫。不过现在她懂得它们所叫的是什么东西。它们说：“我是大渡鸦妈妈！我是大渡鸦妈妈！”每一只都这样说。安妮·莉斯贝知道，她也会变成这样的一只黑鸟。如果她不挖出一个坟墓来，她将永远也要像它们那样叫。
她伏到地上，用手在坚硬的土上挖一个坟墓，她的手指流出血来。“把我埋葬掉吧！把我埋葬掉吧！”这声音在喊。她害怕在她的工作没有做完以前鸡会叫起来，东方会放出彩霞，因为如果这样，她就没有希望了。
鸡终于叫了，东方也现出亮光。她要挖的坟墓只完成了一半。一只冰冷的手从她的头上和脸上一直摸到她的心窝。“只挖出半个坟墓！”一个声音哀叹着，接着就渐渐地沉到海底。是的，这就是“海鬼”！安妮·莉斯贝昏倒在地上。她不能思想，失去了知觉。
她醒转来的时候，已经是明朗的白天了。有两个人把她扶起来。她并没有躺在教堂的墓地里，而是躺在海滩上，她在沙上挖了一个深洞。她的手指被一个破玻璃杯划开了，流出血来。这杯子底端的脚是安在一个涂了蓝漆的木座子上的。
安妮·莉斯贝病了。良心和迷信纠缠在一起，她也分辨不清，结果她相信她现在只有半个灵魂，另外半个灵魂则被她的孩子带到海里去了。她将永远也不能飞上天国，接受慈悲，除非她能够收回深藏在水底的另一半灵魂。安妮·莉斯贝回到家里去，她已经不再是原来的那个样子了。她的思想像一团乱麻一样。她只能抽出一根线索来，那就是她得把这个“海鬼”运到教堂的墓地里去，为他挖一个坟墓——这样她才能招回她整个的灵魂。
有许多晚上她不在家里。人们老是看见她在海滩上等待那个“海鬼”。这样的日子她挨过了一整年。于是有一天晚上她又不见了，人们再也找不到她。第二天大家找了一整天，也没有结果。
黄昏的时候，牧师到教堂里来敲晚钟。这时他看见安妮·莉斯贝跪在祭坛的脚下。她从大清早起就在这儿，她已经没有一点气力了，但是她的眼睛仍然射出光彩，脸上仍然现出红光。太阳的最后的晚霞照着她，射在摊开在祭坛上的《圣经》的银扣子上。《圣经》摊开的地方显露出先知约珥的几句话：“你们要撕裂心肠，不撕裂衣服，归向上帝！”
“这完全是碰巧，”人们说，“有许多事情就是偶然发生的。”
安妮·莉斯贝的脸上，在太阳光中，露出一种和平和安静的表情。她说她感到非常愉快。她现在重新获得了灵魂，昨天晚上那个“海鬼”——她的儿子——是和她在一道。这幽灵对她说：
“你只为我挖好了半个坟墓，但是在整整一年中你却在你的心中为我砌好了一个完整的坟墓。这是一个妈妈能埋葬她的孩子的最好的地方。”
于是他把她失去了的那半个灵魂还给她，同时把她领到这个教堂里来。
“现在我是在上帝的屋子里，”她说，“在这个屋子里我们全都感到快乐！”
太阳落下去的时候，安妮·莉斯贝的灵魂就升到另一个境界里去了。当人们在人世间做过一番斗争以后，来到这个境界是不会感到痛苦的；而安妮·莉斯贝是做过一番斗争的。
这个故事最初发表在1859年哥本哈根出版的《新的童话和故事集》第1卷第3辑。安徒生在他的手记中写道：“在《安妮·莉斯贝》中，我想说明一切良好的愿望都藏在人的心中，而且通过曲折的道路一定会发芽生长。在这里，母亲的爱在恐慌和颤抖的气氛中也可以产生生命和力量。”一个母亲为了虚荣，甘愿到一个贵族家去当乳母而抛弃了自己的亲生孩子，使孩子最后惨遭不幸。这样的母亲是不可原谅的。按照基督教的教义这是“罪过”，但安徒生引用上帝的“爱”，通过她本人的悔恨和思想斗争终于取得了“谅解”而获得圆满的结局：“安妮·莉斯贝的脸上，在太阳光中，露出一种和平和安静的表情。她说她感到非常愉快。她现在重新获得了灵魂。昨天晚上那个‘海鬼’——她的儿子——是和她一道。”这是安徒生善良和人道主义精神的体现。关于安妮·莉斯贝的内心斗争的描写，很细致，也是安徒生力图“创新”的一个方面。
