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diff --git a/39744-h/39744-h.htm b/39744-h/39744-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..20616d2 --- /dev/null +++ b/39744-h/39744-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10145 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Arne; Early Tales and Sketches, by Björnstjerne Björnson. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .51em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .49em; +} + +.p2 {margin-top: 2em;} +.p2b {margin-bottom: 2em;} +.p4b {margin-bottom: 4em;} + +hr.tb {width: 10%;} +hr.r5 {width: 5%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +hr.r20 {width: 20%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 3em;} +hr.r65 {width: 65%; margin-top: 3em; margin-bottom: 3em;} + +table { + width: 60%; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + + .tdl {text-align: left;} + .tdr {text-align: right;} + +.pagenum { + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: 70%; + text-align: right; + color: #ACACAC; +} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +/* Footnotes */ +.footnotes { + font-weight: bold; + text-indent: 2em; + background-color: #F5F8EC; + padding-top: 1em; + padding-bottom: 0.5em; +} + +.footnote { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + text-indent: 0em; + font-size: 0.9em; + font-weight: normal; +} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: + none; +} + +/* Poetry */ +.poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} +.poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} +.poem span.i10 {display: block; margin-left: 5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} +.poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} +.poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} +.poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 3em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} +.poem span.i8 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + +/* Transcriber's notes */ +.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; + color: black; + font-size:smaller; + padding:0.5em; + margin-bottom:5em; + font-family:sans-serif, serif; } + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's Arne: Early Tales and Sketches, by Bjornstjerne Bjornson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Arne: Early Tales and Sketches + Patriots Edition + +Author: Bjornstjerne Bjornson + +Translator: Rasmus B. Anderson + +Release Date: May 20, 2012 [EBook #39744] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARNE: EARLY TALES AND SKETCHES *** + + + + +Produced by Charlene Taylor, Margo Romberg and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1>ARNE</h1> + +<h1>EARLY TALES AND SKETCHES</h1> + +<hr class="r65" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 314px;"> +<img src="images/title.jpg" width="314" height="550" alt="title page" /> +</div> + +<hr class="r20" /> + +<h1>WORKS OF BJÖRNSTJERNE BJÖRNSON</h1> + +<h1>PATRIOTS EDITION</h1> + +<h2><span class="smcap">Arne</span></h2> + +<h2><span class="smcap">Early Tales and Sketches</span></h2> + +<h4><i>Translated from the Norse By</i></h4> +<h4><span class="smcap">Rasmus B. Anderson</span></h4> + +<h5>NEW YORK</h5> +<h5>DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY</h5> + +<hr class="r20" /> +<h6>Copyright, 1881, 1882,</h6> +<h6><span class="smcap">By</span> HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO.</h6> + +<p class="center"><i>All rights reserved.</i> +</p> +<hr class="r65" /> + +<h3>TABLE OF CONTENTS</h3> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="TOC"> +<tr><td></td><td class="tdr">PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">PREFACE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_5">5</a> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"><br />ARNE</td><td></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Chapter I</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_9">9</a> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Chapter II</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_14">14</a> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Chapter III</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_28">28</a> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Chapter IV</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_42">42</a> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Chapter V</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_52">52</a> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Chapter VI</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_60">60</a> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Chapter VII</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_70">70</a> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Chapter VIII</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_77">77</a> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Chapter IX</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_89">89</a> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Chapter X</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_108">108</a> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Chapter XI</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_126">126</a> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Chapter XII</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_139">139</a> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Chapter XIII</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_149">149</a> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Chapter XIV</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_163">163</a> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Chapter XV</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_174">174</a> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Chapter XVI</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_195">195</a> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"><br /></td><td></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">EARLY TALES AND SKETCHES</td><td></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"></td><td></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">The Railroad and the Churchyard</td><td></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Chapter I</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">203</a> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Chapter II</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">219</a> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"> Chapter III</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">237</a> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"></td><td></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">Thrond</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_248">248</a> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"></td><td></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">A Dangerous Wooing</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_264">264</a> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"></td><td></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">The Bear Hunter</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_272">272</a> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"></td><td></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">The Father</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_284">284</a> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"></td><td></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl">The Eagle's Nest</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_290">290</a> </td></tr> +</table></div> + +<hr class="r65" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p> +<h2>PREFACE.</h2> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Arne</span>" was written in 1858, one year later than +"Synnöve Solbakken," and is thought by many to +be Björnson's best story, though it is, in my opinion, +surpassed in simplicity of style and delicate analysis +of motives, feelings, and character by "A Happy +Boy," his third long story, the translation of which is +now in progress, and which will follow this volume.</p> + +<p>Norway's most eminent composers have written +music for many of Björnson's poems, and made them +favorite songs, not only with the cultivated classes, +but also with the common people. To the songs +in "Arne" melodies were composed by Björnson's +brilliant cousin, Rikard Nordraak, who died in 1865, +only twenty-three years old, but who had already won +a place as one of Norway's greatest composers.</p> + +<p>With a view of popularizing these melodies in this +country, all the poems have been given in precisely +the same metre and rhyme as the original, and those +caring to know how the tunes are supposed to have +sounded on the lips of Arne are referred to "The +Norway Music Album," edited by Auber Forestier +and myself, and published by Oliver Ditson & Co. of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> +Boston. In it will be found, together with the original +and English words, Rikard Nordraak's music to +the following five songs from "Arne":—</p> + +<p>1. "Oh, my pet lamb, lift your head," from chapter +v.</p> + +<p>2. "It was such a pleasant, sunny day," from chapter +viii.</p> + +<p>3. "The tree's early leaf-buds were bursting their +brown," from chapter xii.</p> + +<p> +4. "Oh how I wonder what I should see<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Over the lofty mountains,"<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> from chapter xiv.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>5. "He went in the forest the whole day long," +from chapter xiv.</p> + +<p>Mr. Björnson returned to Norway in May, 1881; +he was welcomed with enthusiasm, and on the 17th +of the same month, Norway's natal day, he delivered +the oration at the dedication of the Wergeland Monument +to a gathering of more than ten thousand people. +His visit to America was a brilliant success. +His addresses to his countrymen in America were +chiefly on the constitutional struggle of Norway, on +which subject an article by him will be found in the +February (1881) issue of "Scribner's Monthly." As +a souvenir of his pleasant sojourn among us, I will +here attempt an English translation of the poem +"Olaf Trygvason" with which he usually greeted his +hearers at his lectures. It is one of his most popular +songs.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Spreading sails o'er the North Sea speed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High on deck stands at dawn, indeed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Erling Skjalgson from Sole.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spying o'er the sea towards Denmark:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Wherefore comes not Olaf Trygvason?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Six and fifty the dragons are;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sails are furled ... toward Denmark stare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sun-scorched men ... then rises:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Where stays the King's Long Serpent?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherefore comes not Olaf Trygvason?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But when sun on the second day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saw the watery, mastless way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a great storm it sounded:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Where stays the King's Long Serpent?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherefore comes not Olaf Trygvason?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quiet, quiet, in that same hour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stood they all; for with endless power,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Groaning, the sea was splashing:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Taken the King's Long Serpent!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fallen is Olaf Trygvason!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus for more than an hundred years<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sounds in every seaman's ears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chiefly in moon-lit watches:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Taken the King's Long Serpent!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fallen is Olaf Trygvason!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The reader will not fail to be reminded by this +song by Björnson of Longfellow's "Saga of King +Olaf" (the Musician's Tale), in his "Tales of a Wayside +Inn," and especially of those beautiful poems in +this collection, "The Building of the Long Serpent," +and "The Crew of the Long Serpent."</p> + +<p>Hoping the translation of these stories and songs +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> +will enable the reader to appreciate in some degree +the secret of Björnson's great popularity in the fair +land that lies beneath the eternal snow and the unsetting +sun, I now offer "Arne" to the American +public.</p> + +<p class="p4b"> +<span style="margin-left: 10em;">RASMUS B. ANDERSON.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Asgard, Madison, Wis.</span>,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>August, 1881</i>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr class="r20" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER I.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> was a deep gorge between two +mountains; through this gorge a large, full +stream flowed heavily over a rough and stony +bottom. Both sides were high and steep, +and so one side was bare; but close to its +foot, and so near the stream that the latter +sprinkled it with moisture every spring and +autumn, stood a group of fresh-looking trees, +gazing upward and onward, yet unable to advance +this way or that.</p> + +<p>"What if we should clothe the mountain?" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> +said the juniper one day to the foreign oak, to +which it stood nearer than all the others. The +oak looked down to find out who it was that +spoke, and then it looked up again without +deigning a reply. The river rushed along so +violently that it worked itself into a white +foam; the north wind had forced its way +through the gorge and shrieked in the clefts +of the rocks; the naked mountain, with its +great weight, hung heavily over and felt cold. +"What if we should clothe the mountain?" +said the juniper to the fir on the other side. +"If anybody is to do it, I suppose it must be +we," said the fir, taking hold of its beard and +glancing toward the birch. "What do you +think?" But the birch peered cautiously up +at the mountain, which hung over it so threateningly +that it seemed as if it could scarcely +breathe. "Let us clothe it in God's name!" +said the birch. And so, though there were but +these three, they undertook to clothe the mountain. +The juniper went first.</p> + +<p>When they had gone a little way, they met +the heather. The juniper seemed as though +about to go past it. "Nay, take the heather +along," said the fir. And the heather joined +them. Soon it began to glide on before the +juniper. "Catch hold of me," said the heather. +The juniper did so, and where there was only a +wee crevice, the heather thrust in a finger, +and where it first had placed a finger, the juniper +took hold with its whole hand. They +crawled and crept along, the fir laboring on behind, +the birch also. "This is well worth doing," +said the birch.</p> + +<p>But the mountain began to ponder on what +manner of insignificant objects these might be +that were clambering up over it. And after it +had been considering the matter a few hundred +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +years it sent a little brook down to inquire. It +was yet in the time of the spring freshets, and +the brook stole on until it reached the heather. +"Dear, dear heather, cannot you let me pass; I +am so small." The heather was very busy; +only raised itself a little and pressed onward. +In, under, and onward went the brook. "Dear, +dear juniper, cannot you let me pass; I am so +small." The juniper looked sharply at it; but +if the heather had let it pass, why, in all reason, +it must do so too. Under it and onward +went the brook; and now came to the spot +where the fir stood puffing on the hill-side. +"Dear, dear fir, cannot you let me pass; I am +really so small," said the brook,—and it kissed +the fir's foot and made itself so very sweet. +The fir became bashful at this, and let it pass. +But the birch raised itself before the brook +asked it. "Hi, hi, hi!" said the brook and +grew. "Ha, ha, ha!" said the brook and grew. +"Ho, ho, ho!" said the brook, and flung the +heather and the juniper and the fir and the +birch flat on their faces and backs, up and +down these great hills. The mountain sat for +many hundred years musing on whether it had +not smiled a little that day.</p> + +<p>It was plain enough: the mountain did not +want to be clad. The heather fretted over +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> +this until it grew green again, and then it +started forward. "Fresh courage!" said the +heather.</p> + +<p>The juniper had half raised itself to look at +the heather, and continued to keep this position, +until at length it stood upright. It +scratched its head and set forth again, taking +such a vigorous foothold that it seemed as +though the mountain must feel it. "If you +will not have me, then I will have you." The +fir crooked its toes a little to find out whether +they were whole, then lifted one foot, found it +whole, then the other, which proved also to be +whole, then both of them. It first investigated +the ground it had been over, next where it +had been lying, and finally where it should go. +After this it began to wend its way slowly +along, and acted just as though it had never +fallen. The birch had become most wretchedly +soiled, but now rose up and made itself +tidy. Then they sped onward, faster and faster, +upward and on either side, in sunshine and in +rain. "What in the world can this be?" said +the mountain, all glittering with dew, as the +summer sun shone down on it,—the birds sang, +the wood-mouse piped, the hare hopped along, +and the ermine hid itself and screamed.</p> + +<p class="p4b">Then the day came when the heather could +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> +peep with one eye over the edge of the mountain. +"Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!" said the +heather, and away it went. "Dear me! what +is it the heather sees?" said the juniper, and +moved on until it could peer up. "Oh dear, +oh dear!" it shrieked, and was gone. "What +is the matter with the juniper to-day?" said +the fir, and took long strides onward in the +heat of the sun. Soon it could raise itself on +its toes and peep up. "Oh dear!" Branches +and needles stood on end in wonderment. It +worked its way forward, came up, and was gone. +"What is it all the others see, and not I?" +said the birch; and, lifting well its skirts, it +tripped after. It stretched its whole head up +at once. "Oh,—oh!—is not here a great +forest of fir and heather, of juniper and birch, +standing upon the table-land waiting for us?" +said the birch; and its leaves quivered in the +sunshine so that the dew trembled. "Aye, +this is what it is to reach the goal!" said the +juniper.</p> + +<hr class="r20" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER II.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">Up</span> on the hill-top it was that Arne was +born. His mother's name was Margit, and she +was the only child at the houseman's place,—Kampen.<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> +Once, in her eighteenth year, she +stayed too long at a dance; her companions had +left her, and so Margit thought that the way +home would be just as long whether she waited +until the dancing was over or not. And thus +it happened that she kept her seat until the +fiddler, known as Nils the tailor, suddenly laid +aside his fiddle, as was his wont when drink +took possession of him, let others troll the +tune, seized the prettiest girl, moved his foot +as evenly as the rhythm of a song, and with +his boot-heel took the hat from the head of +the tallest person present. "Ho!" said he. +When Margit went home that evening, the +moon-beams played on the snow with most wondrous +beauty. After she had reached her bed-chamber +she was moved to look out once more. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> +She took off her boddice, but remained standing +with it in her hand. Then she felt that +she was cold, closed the door hastily, undressed, +and nestled in under the robe. That night +Margit dreamed about a great red cow that had +wandered into the field. She went to drive +it out, but though she tried hard, she could not +stir from the spot; the cow stood calmly grazing +there until it grew plump and well fed, +and every now and then it looked at her, with +large, heavy eyes.</p> + +<p>The next time there was a dance in the parish +Margit was present. She cared little for +dancing that evening; she kept her seat to +listen to the music, and it seemed strange to +her that there were not others also who preferred +this. But when the evening had worn +on, the fiddler arose and wanted to dance. +All at once he went directly to Margit Kampen. +She scarcely knew what she was about, +but she danced with Nils the tailor.</p> + +<p>Soon the weather grew warm, and there was +no more dancing. That spring Margit took +such interest in a little lamb that had fallen +ill, that her mother almost thought she was +overdoing it.</p> + +<p>"It is only a little lamb," said the mother.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but it is ill," replied Margit.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +It was some time since she had been to +church; she wished to have her mother go, she +said, and some one must be at home. One +Sunday, later in the summer, the weather was +so fine that the hay could well be left out for +twenty-four hours, and the mother said that +now they surely might both go. Margit could +not reasonably object to this, and got ready +for church; but when they were so far on their +way that they could hear the church-bells, +she burst into tears. The mother grew deathly +pale: but they went on, the mother in advance, +Margit following, listened to the sermon, +joined in all the hymns to the very last, +followed the prayer, and heard the bell ring +before they left. But when they were seated +in the family-room at home again, the mother +took Margit's face between her hands and +said:—</p> + +<p>"Hide nothing from me, my child."</p> + +<p>There came another winter when Margit did +not dance. But Nils the tailor fiddled, took +more strong drink than ever, and always, toward +the close of the evening, swung the prettiest +girl at the party. In those days, it was +told as a certain fact that he could marry +whom he pleased among the daughters of the +first gard-owners in the parish; some added +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +that Eli Böen herself had courted him for her +daughter Birgit, who was madly in love with +him.</p> + +<p>But just at that time an infant of the houseman's +daughter at Kampen was brought to baptism; +it was christened Arne, and tailor Nils +was spoken of as its father.</p> + +<p>The evening of the same day Nils was at a +large wedding; there he got drunk. He would +not play, but danced all the time, and scarcely +brooked having others on the floor. But when +he crossed to Birgit Böen and asked her to +dance, she declined. He gave a short laugh, +turned on his heel, and caught hold of the first +girl he encountered. She resisted. He looked +down; it was a little dark maiden who had +been sitting gazing fixedly at him, and who +was now pale. Bowing lightly over her, he +whispered,—</p> + +<p>"Will you not dance with <i>me</i>, Karen?"</p> + +<p>She made no reply. He asked once more. +Then she answered in a whisper, as he had +asked,—</p> + +<p>"<i>That</i> dance might go farther than I +wished."</p> + +<p>He drew slowly back, but once in the middle +of the floor, he made a spring and danced the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +halling<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> alone. No one else was dancing; the +others stood looking on in silence.</p> + +<p>Afterwards he went out in the barn, and +there he lay down and wept. +Margit kept at home with the little boy. +She heard about Nils, how he went from dance +to dance, and she looked at the child and +wept,—looked at him again and was happy. +The first thing she taught him was to say papa; +but this she dared not do when the mother, or +the grandmother, as she was henceforth called, +chanced to be near. The result of this was +that it was the grandmother whom the boy +called papa. It cost Margit much to break +him of this, and thus she fostered in him an +early shrewdness. He was not very large before +he knew that Nils the tailor was his +father, and when he reached the age in +which the romantic acquires a flavor, he became +also aware what sort of a man tailor +Nils was. The grandmother had strictly forbidden +even the mention of his name; what +she mainly strove for was to have the houseman's +place, Kampen, become an independent +gard, so that her daughter and her boy might +be free from care. She availed herself of the +gard-owner's poverty, effected the purchase of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +the place, paid off a portion of the money each +year, and managed the business like a man, for +she had been a widow for fourteen years. +Kampen was a large place, and had been extended +until now it fed four cows, sixteen +sheep, and a horse in which she was half owner.</p> + +<p>Nils the tailor meanwhile took to roving +about the parish; his business had fallen off, +partly because he felt less interest in it, partly +also because he was not liked as before. He +gave, therefore, more time to fiddling; this led +oftener to drinking and thence to fighting and +evil days. There were those who had heard +him say he was unhappy.</p> + +<p>Arne might have been about six years old, +when one winter day he was frolicking in the +bed, whose coverlet he had up for a sail, while +he was steering with a ladle. The grandmother +sat spinning in the room, absorbed in her own +thoughts, and nodded occasionally as though +she would make a fixed fact of something she +was thinking about. The boy knew that he +was unheeded, and he fell to singing, just as he +had learned it, the rough, wild song about +tailor Nils:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Unless 'twas only yesterday hither first you came,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You've surely heard already of Nils the tailor's fame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Unless 'twas but this morning you came among us first,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You've heard how he knocked over tall Johan Knutson Kirst.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +<span class="i0">"How, in his famous barn-fight with Ola Stor-Johann,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He said, 'Bring down your porridge when we two fight again.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"That fighting fellow, Bugge, a famous man was he:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His name was known all over fjord and fell and sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Now, choose the place, you tailor, where I shall knock you down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then I'll spit upon it, and there I'll lay your crown.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Ah, only come so near, I may catch your scent, my man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your bragging hurts nobody; don't dream it ever can.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The first round was a poor one, and neither man could beat;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But both kept in their places, and steady on their feet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The second round, poor Bugge was beaten black and blue.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Little Bugge, are you tired? It's going hard with you.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The third round, Bugge tumbled, and bleeding there he lay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Now, Bugge, where's your bragging?' 'Bad luck to me to-day!'"<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>More the boy did not sing; but there were +two other stanzas which his mother was not +likely to have taught him:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Have you seen a tree cast its shadow on yesterday's snow?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have you seen how Nils does his smiles on the girls bestow?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Have you looked at Nils when to dance he just commences?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, my girl, you must go; it is too late, when you've lost your senses."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>These two stanzas the grandmother knew, +and they came all the more distinctly into her +mind because they were not sung. She said +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> +nothing to the boy; but to the mother she +said, "Teach the boy well about your own +shame; do not forget the last verses."</p> + +<p>Nils the tailor was so broken down by +drink that he was no longer the man he had +been, and some people thought his end could +not be far distant.</p> + +<p>It so happened that two American gentlemen +were visiting in the parish, and having +heard that a wedding was going on in the +vicinity, wanted to attend it, that they might +learn the customs of the country. Nils was +playing there. They gave each a dollar to the +fiddler, and asked for a halling; but no one +would come forward to dance it, however much +it was urged. Several begged Nils himself to +dance. "He was best, after all," they said. +He refused, but the request became still more +urgent, and finally unanimous. This was what he +wanted. He gave his fiddle to another player, +took off his jacket and cap, and stepped smiling +into the middle of the room. He was followed +by the same eager attention as of old, +and this gave him his old strength. The +people crowded closely together, those who +were farthest back climbing upon tables and +benches. Some of the girls were perched up +higher than all the rest, and foremost among +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> +these—a tall girl with sunny brown hair of +a varying tint, with blue eyes deeply set beneath +a strong forehead, a large mouth that +often smiled, drawing a little to one side as +it did so—was Birgit Böen. Nils saw her, +as he glanced up at the beam. The music +struck up, a deep silence followed, and he +began. He dashed forward along the floor, his +body inclining to one side, half aslant, keeping +time to the fiddle. Crouching down, he balanced +himself, now on one foot, now on the +other, flung his legs crosswise under him, +sprang up again, stood as though about to make +a fling, and then moved on aslant as before. +The fiddle was handled by skillful fingers, and +more and more fire was thrown into the tune. +Nils threw his head farther and farther back, +and suddenly his boot-heel touched the beam, +sending the dust from the ceiling in showers +over them all. The people laughed and +shouted about him; the girls stood well-nigh +breathless. The tune hurrahed with the rest, +stimulating him anew with more and more +strongly-marked accents, nor did he resist the +exciting influences. He bent forward, hopped +along in time to the music, made ready apparently +for a fling, but only as a hoax, and then +moved on, his body aslant as before; and when +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +he seemed the least prepared for it, his boot-heel +thundered against the beam again and +again, whereupon he turned summersaults forwards +and backwards in the air, landing each +time erect on his feet. He broke off abruptly, +and the tune, running through some wild variations, +worked its way down to a deep tone in +the bass, where it quivered and vibrated, and +died away with a long-drawn stroke of the bow. +The crowd dispersed, and loud, eager conversation, +mingled with shouts and exclamations, +broke the silence. Nils stood leaning against +the wall, and the American gentlemen went +over to him, with their interpreter, and each +gave him five dollars.</p> + +<p>The Americans talked a little with the interpreter, +whereupon the latter asked Nils if he +would go with them as their servant; he should +have whatever wages he wanted. "Whither?" +asked Nils. The people crowded about them +as closely as possible. "Out into the world," +was the reply. "When?" asked Nils, and +looking around with a shining face, he caught +Birgit Böen's eyes, and did not let them go +again. "In a week, when we come back here," +was the answer. "It is possible I will be +ready," replied Nils, weighing his two five-dollar +pieces. He had rested one arm on the shoulder +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> +of a man standing near him, and it trembled +so that the man wanted to help him to the +bench.</p> + +<p>"It is nothing," replied Nils, made some +wavering steps across the floor, then some firm +ones, and, turning, asked for a spring-dance.<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a></p> + +<p>All the girls had come to the front. Casting +a long, lingering look about him, he went +straightway to one of them in a dark skirt; it +was Birgit Böen. He held out his hand, and +she gave him both of hers; then he laughed, +drew back, caught hold of the girl beside her, +and danced away with perfect abandon. The +blood coursed up in Birgit's neck and face. A +tall man, with a mild countenance, was standing +directly behind her; he took her by the hand +and danced off after Nils. The latter saw this, +and—it might have been only through heedlessness—he +danced so hard against them that the +man and Birgit were sent reeling over and fell +heavily on the floor. Shouting and laughter +arose about them. Birgit got up at last, went +aside, and wept bitterly.</p> + +<p>The man with the mild face rose more slowly +and went straight over to Nils, who was still +dancing. "You had better stop a little," said +the man. Nils did not hear, and then the man +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> +took him by the arm. Nils tore himself away +and looked at him. "I do not know you," said +he, with a smile. "No; but you shall learn to +know me," said the man with the mild face, and +with this he struck Nils a blow over one eye. +Nils, who was wholly unprepared for this, was +plunged heavily across the sharp-edged hearth-stone, +and when he promptly tried to rise, he +found that he could not; his back was broken.</p> + +<p>At Kampen a change had taken place. The +grandmother had been growing very feeble of +late, and when she realized this she strove +harder than ever to save money enough to pay +off the last installment on the gard. "Then +you and the boy will have all you need," she +said to her daughter. "And if you let any one +come in and waste it for you, I will turn in my +grave." During the autumn, too, she had the +pleasure of being able to stroll up to the former +head-gard with the last remaining portion of +the debt, and happy was she when she had +taken her seat again, and could say, "Now that +is done!" But at that very time she was attacked +by her last illness; she betook herself +forthwith to her bed, and never rose again. +Her daughter buried her in a vacant spot in the +churchyard, and placed over her a handsome +cross, whereon was inscribed her name and age, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> +with a verse from one of Kingo's<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> hymns. A +fortnight after the grandmother was laid in her +grave, her Sunday gown was made over into +clothes for the boy, and when he put them on, +he became as solemn as though he were his +grandmother come back again. Of his own +accord, he went to the book with big print and +large clasps she had read and sung from every +Sunday, opened it, and there inside found her +spectacles. These the boy had never been permitted +to touch during his grandmother's lifetime; +now he timidly took them up, put them +on his nose, and looked through them into the +book. All was misty. "How strange," thought +the boy, "it was through them grandmother +could read the word of God." He held them +high up toward the light to see what the matter +was, and—the spectacles lay on the floor.</p> + +<p>He was much alarmed, and when the door +at that moment opened, it seemed to him as +though his grandmother must be coming in, +but it was his mother, and behind her, six men, +who, with much tramping and noise, were +bearing in a litter, which they placed in the +middle of the floor. For a long time the door +was left open, so that it grew cold in the room.</p> + +<p class="p4b">On the litter lay a man with dark hair and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> +pale face; the mother moved about weeping. +"Lay him carefully on the bed," she begged, +herself lending a helping hand. But while the +men were moving with him, something made +a noise under their feet. "Oh, it is only +grandmother's spectacles," thought the boy, but +he did not say so.</p> + +<hr class="r20" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER III.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was in the autumn, as before stated. A +week after Nils the tailor was borne into Margit +Kampen's home, there came word to him +from the Americans that he must hold himself +in readiness to start. He lay just then writhing +under a terrible attack of pain, and, gnashing +his teeth, he shrieked, "Let them go to +hell!" Margit stood motionless, as though +he had made no answer. He noticed this, and +presently he repeated slowly and feebly, "Let +them—go."</p> + +<p>As the winter advanced, he improved so much +that he was able to sit up, although his health +was shattered for life. The first time he actually +sat up, he took out his fiddle and tuned it, +but became so agitated that he had to go to +bed again. He grew very taciturn, but was +not hard to get along with; and as time wore +on, he taught the boy to read, and began to take +work in at home. He never went out, and +would not talk with those who dropped in to +see him. At first Margit used to bring him the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +parish news; he was always gloomy afterwards, +so she ceased to do so.</p> + +<p>When spring had fairly set in, he and Margit +would sit longer than usual talking together +after the evening meal. The boy was then sent +off to bed. Some time later in the spring their +bans were published in church, after which they +were quietly married.</p> + +<p>He did his share of work in the fields now, +and managed everything in a sensible, orderly +way. Margit said to the boy, "There is both +profit and pleasure in him. Now you must be +obedient and good, that you may do your best +for him."</p> + +<p>Margit had remained tolerably stout through +all her sorrow; she had a ruddy face and very +large eyes, which looked all the larger because +there was a ring round them. She had full +lips, a round face, and looked healthy and +strong, although she was not very strong. At +this period of her life, she was looking better +than ever; and she always sang when she was +at work, as had ever been her wont.</p> + +<p>One Sunday afternoon, father and son went +out to see how the crops were thriving that +year. Arne ran about his father, shooting with +a bow and arrow. Nils had himself made +them for the boy. Thus they passed on directly +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> +up toward the road leading past the church +and parsonage, down to what was called the +broad valley. Nils seated himself on a stone +by the roadside and fell to dreaming; the boy +shot into the road and sprang after his arrow,—it +was in the direction of the church. "Not +too far away!" said the father. While the +boy was playing there, he paused, as though +listening. "Father, I hear music!" The +father listened too; they heard the sounds of +fiddling, almost drowned at times by loud +shouts and wild uproar; but above all rose the +steady rumbling of cart-wheels and the clatter +of horses' feet; it was a bridal procession, +wending its way home from church. "Come +here, boy," shouted the father, and Arne knew +by the tones of the voice that he must make +haste. The father had hurriedly risen and +hidden behind a large tree. The boy hastened +after him. "Not here, over there!" cried +the father, and the boy stepped behind an +alder-copse. Already the carts were winding +round the birch-grove; they came at a wild +speed, the horses were white with foam, drunken +people were crying and shouting; father and +son counted cart after cart,—there were in all +fourteen. In the first sat two fiddlers, and the +wedding march sounded merrily through the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> +clear air,—a boy stood behind and drove. +Afterwards came a crowned bride, who sat on +a high seat and glittered in the sunshine; she +smiled, and her mouth drew to one side; beside +her sat a man clad in blue and with a mild face. +The bridal train followed, the men sat on the +women's laps; small boys were sitting behind, +drunken men were driving,—there were six +people to one horse; the man who presided at +the feast came in the last cart, holding a keg of +brandy on his lap. They passed by screaming +and singing, and drove recklessly down the +hill; the fiddling, the voices, the rattling of +wheels, lingered behind them in the dust; the +breeze bore up single shrieks, soon only a dull +rumbling, and then nothing. Nils stood motionless; +there was a rustling behind him, he +turned; it was the boy who was creeping forward.</p> + +<p>"Who was it, father?" But the boy started, +for his father's face was dreadful. Arne +stood motionless waiting for an answer; then +he remained where he was because he got none. +After some time he became impatient and ventured +again. "Shall we go?" Nils was still +gazing after the bridal train, but he now controlled +himself and started on. Arne followed +after. He put an arrow into the bow, shot it, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +and ran. "Do not trample down the grass," +said Nils gruffly. The boy let the arrow lie +and came back. After a while he had forgotten +this, and once when his father paused, he +lay down and turned summersaults. "Do not +trample down the grass, I say." Here Arne +was seized by one arm, and lifted by it with +such violence that it was almost put out of +joint. Afterward, he walked quietly behind.</p> + +<p>At the door Margit awaited them; she had +just come in from the stable, where she had evidently +had pretty hard work, for her hair was +tumbled, her linen soiled, her dress likewise, +but she stood in the door smiling. "A couple +of the cows got loose and have been into mischief; +now they are tied again."</p> + +<p>"You might make yourself a little tidy on +Sunday," said Nils, as he went past into the +house.</p> + +<p>"Yes, there is some sense in tidying up now +that the work is done," said Margit, and followed +him. She began to fix herself at once, +and sang while she was doing so. Now Margit +sang well, but sometimes there was a little +huskiness in her voice.</p> + +<p>"Stop that screaming," said Nils; he had +thrown himself on his back across the bed. +Margit stopped.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +Then the boy came storming in. "There +has come into the yard a great black dog, a +dreadful looking"—</p> + +<p>"Hold your tongue, boy," said Nils from the +bed, and thrust out one foot to stamp on the +floor with it. "A devilish noise that boy is always +making," he muttered afterward, and drew +his foot up again.</p> + +<p>The mother held up a warning finger to the +boy. "You surely must see that father is not +in a good humor," she meant. "Will you not +have some strong coffee with syrup in it?" said +she; she wanted to put him in a good humor +again. This was a drink the grandmother had +liked, and the rest of them too. Nils did not +like it at all, but had drunk it because the +others did so. "Will you not have some strong +coffee with syrup in it?" repeated Margit; for +he had made no reply the first time. Nils +raised himself up on both elbows and shrieked, +"Do you think I will pour down such slops?"</p> + +<p>Margit was struck with surprise, and, taking +the boy with her, went out.</p> + +<p>They had a number of things to attend to +outside, and did not come in before supper-time. +Then Nils was gone. Arne was sent +out into the field to call him, but found him nowhere. +They waited until the supper was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +nearly cold, then ate, and still Nils had not +come. Margit became uneasy, sent the boy to +bed, and sat down to wait. A little after midnight +Nils appeared.</p> + +<p>"Where have you been, dear?" asked she.</p> + +<p>"That is none of your business," he answered, +and slowly sat down on the bench.</p> + +<p>He was drunk.</p> + +<p>After this, Nils often went out in the parish, +and always came home drunk. "I cannot stand +it at home here with you," said he once when +he came in. She tried gently to defend herself, +and then he stamped on the floor and bade her +be silent: if he was drunk, it was her fault; if +he was wicked, it was her fault too; if he was +a cripple and an unfortunate being for his whole +life, why, she was to blame too, and that infernal +boy of hers.</p> + +<p>"Why were you always dangling after me?" +said he, and wept. "What harm had I done +you that you could not leave me in peace?"</p> + +<p>"Lord have mercy on me!" said Margit. +"Was it I who went after you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it was!" he shrieked as he arose, and +amid tears he continued: "You have succeeded +in getting what you wanted. I drag myself +about from tree to tree. I go every day and +look at my own grave. But I could have lived +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +in splendor with the finest gard girl in the +parish. I might have traveled as far as the sun +goes, had not you and your damned boy put +yourselves in my way."</p> + +<p>She tried again to defend herself. "It was, +at all events, not the boy's fault."</p> + +<p>"If you do not hold your tongue, I will +strike you!"—and he struck her.</p> + +<p>After he had slept himself sober the next +day, he was ashamed, and was especially kind +to the boy. But soon he was drunk again, and +then he struck the mother. At last he got to +striking her almost every time he was drunk. +The boy cried and lamented; then he struck +him too. Sometimes his repentance was so +deep that he felt compelled to leave the house. +About this time his fondness for dancing revived. +He began to go about fiddling as in former +days, and took the boy with him to carry +the fiddle-case. Thus Arne saw a great deal. +The mother wept because he had to go along, +but dared not say so to the father. "Hold +faithfully to God, and learn nothing evil," she +begged, and tenderly caressed her boy. But +at the dances there was a great deal of diversion; +at home with the mother there was none +at all. Arne turned more and more from her +and to the father; she saw this and was silent. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +At the dances Arne learned many songs, and +he sang them at home to his father; this +amused the latter, and now and then the boy +could even get him to laugh. This was so flattering +to Arne that he exerted himself to learn +as many songs as possible; soon he noticed +what kind the father liked best, and what it +was that made him laugh. When there was +not enough of this element in the songs he was +singing, the boy added to it himself, and this +early gave him practice in adapting words to +music. It was chiefly lampoons and odious +things about people who had risen to power and +prosperity, that the father liked and the boy +sang.</p> + +<p>The mother finally concluded to take him +with her to the stable of evenings; numerous +were the pretexts he found to escape going, but +when, nevertheless, she managed to take him +with her, she talked kindly to him about God +and good things, usually ending by taking him +in her arms, and, amid blinding tears, begging +him, entreating him not to become a bad man.</p> + +<p>The mother taught the boy to read, and he +was surprisingly quick at learning. The father +was proud of this, and, especially when he was +drunk, told Arne he had his head.</p> + +<p>Soon the father fell into the habit, when +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +drink got the better of him, of calling on Arne +at dancing-parties to sing for the people. The +boy always obeyed, singing song after song +amid laughter and uproar; the applause pleased +the son almost more than it did the father, and +finally there was no end to the songs Arne +could sing. Anxious mothers who heard this, +went themselves to his mother and told her of +it; their reason for so doing being that the +character of these songs was not what it should +be. The mother put her arms about her boy +and forbade him, in the name of God and all +that was sacred, to sing such songs, and now it +seemed to Arne that everything he took delight +in his mother opposed. For the first time he +told his father what his mother had said. She +had to suffer for this the next time the father +was drunk; he held his peace until then. But +no sooner had it become clear to the boy what +he had done than in his soul he implored pardon +of God and her; he could not bring himself +to do so in spoken words. His mother was +just as kind as ever to him, and this cut him to +the quick.</p> + +<p>Once, however, he forgot this. He had a +faculty for mimicking people. Above all, he +could talk and sing as others did. The mother +came in one evening when Arne was entertaining +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +his father with this, and it occurred to the +father, after she had gone out, that the boy +should imitate his mother's singing. Arne refused +at first, but his father, who lay over on the +bed and laughed until it shook, insisted finally +that he should sing like his mother. She is +gone, thought the boy, and cannot hear it, and +he mimicked her singing as it sounded sometimes +when she was hoarse and choked with +tears. The father laughed until it seemed almost +hideous to the boy, and he stopped of himself. +Just then the mother came in from the +kitchen; she looked long and hard at the boy, +as she crossed the floor to a shelf after a milk-pan +and turned to carry it out.</p> + +<p>A burning heat ran through his whole body; +she had heard it all. He sprang down from +the table where he had been sitting, went out, +cast himself on the ground, and it seemed as +though he must bury himself out of sight. He +could not rest, and got up feeling that he must +go farther on. He went past the barn, and behind +it sat the mother, sewing on a fine, new +shirt, just for him. She had always been in +the habit of singing a hymn over her work +when she sat sewing, but now she was not singing. +She was not weeping, either; she only +sat and sewed. Arne could bear it no longer +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> +he flung himself down in the grass directly in +front of her, looked up at her, and wept and +sobbed bitterly. The mother dropped her work +and took his head between her hands.</p> + +<p>"Poor Arne!" said she, and laid her own +beside his. He did not try to say a word, but +wept as he had never done before. "I knew +you were good at heart," said the mother, and +stroked down his hair.</p> + +<p>"Mother, you must not say no to what I am +going to ask for," was the first thing he could +say.</p> + +<p>"That you know I cannot do," answered +she.</p> + +<p>He tried to stop crying, and then stammered +out, with his head still in her lap: "Mother, +sing something for me."</p> + +<p>"My dear, I cannot," said she, softly.</p> + +<p>"Mother, sing something for me," begged +the boy, "or I believe I will never be able to +look at you again."</p> + +<p>She stroked his hair, but was silent.</p> + +<p>"Mother, sing, sing, I say! Sing," he begged, +"or I will go so far away that I will never +come home any more."</p> + +<p>And while he, now fourteen in his fifteenth +year as he was, lay there with his head in his +mother's lap, she began to sing over him:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> +<span class="i0">"Father, stretch forth Thy mighty hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy Holy Spirit send yonder:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bless Thou the child on the lonely strand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor in its sports let it wander.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slipp'ry the way, the water deep,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lord, in Thy arm but the darling keep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then through Thy mercy 't will never<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drown, but with Thee live forever.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Missing her child, in disquiet sore,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Much for its safety fearing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Often the mother calls from her door,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Never an answer hearing,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then comes the thought: where'er it be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blessed Lord, it is near to Thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jesus will guide his brother<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Home to the anxious mother."<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="p4b">She sang several verses. Arne lay still: there +descended upon him a blessed peace, and under +its influence he felt a refreshing weariness. +The last thing he distinctly heard was about +Jesus: it bore him into the midst of a great +light, and there it seemed as though twelve or +thirteen were singing; but the mother's voice +rose above them all. A lovelier voice he had +never heard; he prayed that he might sing +thus. It seemed to him that if he were to sing +right softly he might do so; and now he sang +softly, tried again softly, and still more softly, +and then, rejoiced at the bliss that seemed almost +dawning for him, he joined in with full +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +voice, and the spell was broken. He awakened, +looked about him, listened, but heard nothing, +save the everlasting, mighty roar of the force, +and the little creek that flowed past the barn, +with its low and incessant murmuring. The +mother was gone,—she had laid under his head +the half-finished shirt and her jacket.</p> + +<hr class="r20" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER IV.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">When</span> the time came to take the herds up +into the woods, Arne wanted to tend them. +His father objected; the boy had never tended +cattle, and he was now in his fifteenth year. +But he was so urgent that it was finally arranged +as he wished; and the entire spring, +summer, and autumn he was in the woods by +himself the livelong day, only going home to +sleep.</p> + +<p>He took his books up there with him. He +read and carved letters in the bark of the trees; +he went about thinking, longing, and singing. +When he came home in the evening his father +was often drunk, and beat the mother, cursed +her and the parish, and talked about how he +might once have journeyed far away. Then +the longing for travel entered the boy's mind +too. There was no comfort at home, and the +books opened other worlds to him; sometimes +it seemed as though the air, too, wafted him far +away over the lofty mountains.</p> + +<p>So it happened about midsummer that he +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> +met Kristian, the captain's eldest son, who came +with the servant boy to the woods after the +horses, in order to get a ride home. He was a +few years older than Arne, light-hearted and +gay, unstable in all his thoughts, but nevertheless +firm in his resolves. He spoke rapidly and +in broken sentences, and usually about two +things at once; rode horseback without a saddle, +shot birds on the wing, went fly-fishing, +and seemed to Arne the goal of his aspirations. +He also had his head full of travel, and told +Arne about foreign lands until everything about +them was radiant. He discovered Arne's fondness +for reading, and now carried up to him +those books he had read himself. After Arne +had finished reading these, Kristian brought +him new ones; he sat there himself on Sundays, +and taught Arne how to find his way in the +geography and the map; and all summer and +autumn Arne read until he grew pale and +thin.</p> + +<p>In the winter he was allowed to read at +home; partly because he was to be confirmed +the next year, partly because he always knew +how to manage his father. He began to go to +school; but there he took most comfort when +he closed his eyes and fancied himself over his +books at home; besides, there were no longer +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +any companions for him among the peasant +boys.</p> + +<p>His father's ill-treatment of the mother increased +with years, as did also his fondness for +drink and his bodily suffering. And when +Arne, notwithstanding this, had to sit and +amuse him, in order to furnish the mother +with an hour's peace, and then often talk of +things he now, in his heart, despised, he felt +growing within him a hatred for his father. +This he hid far down in his heart, as he did +his love for his mother. When he was with +Kristian, their talk ran on great journeys and +books; even to him he said nothing about how +things were at home. But many times after +these wide-ranging talks, when he was walking +home alone, wondering what might now meet +him there, he wept and prayed to God, in the +starry heavens, to grant that he might soon be +allowed to go away.</p> + +<p>In the summer he and Kristian were confirmed. +Directly afterward, the latter carried +out his plan. His father had to let him go +from home and become a sailor. He presented +Arne with his books, promised to write often +to him,—and went away.</p> + +<p>Now Arne was alone.</p> + +<p>About this time he was again filled with a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> +desire to write songs. He no longer patched +up old ones; he made new ones, and wove into +them all that grieved him most.</p> + +<p>But his heart grew too heavy, and his sorrow +broke forth in his songs. He now lay through +long, sleepless nights, brooding, until he felt +sure that he could bear this no longer, but must +journey far away, seek Kristian, and not say a +word about it to any one. He thought of his +mother, and what would become of her,—and +he could scarcely look her in the face.</p> + +<p>He sat up late one evening reading. When +his heart became too gloomy, he took refuge in +his books, and did not perceive that they increased +the venom. His father was at a wedding, +but was expected home that evening; his +mother was tired, and dreaded her husband's +return; had therefore gone to bed. Arne started +up at the sound of a heavy fall in the passage +and the rattling of something hard, which +struck against the door. It was his father who +had come home.</p> + +<p>Arne opened the door and looked at him.</p> + +<p>"Is that you, my clever boy? Come and help +your father up!"</p> + +<p>He was raised up and helped in toward the +bench. Arne took up the fiddle-case, carried +it in, and closed the door.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> +"Yes, look at me, you clever boy. I am not +handsome now; this is no longer tailor Nils. +This I say—to you, that you—never shall +drink brandy; it is—the world and the flesh +and the devil—He resisteth the proud but +giveth grace unto the humble.—Ah, woe, woe +is me!—How far it has gone with me!"</p> + +<p>He sat still a while, then he sang, weeping,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Merciful Lord, I come to Thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Help, if there can be help for me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though by the mire of sin defiled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm still thine own dear ransomed child."<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Lord, I am not worthy that Thou shouldest +come under my roof; but speak the word +only"—He flung himself down, hid his face +in his hands, and sobbed convulsively. Long +he lay thus, and then he repeated word for +word from the Bible, as he had learned it probably +more than twenty years before: "Then +she came and worshiped Him, saying, Lord, +help me! But he answered and said, It is not +meet to take the children's bread, and to cast +it to dogs. And she said, Truth, Lord, yet the +dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their +master's table!"</p> + +<p>He was silent now, and dissolved in a flood +of tears.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> +The mother had awakened long since, but +had not dared raise her eyes, now that her +husband was weeping like one who is saved; +she leaned on her elbows and looked up.</p> + +<p>But scarcely had Nils descried her, than he +shrieked out: "Are you staring at me; you, +too?—you want to see, I suppose, what you +have brought me to. Aye, this is the way I +look, exactly so!" He rose up, and she hid +herself under the robe. "No, do not hide, I +will find you easily enough," said he, extending +his right hand, and groping his way along +with outstretched forefinger. "Tickle, tickle!" +said he, as he drew off the covers and +placed his finger on her throat.</p> + +<p>"Father!" said Arne.</p> + +<p>"Oh dear! how shriveled up and thin you +have grown. There is not much flesh here. +Tickle, tickle."</p> + +<p>The mother convulsively seized his hand +with both of hers, but could not free herself, +and so rolled herself into a ball.</p> + +<p>"Father!" said Arne.</p> + +<p>"So life has come into you now. How she +writhes, the fright! Tickle, tickle!"</p> + +<p>"Father!" said Arne. The room seemed to +swim about him.</p> + +<p>"Tickle, I say!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +She let go his hands and gave up.</p> + +<p>"Father!" shouted Arne. He sprang to the +corner, where stood an axe.</p> + +<p>"It is only from obstinacy that you do not +scream. You had better not do so either; I +have taken such a frightful fancy. Tickle, +tickle!"</p> + +<p>"Father!" shrieked Arne, seizing the axe, +but remained standing as though nailed to the +spot, for at that moment the father drew himself +up, gave a piercing cry, clutched at his +breast, and fell over. "Jesus Christ!" said +he, and lay quite still.</p> + +<p>Arne knew not where he stood or what he +stood over; he waited, as it were, for the room +to burst asunder, and for a strong light to break +in somewhere. The mother began to draw her +breath heavily, as though she were rolling off +some great weight. She finally half rose, and +saw the father lying stretched out on the floor, +the son standing beside him with an axe.</p> + +<p>"Merciful Lord, what have you done?" +she shrieked, and started up out of bed, threw +her skirt about her, and came nearer; then +Arne felt as if his tongue were unloosed.</p> + +<p>"He fell down himself," said he.</p> + +<p>"Arne, Arne, I do not believe you," cried +the mother, in a loud, rebuking tone. "Now +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> +Jesus be with you!" and she flung herself over +the corpse, with piteous lamentation.</p> + +<p>Now the boy came out of his stupor, and +dropping down on his knees, exclaimed, "As +surely as I look for mercy from God, he fell as +he stood there."</p> + +<p>"Then our Lord himself has been here," +said she, quietly; and, sitting on the floor, she +fixed her eyes on the corpse.</p> + +<p>Nils lay precisely as he fell, stiff, with open +eyes and mouth. His hands had drawn near +together, as though he had tried to clasp them, +but had been unable to do so.</p> + +<p>"Take hold of your father, you are so strong, +and help me lay him on the bed."</p> + +<p>And they took hold of him and laid him on +the bed. Margit closed his eyes and mouth, +stretched him out and folded his hands.</p> + +<p>Mother and son stood and looked at him. All +they had experienced until then neither seemed +so long nor contained so much as this moment. +If the devil himself had been there, the Lord +had been there also; the encounter had been +short. All the past was now settled.</p> + +<p>It was a little after midnight, and they had +to be there with the dead man until day +dawned. Arne crossed the floor, and made a +great fire on the hearth, the mother sat down +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> +by it. And now, as she sat there, it rushed +through her mind how many evil days she had +had with Nils; and then she thanked God, in +a loud, fervent prayer, for what He had done. +"But I have truly had some good days also," +said she, and wept as though she regretted her +recent thankfulness; and it ended in her taking +the greatest blame on herself who had acted +contrary to God's commandment, out of love +for the departed one, had been disobedient to +her mother, and therefore had been punished +through this sinful love.</p> + +<p>Arne sat down directly opposite her. The +mother's eyes were fixed on the bed.</p> + +<p>"Arne, you must remember that it was for +your sake I bore it all," and she wept, yearning +for a loving word in order to gain a support +against her own self-accusations, and comfort +for all coming time. The boy trembled +and could not answer. "You must never leave +me," sobbed she.</p> + +<p>Then it came suddenly to his mind what she +had been, in all this time of sorrow, and how +boundless would be her desolation should he, +as a reward for her great fidelity, forsake her +now.</p> + +<p>"Never, never!" he whispered, longing to go +to her, yet unable to do so.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> +They kept their seats, but their tears flowed +freely together. She prayed aloud, now for the +dead man, now for herself and her boy; and +thus, amid prayers and tears, the time passed. +Finally she said:—</p> + +<p>"Arne, you have such a fine voice, you +must sit over by the bed and sing for your +father."</p> + +<p>And it seemed as though strength was forthwith +given him to do so. He got up, and went +to fetch a hymn-book, then lit a torch, and +with the torch in one hand, the hymn-book in +the other, he sat down at the head of the bed +and, in a clear voice, sang Kingo's one hundred +and twenty-seventh hymn:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Turn from us, gracious Lord, thy dire displeasure!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let not thy bloody rod, beyond all measure,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chasten thy children, laden with sore oppressions,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For our transgressions."<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a></span> +</div></div> +<p><br /></p> + +<hr class="r20" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER V.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">Arne</span> became habitually silent and shy. He +tended cattle and made songs. He passed his +nineteenth birthday, and still he kept on tending +cattle. He borrowed books from the priest +and read; but he took interest in nothing else.</p> + +<p>The priest sent word to him one day that he +had better become a school-master, "because +the parish ought to derive benefit from your talents +and knowledge." Arne made no reply to +this; but the next day, while driving the sheep +before him, he made the following song:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Oh, my pet lamb, lift your head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though the stoniest path you tread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the mountains lonely,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still your bells follow only.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Oh, my pet lamb, walk with care,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lest you spoil all your wool beware,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mother must soon be sewing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Skins for the summer's going.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Oh, my pet lamb, try to grow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fat and fine wheresoe'er you go!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Know you not, little sweeting,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A spring lamb is dainty eating!"<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +One day in his twentieth year Arne chanced +to overhear a conversation between his mother +and the wife of the former gard owner; they +were disputing about the horse they owned in +common.</p> + +<p>"I must wait to hear what Arne says," remarked +the mother.</p> + +<p>"That lazy fellow!" was the reply. "He +would like, I dare say, to have the horse go +ranging about the woods as he does himself."</p> + +<p>The mother was now silent, although before +she had been arguing her own case well.</p> + +<p>Arne turned as red as fire. It had not occurred +to him before that his mother might +have to listen to taunting words for his sake, +and yet perhaps she had often been obliged to +do so. Why had she not told him of this?</p> + +<p>He considered the matter well, and now it +struck him that his mother scarcely ever talked +with him. But neither did he talk with her. +With whom did he talk, after all?</p> + +<p>Often on Sunday, when he sat quietly at +home, he felt a desire to read sermons to his +mother, whose eyes were poor; she had wept +too much in her day. But he did not have the +courage to do so. Many times he had wanted +to offer to read aloud to her from his own +books, when all was still in the house, and he +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> +thought the time must hang heavily on her +hands. But his courage failed him for this +too.</p> + +<p>"It cannot matter much. I must give up +tending the herds, and move down to mother."</p> + +<p>He let several days pass, and became firm +in his resolve. Then he drove the cattle far +around in the wood, and made the following +song:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The vale is full of trouble, but here sweet Peace may reign;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within this quiet forest no bailiffs may distrain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">None fight, as in the vale, in the Blessed Church's name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet if a church were here, it would no doubt be just the same.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"How peaceful is the forest:—true, the hawk is far from kind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I fear he now is striving the plumpest sparrow to find;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I fear yon eagle's coming to rob the kid of breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet perchance if long it lived, it might be tired to death.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The woodman fells one tree, and another rots away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The red fox killed the lambkin white at sunset yesterday;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wolf, though, killed the fox, and the wolf itself must die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Arne shot him down to-day before the dew was dry.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I'll hie me to the valley back—the forest is as bad;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I must see to take good heed, lest thinking drive me mad.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw a boy in my dreams, though where I cannot tell—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I know he had killed his father—I think it was in Hell."<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>He came home and told his mother that she +might send out in the parish after another +herd-boy; he wanted to manage the gard himself. +Thus it was arranged; but the mother +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> +was always after him with warnings not to +overtax himself with work. She used also to +prepare such good meals for him at this time +that he often felt ashamed; but he said nothing.</p> + +<p>He was working at a song, the refrain of +which was "Over the lofty mountains." He +never succeeded in finishing it, and this was +chiefly because he wanted to have the refrain +in every other line; finally he gave it up.</p> + +<p>But many of the songs he made got out +among the people, where they were well liked; +there were those who wished very much to talk +with him, especially as they had known him +from boyhood up. But Arne was shy of all +whom he did not know, and thought ill of +them, chiefly because he believed they thought +ill of him.</p> + +<p>His constant companion in the fields was a +middle-aged man, called Upland Knut, who had +a habit of singing over his work; but he always +sang the same song. After listening to this +for a few months, Arne was moved to ask him +if he did not know any others.</p> + +<p>"No," was the man's reply.</p> + +<p>Then after the lapse of several days, once +when Knut was singing his song, Arne asked:</p> + +<p>"How did you chance to learn this <i>one</i>?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +"Oh, it just happened so," said the man.</p> + +<p>Arne went straight from him into the house; +but there sat his mother weeping, a sight he had +not seen since his father's death. He pretended +not to notice her, and went toward the door +again; but he felt his mother looking sorrowfully +after him again and he had to stop.</p> + +<p>"What are you crying for, mother?"</p> + +<p>For a while his words were the only sound in +the room, and therefore they came back to him +again and again, so often that he felt they had +not been said gently enough. He asked once +more:—</p> + +<p>"What are you crying for?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am sure I do not know;" but now +she wept harder than ever.</p> + +<p>He waited a long time, then was forced to +say, as courageously as he could:—</p> + +<p>"There must be something you are crying +about!"</p> + +<p>Again there was silence. He felt very +guilty, although <i>she</i> had said nothing, and <i>he</i> +knew nothing.</p> + +<p>"It just happened so," said the mother. +Presently she added, "I am after all most fortunate," +and then she wept.</p> + +<p>But Arne hastened out, and he felt drawn +toward the Kamp gorge. He sat down to look +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +into it, and while he was sitting there, he too +wept. "If I only knew what I was crying for," +mused Arne.</p> + +<p>Above him, in the new-plowed field, Upland +Knut was singing his song:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ingerid Sletten of Willow-pool<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Had no costly trinkets to wear;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But a cap she had that was far more fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Although it was only of wool.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It had no trimming, and now was old,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But her mother who long had gone<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Had given it her, and so it shone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Ingerid more than gold.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For twenty years she laid it aside,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That it might not be worn away;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'My cap I'll wear on that blissful day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I shall become a bride.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For thirty years she laid it aside<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lest the colors might fade away.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'My cap I'll wear when to God I pray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A happy and grateful bride.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For forty years she laid it aside,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Still holding her mother as dear;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'My little cap, I certainly fear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I never shall be a bride.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"She went to look for the cap one day<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the chest where it long had lain;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But ah! her looking was all in vain,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cap had moldered away."<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Arne sat and listened as though the words +had been music far away up the slope. He +went up to Knut.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +"Have you a mother?" asked he.</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Have you a father?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; I have no father."</p> + +<p>"Is it long since they died?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; it is long since."</p> + +<p>"You have not many, I dare say, who care +for you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; not many."</p> + +<p>"Have you any one here?"</p> + +<p>"No, not here."</p> + +<p>"But yonder in your native parish?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; not there either."</p> + +<p>"Have you not any one at all who cares for +you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; I have not."</p> + +<p>But Arne went from him loving his own +mother so intensely that it seemed as though +his heart would break; and he felt, as it were, +a blissful light over him. "Thou Heavenly +Father," thought he, "Thou hast given her to +me, and such unspeakable love with the gift, +and I put this away from me; and one day +when I want it, she will be perhaps no more!" +He felt a desire to go to her, if for nothing +else only to look at her. But on the way, it +suddenly occurred to him: "Perhaps because +you did not appreciate her you may soon have +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +to endure the grief of losing her!" He stood +still at once. "Almighty God! what then +would become of me?"</p> + +<p class="p4b">He felt as though some calamity must be +happening at home. He hastened toward the +house; cold sweat stood on his brow; his feet +scarcely touched the ground. He tore open +the passage door, but within the whole atmosphere +was at once filled with peace. He softly +opened the door into the family-room. The +mother had gone to bed, the moon shone full in +her face, and she lay sleeping calmly as a +child.</p> + +<hr class="r20" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER VI.</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Some</span> days after this, mother and son, who of +late had been more together, agreed to be present +at the wedding of some relatives at a +neighboring gard. The mother had not been to +any party since she was a girl.</p> + +<p>They knew few people at the wedding, save +by name, and Arne thought it especially strange +that everybody stared at him wherever he went.</p> + +<p>Once some words were spoken behind him +in the passage; he was not sure, but he fancied +he understood them, and every drop of +blood rushed into his face whenever he thought +of them.</p> + +<p>He could not keep his eyes off the man who +had spoken these words; finally, he took a seat +beside him. But as he drew up to the table +he thought the conversation took another turn.</p> + +<p>"Well, now I am going to tell you a story, +which proves that nothing can be buried so +deep down in night that it will not find its way +into daylight," said the man, and Arne was +sure he looked at <i>him</i>. He was an ill-favored +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +man, with thin, red hair encircling a great, +round brow. Beneath were a pair of very +small eyes and a little bottle-shaped nose; but +the mouth was very large, with very pale, out-turned +lips. When he laughed, he showed +his gums. His hands lay on the table: they +were clumsy and coarse, but the wrists were +slender. He looked sharp and talked fast, but +with much effort. People nicknamed him the +Rattle-tongue, and Arne knew that tailor Nils +had dealt roughly with him in the old days.</p> + +<p>"Yes, there is a great deal of wickedness in +this world; it comes nearer home to us than +we think. But no matter; you shall hear now +of an ugly deed. Those who are old remember +Alf, Scrip Alf. 'Sure to come back!' said +Alf; that saying comes from him; for when +he had struck a bargain—and he could trade, +that fellow!—he flung his scrip on his back. +'Sure to come back,' said Alf. A devilish good +fellow, fine fellow, splendid fellow, this Alf, +Scrip Alf!</p> + +<p>"Well, there was Alf and Big Lazy-bones—aye, +you knew Big Lazy-bones?—he was big +and he was lazy too. He looked too long at +a shining black horse Scrip Alf drove and had +trained to spring like a summer frog. And +before Big Lazy-bones knew what he was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +about, he had given fifty dollars for the nag +Big Lazy-bones mounted a carriole,<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> as large as +life, to drive like a king with his fifty-dollar +horse; but now he might lash and swear until +the gard was all in a smoke; the horse ran, for +all that, against all the doors and walls that +were in the way; he was stone blind.</p> + +<p>"Afterwards, Alf and Big Lazy-bones fell to +quarreling about this horse all through the parish, +just like a couple of dogs. Big Lazy-bones +wanted his money back; but you may believe +he never got so much as two Danish shillings. +Scrip Alf thrashed him until the hair flew. +'Sure to come back,' said Alf. Devilish good +fellow, fine fellow, splendid fellow, this Alf—Scrip +Alf.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, some years passed by without +his being heard of again.</p> + +<p>"It might have been ten years later that he +was published on the church hill;<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> there had +been left to him a tremendous fortune. Big +Lazy-bones was standing by. 'I knew very +well,' said he, 'that it was money that was crying +for Scrip Alf, and not people.'</p> + +<p>"Now there was a great deal of gossip about +Alf; and out of it all was gathered that he had +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +been seen last on this side of Rören, and not on +the other. Yes, you remember the Rören road—the +old road?</p> + +<p>"But Big Lazy-bones had succeeded in rising +to great power and splendor, owning both farm +and complete outfit.</p> + +<p>"Moreover, he had professed great piety, and +everybody knew he did not become pious for +nothing—any more than other folks do. People +began to talk about it.</p> + +<p>"It was at this time that the Rören road was +to be changed, old-time folks wanted to go +straight ahead, and so it went directly over +Rören; but we like things level, and so the +road now runs down by the river. There was +a mining and a blasting, until one might have +expected Rören to come tumbling down. All +sorts of officials came there, but the amtmand<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a> +oftenest of all, for he was allowed double mileage. +And now, one day while they were digging +down among the rocks, some one went to +pick up a stone, but got hold of a hand that +was sticking out of the rocks, and so strong was +this hand that it sent the man who took hold of +it reeling backwards. Now he who found this +hand was Big Lazy-bones. The lensmand<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +was sauntering about there, he was called, and +the skeleton of a whole man was dug out. The +doctor was sent for too; he put the bones so +skillfully together that now only the flesh was +wanting. But people claimed that this skeleton +was precisely the same size as Scrip Alf. +'Sure to come back!' said Alf.</p> + +<p>"Every one thought it most strange that a +dead hand could upset a fellow like Big Lazy-bones, +even when it did not strike at all. The +lensmand talked seriously to him about it,—of +course when no one was by to hear. But then +Big Lazy-bones swore until everything grew +black about the lensmand.</p> + +<p>"'Well, well,' said the lensmand, 'if you +had nothing to do with this, you are just the +fellow to go to bed with the skeleton to-night; +hey?' 'To be sure I am,' replied Big Lazy-bones. +And now the doctor jointed the bones +firmly together, and placed the skeleton in one +of the beds of the barracks. In the other Big +Lazy-bones was to sleep, but the lensmand laid +down in his gown, close up to the wall. When +it grew dark and Big Lazy-bones had to go in +to his bed-fellow, it just seemed as though the +door shut of itself, and he stood in the dark. +But Big Lazy-bones fell to singing hymns, for +he had a strong voice. 'Why are you singing +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> +hymns?' asked the lensmand, outside of the +wall. 'No one knows whether he has had the +chorister,' answered Big Lazy-bones. Afterward +he fell to praying with all his might. +'Why are you praying?' asked the lensmand, +outside of the wall. 'He has no doubt been a +great sinner,' answered Big Lazy-bones. Then +for a long time all was still, and it really +seemed as though the lensmand must be sleeping. +Then there was a shriek that made the +barracks shake. 'Sure to come back!' An infernal +noise and uproar arose: 'Hand over those +fifty dollars of mine!' bellowed Big Lazy-bones, +and there followed a screaming and a wrestling; +the lensmand flung open the door, people +rushed in with sticks and stones, and there +lay Big Lazy-bones in the middle of the floor, +and on him was the skeleton."</p> + +<p>It was very still around the table. Finally +a man who was about to light his clay pipe, +said:—</p> + +<p>"He surely went mad after that day."</p> + +<p>"He did."</p> + +<p>Arne felt every one looking at him, and +therefore he could not raise his eyes.</p> + +<p>"It is, as I have said," put in the first +speaker; "nothing can be buried so deep +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> +down in night that it will not find its way into +daylight!"</p> + +<p>"Well, now I will tell about a son who beat +his own father," said a fair, heavily-built man, +with a round face. Arne knew not where he +was sitting.</p> + +<p>"It was a bully of a powerful race, over in +Hardanger; he was the ruin of many people. +His father and he disagreed about the yearly +allowance, and the result of this was that the +man had no peace at home or in the parish.</p> + +<p>"Owing to this he grew more and more +wicked, and his father took him to task. 'I +will take rebuke from no one,' said the son. +'From me you shall take it as long as I live,' +said the father. 'If you do not hold your +tongue I will beat you,' said the son, and sprang +to his feet. 'Aye, do so if you dare, and you +will never prosper in the world,' answered the +father, as he too rose. 'Do you think so?'—and +the son rushed at him and knocked him +down. But the father did not resist; he crossed +his arms and let his son do as he chose with +him.</p> + +<p>"The son beat him, seized hold of him and +dragged him to the door. 'I will have peace +in the house!' But when they came to the +door, the father raised himself up. 'Not farther +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +than to the door,' said he, 'for so far I +dragged my own father.' The son paid no heed +to this, but dragged his head across the threshold. +'Not farther than to the door, I say!' +Here the old man flung his son down at his +feet, and chastised him, just as though he were +a child."</p> + +<p>"That was badly done," said several.</p> + +<p>"Did not strike his father, though," Arne +thought some one said; but he was not sure +of it.</p> + +<p>"Now I shall tell <i>you</i> something," said Arne, +rising up, as pale as death, not knowing what +he was going to say. He only saw the words +floating about him like great snow-flakes. "I +will make a grasp at them hap-hazard!" and +he began.</p> + +<p>"A troll met a boy who was walking along +a road crying. 'Of whom are you most +afraid?' said the troll, 'of yourself, or of +others?' But the boy was crying, because he +had dreamed in the night that he had been +forced to kill his wicked father, and so he answered, +'I am most afraid of myself.' 'Then +be at peace with yourself, and never cry any +more; for hereafter you shall only be at war +with others.' And the troll went his way. But +the first person the boy met laughed at him, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> +and so the boy had to laugh back again. The +next person he met struck him; the boy had +to defend himself, and struck back. The third +person he met tried to kill him, and so the boy +had to take his life. Then everybody said +hard things about him, and therefore he knew +only hard things to say of everybody. They +locked their cupboards and doors against him, +so he had to steal his way to what he needed; +he even had to steal his night's rest. Since +they would not let him do anything good, he +had to do something bad. Then the parish +said, 'We must get rid of this boy; he is +so bad'; and one fine day they put him out of +the way. But the boy had not the least idea +that he had done anything wicked, and so after +death he came strolling right into the presence +of the Lord. There on a bench sat the father +he had not slain, and right opposite, on another +bench, sat all those who had forced him to do +wrong.</p> + +<p>"'Which bench are you afraid of?' asked +the Lord, and the boy pointed to the long one.</p> + +<p>"'Sit down there, beside your father,' said +the Lord, and the boy turned to do so.</p> + +<p>"Then the father fell from the bench, with +a great gash in his neck. In his place there +came one in the likeness of the boy, with repentant +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +countenance and ghastly features; then +another with drunken face and drooping form; +still another with the face of a madman, with +tattered clothes and with hideous laughter.</p> + +<p>"'Thus it might have been with you,' said +the Lord.</p> + +<p>"'Can that really be?' replied the boy, +touching the hem of the Lord's garment.</p> + +<p>"Then both benches fell down from heaven, +and the boy stood beside the Lord again and +laughed.</p> + +<p>"'Remember this when you awaken,' said +the Lord, and at that moment the boy awoke.</p> + +<p>"Now the boy who dreamed thus is I, and +they who tempted him by thinking him wicked +are you. I no longer fear myself, but I am +afraid of you. Do not stir up my evil passions, +for it is doubtful whether I may get hold +of the Lord's garment."</p> + +<p class="p4b">He rushed out, and the men looked at each +other.</p> + +<hr class="r20" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER VII.</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was the next day, in the barn of the same +gard. Arne had been drunk for the first time +in his life, was ill in consequence of it, and +had been lying in the barn almost twenty-four +hours. Now, turning over, he had propped +himself up on his elbows, and thus talked with +himself:—</p> + +<p>"Everything I look at becomes cowardice. +That I did not run away when I was a boy, +was cowardice; that I listened to father rather +than to mother, was cowardice; that I sang +those wicked songs for him was cowardice; I +became a herd-boy, that was from cowardice;—I +took to reading—oh, yes! that was from +cowardice, too; I wanted to hide away from +myself. Even after I was grown up, I did not +help mother against father—cowardice; that +I did not that night—ugh!—cowardice! I +should most likely have waited until <i>she</i> was +killed. I could not stand it at home after that—cowardice; +neither did I go my way—cowardice; +I did nothing, I tended cattle—cowardice. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> +To be sure, I had promised mother to +stay with her; but I should actually have been +cowardly enough to break the promise, had I +not been afraid to mingle with people. For I +am afraid of people chiefly because I believe +they see how bad I am. And it is fear of people +makes me speak ill of them—cursed cowardice! +I make rhymes from cowardice. I +dare not think in a straightforward manner +about my own affairs, and so I turn to those +of others—and that is to be a poet.</p> + +<p>"I should have sat down and cried until the +hills were turned into water, that is what I +should have done; but instead I say: 'Hush, +hush!' and set myself to rocking. And even +my songs are cowardly; for were they courageous +they would be better. I am afraid of +strong thoughts; afraid of everything that is +strong; if I do rise up to strength, it is in a +frenzy, and frenzy is cowardice. I am more +clever, more capable, better informed than I +seem to be. I am better than my words; but +through cowardice I dare not be what I am. +Fy! I drank brandy from cowardice; I wanted +to deaden the pain! Fy! it hurt. I drank, +nevertheless; drank, nevertheless; drank my +father's heart's blood, and yet I drank! The +fact is, my cowardice is beyond all bounds; +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> +but the most cowardly thing of all is that I can +sit here and say all this to myself.</p> + +<p>"Kill myself? Pooh! For that I am too +cowardly. And then I believe in God,—yes, +I believe in God. I long to go to Him; but +cowardice keeps me from Him. From so great +a change a cowardly person winces. But what +if I tried as well as I am able? Almighty +God! What if I tried? I might find a cure +that even my milksop nature could bear; for +I have no bone in me any longer, nor gristle; +only something fluid, slush.... What if I +tried, with good, mild books,—I am afraid +of the strong ones,—with pleasant stories and +legends, all such as are mild; and then a sermon +every Sunday and a prayer every evening, +and regular work, that religion may find fruitful +soil; it cannot do so amid slothfulness. +What if I tried, dear, gentle God of my +childhood,—what if I tried?"</p> + +<p>But some one opened the barn-door, and +hurried across the floor, pale as death, although +drops of sweat rolled down the face. It was +Arne's mother. It was the second day she had +been seeking for her son. She called his name +but did not pause to listen; only called and +rushed about, till he answered from the hay-mow, +where he was lying. She gave a loud +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +shriek, sprang to the mow more lightly than +a boy, and threw herself upon him.</p> + +<p>"Arne, Arne, are you here? So I have +really found you. I have been looking for you +since yesterday; I have searched the whole +night! Poor, poor Arne! I saw they had +wounded you. I wanted so much to talk with +you and comfort you; but then I never dare +talk with you! Arne, I saw you drink! O +God Almighty! let me never see it again!"</p> + +<p>It was long before she could say more. "Jesus +have mercy on you, my child; I saw you +drink! Suddenly you were gone, drunk and +crushed with grief as you were, and I ran +around to all the houses. I went far out in the +field; I did not find you. I searched in every +copse; I asked every one. I was <i>here</i>, too, but +you did not answer me—Arne, Arne! I +walked along the river; but it did not seem to +be deep enough anywhere"—She pressed up +close to him. "Then it came with such relief +to my mind that you might have gone home, +and I am sure I was not more than a quarter of +an hour getting over the road. I opened the +door and looked in every room, and then first +remembered that I myself had the key; you +could not possibly have entered. Arne, last +night I searched along the road on both sides; +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> +I dared not go to the Kamp gorge. I know +not how I came here; no one helped me; but +the Lord put it into my heart that you must +be here!"</p> + +<p>He tried to soothe her.</p> + +<p>"Arne, indeed, you must never drink brandy +again."</p> + +<p>"No, you may be sure of that."</p> + +<p>"They must have been very rough with you. +Were they rough with you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; it was I who was <i>cowardly</i>." He +laid stress on the word.</p> + +<p>"I cannot exactly understand why they +should be rough with you. What was it they +did to you? You will never tell me anything," +and she began to weep again.</p> + +<p>"You never tell me anything, either," said +Arne, gently.</p> + +<p>"But you are most to blame, Arne. I got +so into the habit of being silent in your father's +day that you ought to have helped me a little +on the way! My God! there are only two of +us, and we have suffered so much together!"</p> + +<p>"Let us see if we cannot do better," whispered +Arne. "Next Sunday I will read the +sermon to you."</p> + +<p>"God bless you for that! Arne?"</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> +"I have something I ought to say to you."</p> + +<p>"Say it, mother."</p> + +<p>"I have sinned greatly against you; I have +done something wrong."</p> + +<p>"You, mother?" And it touched him so +deeply that his own good, infinitely patient +mother should accuse herself of having sinned +against him, who had never been really good to +her, that he put his arm round her, patted her, +and burst into tears.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have; and yet I could not help it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you have never wronged me in any +way."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have,—God knows it; it was only +because I was so fond of you. But you must +forgive me; do you hear?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I will forgive you."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, I will tell you about it another +time; but you will forgive me?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, mother!"</p> + +<p>"You see, it is perhaps because of this that +it has been so hard to talk with you; I have +sinned against you."</p> + +<p>"I beg of you not to talk so, mother."</p> + +<p>"I am happy now, having been able to say +so much."</p> + +<p>"We must talk more together, we two, +mother."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +"Yes, that we must; and then you will +really read the sermon for me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I will do so."</p> + +<p>"Poor Arne! God bless you!"</p> + +<p>"I think it is best for us to go home."</p> + +<p>"Yes, we will go home."</p> + +<p>"Why are you looking round so, mother?"</p> + +<p>"Your father lay in this barn, and wept."</p> + +<p>"Father?" said Arne, and grew very pale.</p> + +<p class="p4b">"Poor Nils! It was the day you were christened. +Why are you looking round, Arne?"</p> + +<hr class="r20" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER VIII.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">From</span> the day that Arne tried with his whole +heart to live closer to his mother his relations +with other people were entirely changed. He +looked on them more with the mother's mild +eyes. But he often found it hard to keep true +to his resolve; for what he thought most deeply +about his mother did not always understand. +Here is a song from those days:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It was such a pleasant, sunny day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In-doors I could not think of staying:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I strolled to the wood, on my back I lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And rocked what my mind was saying;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But there crawled emmets, and gnats stung there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wasps and the clegs brought dire despair.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"'My dear, will you not go out in this pleasant +weather?' said mother. She sat singing on +the porch.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It was such a pleasant, sunny day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In-doors I could not think of staying:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I strayed to a field, on my back I lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sang what my mind was saying;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But snakes came out to enjoy the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Three ells were they long, and away I run.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"'In such pleasant weather we can go barefoot,' +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> +said mother, and she pulled off her stockings.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It was such a pleasant, sunny day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In-doors I could no longer tarry:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I stepped in a boat, on my back I lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The tide did me onward carry;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sun, though, scorched till my nose was burned;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's limit to all, so to shore I turned.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"'What fine days these are for drying the +hay!' said mother, as she shook it with a rake.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It was such a pleasant, sunny day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In-doors I could not think of staying:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I climbed up a tree, and thought there I'd stay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For there were cool breezes playing.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A grub to fall on my neck then there chanced;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I sprang down and screamed, and how madly I danced.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"'Well, if the cow does not thrive such a day +as this, she never will,' said mother, as she +gazed up the slope.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It was such a pleasant, sunny day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In-doors I could no peace discover:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I made for the force that did loudly play,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For <i>there</i> it must surely hover;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But there I drowned while the sun still shone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If you made this song, it is surely not my own.<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"'It would take only about three such sunny +days to get everything under cover,' said mother; +and off she started to make my bed."</p> + + +<p class="p2">Nevertheless, this companionship with his +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> +mother brought every day more and more comfort +to Arne. What she did not understand +formed quite as much of a tie between them as +what she did understand. For the fact of her +not comprehending a thing made him think it +over oftener, and she grew only the dearer to +him because he found her limits on every side. +Yes, she became infinitely dear to him.</p> + +<p>As a child, Arne had not cared much for +nursery stories. Now, as a grown person, he +longed for them, and they led to traditions and +ancient ballads. His mind was filled with a +wonderful yearning; he walked much alone, +and many of the places round about, which formerly +he had not noticed, seemed strangely +beautiful. In the days when he had gone with +those of his own age to the priest's to prepare +for confirmation, he had often played with them +by a large lake below the parsonage, called +Black Water, because it was deep and black. +He began to think of this lake now, and one +evening he wended his way thither.</p> + +<p>He sat down behind a copse, just at the foot +of the parsonage. This lay on the side of a very +steep hill, which towered up beyond until it +became a high mountain; the opposite bank +was similar, and therefore huge shadows were +cast over the lake from both sides, but in its +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +centre was a stripe of beautiful silvery water. +All was at rest; the sun was just setting; a +faint sound of tinkling bells floated over from +the opposite shore; otherwise profound silence +reigned. Arne did not look right across the +lake, but first turned his eyes toward its lower +end, for there the sun was shedding a sprinkling +of burning red, ere it departed. Down there +the mountains had parted to make room between +them for a long, low valley, and against +this the waves dashed; and it seemed as though +the mountains had gradually sloped together to +form a swing in which to rock this valley, which +was dotted with its many gards. The curling +smoke rose upward, and passed from sight; the +fields were green and reeking; boats laden with +hay were approaching the landings. Arne saw +many people passing to and fro, but could +hear no noise. Thence the eye wandered beyond +the shore, where God's dark forest alone +loomed up. Through the forest and along the +lake men had drawn a road, as it were, with +a finger, for a winding streak of dust plainly +marked its course. This Arne's eye followed +until it came directly opposite to where he was +sitting; there the forest ended; the mountains +made a little more room, and straightways gard +after gard lay spread about. The houses were +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> +still larger than those at the lower end, were +painted red, and had higher windows, which +now were in a blaze of light. The hills sparkled +in dazzling sunshine; the smallest child playing +about could be plainly seen; glittering white +sand lay dry on the shore, and upon this little +children bounded with their dogs. But suddenly +the whole scene became desolate and +gloomy; the houses dark red, the meadows +dingy green, the sand grayish-white, and the +children small clumps: a mass of mist had +risen above the mountains, and had shut out +the sun. Arne kept his eye fixed on the lake; +there he found everything again. The fields +were rocking there, and the forest silently +joined them; the houses stood looking down, +doors open, and children going out and in. +Nursery tales and childish things came thronging +into his mind, as little fish come after a +bait, swim away, come back again, but do not +nibble.</p> + +<p>"Let us sit down here until your mother +comes; the priest's lady will surely get through +some time."</p> + +<p>Arne was startled; some one had sat down +just behind him.</p> + +<p>"But I might be allowed to stay just this one +night," said a beseeching voice, choked with +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> +tears; it seemed to be that of a young girl, not +quite grown up.</p> + +<p>"Do not cry any more; it is shocking to cry +because you must go home to your mother." +This last came in a mild voice that spoke slowly +and belonged to a man.</p> + +<p>"That is not the reason I am crying."</p> + +<p>"Why are you crying, then?"</p> + +<p>"Because I shall no longer be with Mathilde."</p> + +<p>This was the name of the priest's only +daughter, and reminded Arne that a peasant +girl had been brought up with her.</p> + +<p>"That could not last forever, any way."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but just one day longer, dear!" and +she sobbed violently.</p> + +<p>"It is best you should go home at once; perhaps +it is already too late."</p> + +<p>"Too late? Why so? Who ever heard of +such a thing?"</p> + +<p>"You are peasant-born, and a peasant you +shall remain: we cannot afford to keep a fine +lady."</p> + +<p>"I should still be a peasant, even if I remained +here."</p> + +<p>"You are no judge of that."</p> + +<p>"I have always worn peasant's clothes."</p> + +<p>"It is not that which makes the difference."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> +"I have been spinning and weaving and +cooking."</p> + +<p>"It is not <i>that</i>, either."</p> + +<p>"I can talk just as you and mother do."</p> + +<p>"Not that, either."</p> + +<p>"Then I do not know what it can be," said +the girl, and laughed.</p> + +<p>"Time will show. Besides, I am afraid you +already have too many ideas."</p> + +<p>"Ideas, ideas! You are always saying that. +I have no ideas." She wept again.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you are a weathercock,—that you +are!"</p> + +<p>"The priest never said so."</p> + +<p>"No, but now <i>I</i> say so."</p> + +<p>"A weathercock? Who ever heard of such +a thing? I will not be a weathercock."</p> + +<p>"Come, then, what will you be?"</p> + +<p>"What will I be? Did you ever hear the +like? I will be nothing."</p> + +<p>"Very good, then; be nothing."</p> + +<p>Now the girl laughed. Presently she said, +gravely, "It is unkind of you to say I am +nothing."</p> + +<p>"Dear me, when that was what you wanted +to be yourself!"</p> + +<p>"No, I do not want to be nothing."</p> + +<p>"Very good, then; be everything."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> +The girl laughed. Presently, with a sorrowful +voice, "The priest never fooled with me in +this way."</p> + +<p>"No, he only made a fool of you."</p> + +<p>"The priest? You have never been so kind +to me as the priest has."</p> + +<p>"No, for that would have spoiled you."</p> + +<p>"Sour milk can never become sweet."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, when it is boiled to whey."</p> + +<p>Here the girl burst out laughing.</p> + +<p>"There comes your mother."</p> + +<p>Then she grew sober again.</p> + +<p>"Such a long-winded woman as the priest's +lady I have never met in all the days of my +life," here interposed a shrill, rattling voice. +"Make haste, now, Baard. Get up and push +the boat out. We will not get home to-night. +The lady wished me to see that Eli kept +her feet dry. Dear me, you will have to see +to that yourself. Every morning she must +take a walk, for the sake of her health. It +is health, health, from morning till night. +Get up, now, Baard, and push out the boat. +Just think, I have to set sponge this evening!"</p> + +<p>"The chest has not come yet," said he, and +lay still.</p> + +<p>"But the chest is not to come, either; it is +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> +to remain until the first Sunday there is service. +Do you hear, Eli? Pick yourself up; +take your bundle, and come. Get up, now, +Baard!"</p> + +<p>She led the way, and the girl followed.</p> + +<p>"Come, now, I say,—come now!" resounded +from below.</p> + +<p>"Have you looked after the plug in the +boat?" asked Baard, still without rising.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is there;" and Arne heard her just +then hammering it in with the scoop. "But +get up, I say, Baard! Surely we are not to +stay here all night?"</p> + +<p>"I am waiting for the chest."</p> + +<p>"But, my dear, bless you, I have told you it +is to wait until the first Sunday there is service."</p> + +<p>"There it comes," said Baard, and they +heard the rattling of a cart.</p> + +<p>"Why, I said it was to wait until the first +Sunday there is service."</p> + +<p>"I said we were to take it along."</p> + +<p>Without anything further, the wife hastened +up to the cart, and carried the bundle, the lunch-box, +and other small things down to the boat. +Then Baard arose, went up, and took the chest +himself.</p> + +<p>But behind the cart there came rushing along +a girl in a straw hat, with floating hair; it was +the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> +priest's daughter.</p> + +<p>"Eli! Eli!" she called, as she ran.</p> + +<p>"Mathilde! Mathilde!" Eli answered, and +ran toward her.</p> + +<p>They met on the hill, put their arms about +each other, and wept. Then Mathilde took up +something she had set down on the grass: it +was a bird-cage.</p> + +<p>"You shall have Narrifas; yes, you shall. +Mother wishes it, too. You shall, after all, have +Narrifas,—indeed, you shall; and then you +will think of me. And very often row—row—row +over to me," and the tears of both flowed +freely.</p> + +<p>"Eli! Come, now, Eli! Do not stand +there!" was heard from below.</p> + +<p>"But I want to go along," said Mathilde. "I +want to go and sleep with you to-night!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, yes!" and with arms twined about +each other's necks they moved down toward the +landing.</p> + +<p>Presently Arne saw the boat out on the +water. Eli stood high on the stern, with the +bird-cage, and waved her hand; Mathilde was +left behind, and sat on the stone landing weeping.</p> + +<p>She remained sitting there as long as the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> +boat was on the water; it was but a short distance +across to the red house, as said before; +and Arne kept his seat, too. He watched the +boat, as she did. It soon passed into the darkness, +and he waited until it drew up to the +shore: then he saw Eli and her parents in the +water; in it he followed them up toward the +houses, until they came to the prettiest one of +them all. He saw the mother go in first, then +the father with the chest, and last of all the +daughter, so far as he could judge from their +size. Soon after the daughter came out again, +and sat down in front of the store-house door, +probably that she might gaze over at the other +side, where at that moment the sun was shedding +its parting rays. But the young lady +from the parsonage had already gone, and Arne +alone sat watching Eli in the water.</p> + +<p>"I wonder if she sees me!"</p> + +<p class="p4b">He got up and moved away. The sun had +set, but the sky was bright and clear blue, as it +often is of a summer night. Mist from land +and water rose and floated over the mountains +on both sides; but the peaks held themselves +above it, and stood peering at one another. +He went higher up. The lake grew blacker and +deeper, and seemed, as it were, to contract. +The upper valley shortened, and drew closer to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> +the lake. The mountains were nearer to the eye, +but looked more like a shapeless mass, for the +light of the sun defines. The sky itself appeared +nearer, and all surrounding objects became +friendly and familiar.</p> + +<hr class="r20" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p> +<h3>CHAPTER IX.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">Love</span> and woman were beginning to play a +prominent part in his thoughts; in the ancient +ballads and stories of the olden times such +themes were reflected as in a magic mirror, +just as the girl had been in the lake. He +constantly brooded over them, and after that +evening he found pleasure in singing about +them; for they seemed, as it were, to have come +nearer home to him. But the thought glided +away, and floated back again with a song that +was unknown to him; he felt as though another +had made it for him,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Fair Venevill bounded on lithesome feet<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Her lover to meet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He sang till it sounded afar away,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">'Good-day, good-day,'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While blithesome birds were singing on every blooming spray<br /></span> +<span class="i6">'On Midsummer Day<br /></span> +<span class="i6">There is dancing and play;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now I know not whether she weaves her wreath or nay.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"She wove him a wreath of corn-flowers blue:<br /></span> +<span class="i6">'Mine eyes so true.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He took it, but soon away it was flung:<br /></span> +<span class="i6">'Farewell!' he sung;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still with merry singing across the fields he sprung<br /></span> +<span class="i6">'On Midsummer Day,' etc.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> +<span class="i0">"She wove him a chain. 'Oh, keep it with care!<br /></span> +<span class="i6">'T is made of my hair.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She yielded him then, in an hour of bliss,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Her pure first kiss;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he blushed as deeply as she the while her lips met his.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">'On Midsummer Day,' etc.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"She wove him a wreath with a lily-band:<br /></span> +<span class="i6">'My true right hand.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She wove him another with roses aglow:<br /></span> +<span class="i6">'My left hand, now.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He took them gently from her, but blushes dyed his brow<br /></span> +<span class="i6">'On Midsummer Day,' etc.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"She wove him a wreath of all flowers round:<br /></span> +<span class="i6">'All I have found.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She wept, but she gathered and wove on still:<br /></span> +<span class="i6">'Take all you will.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without a word he took it, and fled across the hill.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">'On Midsummer Day,' etc.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"She wove on, bewildered and out of breath:<br /></span> +<span class="i6">'My bridal wreath.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She wove till her fingers aweary had grown:<br /></span> +<span class="i6">'Now put it on.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when she turned to see him, she found that he had gone.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">'On Midsummer Day,' etc.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"She wove on in haste, as for life and death,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Her bridal wreath;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the Midsummer sun no longer shone,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And the flowers were gone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But though she had no flowers, wild fancy still wove on.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">'On Midsummer-Day<br /></span> +<span class="i6">There is dancing and play;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now I know not whether she weaves her wreath or nay."<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> +It was his own intense melancholy that +called forth the first image of love that glided +so gloomily through his soul. A twofold longing,—to +have some one to love and to become +something great,—blended together and became +one. At this time he was working again +at the song, "Over the lofty mountains," altering +it, and all the while singing and thinking +quietly to himself, "Surely I will get 'over' +some day; I will sing until I gain courage." +He did not forget his mother in these his +thoughts of roving; indeed, he took comfort +in the thought that as soon as he got firm +foothold in the strange land, he would come +back after her, and offer her conditions which +he never could be able to provide for her at +home. But in the midst of all these mighty +yearnings there played something calm, cheering, +refined, that darted away and came again, +took hold and fled, and, dreamer that he had +become, he was more in the power of these +spontaneous thoughts than he himself was +aware.</p> + +<p>There lived in the parish a jovial man whose +name was Ejnar Aasen. When he was twenty +years old he had broken his leg; since then +he had walked with a cane; but wherever he +came hobbling along, there was always mirth +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> +afoot. The man was rich. On his property +there was a large nut-wood, and there was sure +to be assembled, on one of the brightest, pleasantest +days in autumn, a group of merry girls +gathering nuts. At these nutting-parties he +had plenty of feasting for his guests all day, +and dancing in the evening. For most of +these girls he had been godfather; indeed, he +was the godfather of half the parish; all the +children called him godfather, and from them +every one else, both old and young, learned +to do so.</p> + +<p>Godfather and Arne were well acquainted, +and he liked the young man because of the +verses he made. Now godfather asked Arne to +come to the nutting-party. Arne blushed and +declined; he was not used to being with girls, +he said.</p> + +<p>"Then you must get used to it," replied +godfather.</p> + +<p>Arne could not sleep at night because of +this; fear and yearning were at war within +him; but whatever the result might be, he +went along, and was about the only youth +among all these girls. He could not deny that +he felt disappointed; they were neither those +he had sung about, nor those he had feared +to meet. There was an excitement and merriment, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> +the like of which he had never known +before, and the first thing that struck him was +that they could laugh over nothing in the +world; and if three laughed, why, then, five +laughed, simply because those three laughed. +They all acted as though they were members +of the same household; and yet many of them +had not met before that day. If they caught +the bough they were jumping after, they +laughed at that, and if they did not catch it, +they laughed at that, too. They fought for +the hook to draw it down with; those who +got it laughed, and those who did not get it, +laughed also. Godfather hobbled after them +with his cane, and offered all the hindrance +in his power. Those whom he caught laughed +because he caught them, and those whom he +did not catch laughed because he did not catch +them. But they all laughed at Arne for being +sober, and when he tried to laugh, they laughed, +because he was laughing at last.</p> + +<p>They seated themselves finally on a large hill, +godfather in the centre, and all the girls around +him. The hill commanded a fine outlook; the +sun scorched; but the girls heeded it not, they +sat, casting nut-husks and shells at one another, +giving the kernels to godfather. He tried to +quiet them at last, striking at them with his +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> +cane, as far as he could reach; for now he +wanted them to tell stories, above all, something +amusing. But to get them started seemed +more difficult than to stop a carriage on a hill-side. +Godfather began himself. There were +many who did not want to listen; for they +knew already everything he had to tell; but +they all ended by listening attentively. Before +they knew what they were about, they sat +in the centre, and each took her turn in following +his example as best she could. Now +Arne was much astonished to find that just +in proportion to the noise the girls had made +before was the gravity of the stories they now +told. Love was the chief theme of these.</p> + +<p>"But you, Aasa, have a good one; I remember +that from last year," said godfather, +turning to a plump girl with a round, pleasant +face, who sat braiding the hair of a younger +sister, whose head was in her lap.</p> + +<p>"Several that are here may know that," said +she.</p> + +<p>"Well, give it to us anyway," they begged.</p> + +<p>"I will not have to be urged long," said +she, and, still braiding, she told and sang, as +follows:—</p> + +<p>"There was a grown-up youth who tended +cattle, and he was in the habit of driving his +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> +herds upward, along the banks of a broad +stream. High up on his way, there was a crag +which hung out so far over the stream, that +when he stood on it he could call out to any +one on the other side. For on the other side +of the stream there was a herd-girl whom he +could see all day long, but he could not come +over to her.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Now, tell me thy name, thou girl that art sitting,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Up there with thy sheep, so busily knitting?'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>he asked, over and over again, for many days, +until at last one day there came the answer,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'My name floats about like a duck in wet weather;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come over, thou boy in the cap of brown leather.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"But this made the youth no wiser than +before, and he thought he would pay no further +heed to the girl. This was not so easy, though, +for, let him drive the cattle where he would, +he was always drawn back to the crag. Then +the youth grew alarmed, and called over:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Well, who is your father, and where are you biding?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the road to the church I have ne'er seen you riding.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"The youth more than half believed her, in +fact, to be a hulder.<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'My house is burned down, and my father is drowned,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the road to the church-hill I never have found.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> +"Now this also made the youth no wiser +than before. By day he lingered on the crag, +and by night he dreamed that she was dancing +around him, and gave him a lash with a great +cow's-tail each time he tried to take hold of +her. Soon he could not sleep at all, neither +could he work, and the poor youth was in a +wretched state. Again he called aloud,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'If thou art a hulder, then pray do not spell me,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If thou art a maiden, then hasten to tell me?'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"But there came no answer, and then he +was sure that this was a hulder. He gave +up tending cattle, but it was just as bad, +for wherever he went, or whatever he did, he +thought of the fair hulder who blew on the +horn.</p> + +<p>"Then one day, as he stood chopping wood, +there came a girl through the yard who actually +looked like the hulder. But when she +came nearer, it was not she. He thought +much about this; then the girl came back, and +in the distance it was the hulder, and he ran +directly toward her. But the moment he came +near her it was not she.</p> + +<p>"After this, let the youth be at church, at +a dance, at other social gatherings, or where +he would, the girl was there too; when he +was far from her, she seemed to be the hulder; +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> +near to her, she seemed to be another; he +asked her then whether it were she or not; +but she laughed at him. It is just as well to +spring into it as to creep into it, thought the +youth, and so he married the girl.</p> + +<p>"No sooner was this done than the youth +ceased to like the girl. Away from her, he +longed for her; but when with her, he longed +for one he did not see; therefore he was +harsh toward his wife; she bore this and was +silent.</p> + +<p>"But one day, when he was searching for +the horses, he found his way to the crag, and +sitting down, he called out,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Like fairy moonlight to me thou seemest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like midsummer fires from afar thou gleamest.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"He thought it did him good to sit there, +and he fell into the way of going thither whenever +anything went amiss at home. The wife +wept when she was left alone.</p> + +<p>"But one day, while the youth was sitting +on the crag, the hulder, her living self, appeared +on the opposite side, and blew her horn. +He eagerly cried,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Ah, dear, art thou come! all around thee is shining!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, blow now again! I am sitting here pining.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Then she answered,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> +<span class="i0">'Away from thy mind the dreams I am blowing,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rye is all rotting for want of mowing.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"But the youth was frightened, and went +home again. Before long, though, he was so +tired of his wife that he felt compelled to wander +off to the wood and take his seat on the +crag. Then a voice sang,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'I dreamed thou wast here; ho, hasten to bind me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No, not over there, but behind you will find me.'<a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"The youth started up, looked about him, +and espied a green skirt disappearing through +the woods. He pursued. Now there was a +chase through the woods. As fleet of foot as +the hulder was, no mortal could be; he cast +steel<a name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> over her again and again; she ran on the +same as before. By and by she began to grow +tired. The youth knew this from her foot-fall, +though her form convinced him that it was the +hulder herself, and none other. 'You shall +surely be mine now,' thought the youth, and +suddenly flung his arms about her with such +force that both he and she rolled far down the +hill before they could stop. Then the hulder +laughed until the youth thought the mountains +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> +fairly rang; he took her on his knee, and she +looked so fair, just as he had once thought his +wife would look.</p> + +<p>"'Oh, dear, who are you that are so fair?' +asked the youth, and as he caressed her, he felt +that her cheeks were warm and glowing.</p> + +<p>"'Why, good gracious, I am your wife,' said +she."</p> + +<p>The girls laughed, and thought the youth +was very foolish. But godfather asked Arne +if he had been listening.</p> + +<p>"Well, now, I will tell you something," said +a little girl, with a little round face, and such +a very little nose.</p> + +<p>"There was a little youth who wanted very +much to woo a little maiden; they were both +grown up, yet were both very small indeed. +But the youth could not muster up courage +enough to begin his wooing. He always joined +her after church, but they did not then get beyond +the weather in their talk; he sought her +at the dances, and he danced her almost to +death, but talk with her he could not. 'You +must learn to write, and then you will not +have to,' said he to himself, and so the youth +took to writing; but he never thought he could +do well enough, and so he wrote a whole year +before he dared think of a letter. Then the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> +trouble was how to deliver it so that no one +should see, and he waited until once they +chanced to meet alone behind the church.</p> + +<p>"'I have a letter for you,' said the youth.</p> + +<p>"'But I cannot read writing,' answered the +maiden.</p> + +<p>"And the youth got no further.</p> + +<p>"Then he took service at her father's house, +and hung round her the whole day long. Once +he came very near speaking to her; he had +already opened his mouth, when there flew +into it a large fly. 'If only no one comes and +takes her from me,' thought the youth. But +there came no one to take her from him, because +she was so small.</p> + +<p>"Some one did come along, though, at last, +for he was small too. The youth well knew +what he was after, and when he and the girl +went up-stairs together, the youth made his +way to the key-hole. Now he who was within +offered himself. 'Alas, dunce that I am, not +to have made more haste!' thought the youth. +He who was inside kissed the girl right on the +lips. 'That must have tasted good,' thought +the youth. But he who was inside had drawn +the girl down on his knee. 'What a world +we live in!' said the youth, and wept. This +the girl heard, and went to the door.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> +"'What do you want of me, you ugly boy, +that you never give me any peace?'</p> + +<p>"'I?—I only wanted to ask you if I might +be your groomsman.'</p> + +<p>"'No; my brothers are to be the groomsmen,' +answered the girl,—and slammed the +door in his face.</p> + +<p>"And the youth got no further."</p> + +<p>The girls laughed a great deal at this story, +and sent a shower of husks flying round after it.</p> + +<p>Godfather now wanted Eli Böen to tell +something.</p> + +<p>What should it be?</p> + +<p>Why, she might tell what she had told over +on the hill, when he was with them, the time +she gave him the new garters. It was a good +while before Eli was ready, for she laughed so +hard, but at last she told:—</p> + +<p>"A girl and a boy were walking together on +the same road. 'Why, see the thrush that is +following us,' said the girl. 'It is I whom it is +following,' said the boy. 'It is just as likely +to be me,' answered the girl. 'That we can +soon see,' remarked the boy; 'now you take the +lower road, and I will take the upper one, and +we will meet at the top of the hill.' They did +so. 'Was it not following me?' asked the boy, +when they met. 'No, it was following me,' +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> +answered the girl. 'Then there must be two.' +They walked together again a little way, but +then there was only one thrush; the boy thought +it flew on his side; but the girl thought it flew +on hers. 'The deuce! I'll not bother my head +any more about that thrush,' said the boy. 'Nor +I either,' replied the girl.</p> + +<p>"But no sooner had they said this than the +thrush was gone. 'It was on <i>your</i> side,' said +the boy. 'No, I thank you; I saw plainly it +was on <i>yours</i>. But there! There it comes +again!' called out the girl. 'Yes, it is on <i>my</i> +side!' cried the boy. But now the girl became +angry. 'May all the plagues take me if +I walk with you any longer!' and she went her +own way. Then the thrush left the boy, and +the way became so tedious that he began to +call out. She answered. 'Is the thrush with +you?' shouted the boy. 'No, it is with you.' +'Oh, dear! You must come here again, then +perhaps it will come too.' And the girl came +again; they took each other by the hand and +walked together. 'Kvit, kvit, kvit, kvit!' was +heard on the girl's side. 'Kvit, kvit, kvit, +kvit!' was heard on the boy's side. 'Kvit, kvit, +kvit, kvit, kvit, kvit, kvit, kvit!' was heard on +both sides, and when they came to look, there +were a thousand million thrushes round about +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> +them. 'Why, how strange!' said the girl, and +looked up at the boy. 'Bless you!' said the +boy, and caressed the girl."</p> + +<p>This story all the girls thought fine.</p> + +<p>Then godfather suggested that they should +tell what they had dreamed the night before, +and he would decide who had had the finest +dream.</p> + +<p>What! tell their dreams? No, indeed! +And there was no end to the laughing and whispering. +But then one after another began to +remark that she had had such a fine dream last +night; others, again, that, fine as the ones they +had had, it could not by any means be. And +finally, they all were seized with a desire to tell +their dreams. But it must not be out loud, it +must only be to <i>one</i>, and that must by no +means be godfather. Arne was sitting quietly +on the hill, and so he was the one to whom +they dared tell their dreams.</p> + +<p>Arne took a seat beneath a hazel, and then +she who had told the first story came to him. +She thought a long time, and then told as follows:—</p> + +<p>"I dreamed I stood by a great lake. Then +I saw some one go on the water, and it was +one whom I will not name. He climbed up in +a large pond-lily, and sat and sang. But I +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> +went out on one of those large leaves that the +pond-lily has, and which lie and float; on it +I wanted to row over to him. But no sooner +had I stepped on the leaf than it began to sink +with me, and I grew much alarmed and cried. +Then he came rowing over to me in the pond-lily, +lifted me up to where he sat, and we rowed +all over the lake. Was not that a nice dream?"</p> + +<p>The little maiden who had told the little +story now came.</p> + +<p>"I dreamed I had caught a little bird, and +I was so happy that I did not want to let it go +until I got home. But there I did not dare +let go of it, lest father and mother should tell +me I must let it out again. So I went up in +the garret with it, but there the cat was lurking, +and so I could not let go of it there either. +Then I did not know what to do, so I took it +up in the hay-loft; but, good gracious! there +were so many cracks there that it could easily +fly away! Well, then I went out in the yard +again, and there I thought stood one whom I +will not name. He was playing with a large, +black dog. 'I would rather play with that +bird of yours,' said he, and came close up +to me. But I thought I started to run, and +he and the large dog after me, and thus I ran +all round the yard; but then mother opened +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> +the front door, drew me quickly in, and slammed +the door. Outside, the boy stood laughing, +with his face against the window-pane. 'See, +here is the bird!' said he,—and, just think, he +really had the bird! Was not that a funny +dream?"</p> + +<p>Then she came who had told about all the +thrushes,—Eli they had called her. It was +the Eli he had seen that evening in the boat and +in the water. She was the same and yet not +the same, so grown-up and pretty she looked as +she sat there, with her delicately cut face and +slender form. She laughed immoderately, and +therefore it was long before she could control +herself; but then she told as follows:—</p> + +<p>"I had been feeling so glad that I was coming +to the nutting-party to-day that I dreamed +last night I was sitting here on the hill. The +sun shone brightly, and I had a whole lapful +of nuts. But then there came a little squirrel, +right in among the nuts, and it sat on its hind +legs in my lap and ate them all up. Was not +that a funny dream?"</p> + +<p>Yet other dreams were told Arne, and then +he was to decide which was the finest. He +had to take a long time to consider, and meanwhile +godfather started off with the whole +crowd for the gard, and Arne was to follow. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> +They sprang down the hill, formed in a row +when they had reached the plain, and sang all +the way to the house.</p> + +<p>Arne still sat there listening to the singing. +The sun fell directly on the group, it shone +on their white sleeves; soon they twined their +arms about each other's waists; they went dancing +across the meadow, godfather after them +with his cane, because they were treading down +his grass. Arne thought no more about the +dreams. Soon he even left off watching the +girls; his thoughts wandered far beyond the +valley, as did the fine sunbeams, and he sat +alone there on the hill and spun. Before he +was aware of it, he was entangled in a close web +of melancholy; he yearned to break away, and +never in the world before so ardently as now. +He faithfully promised himself that when he +got home he would talk with his mother, come +of it what would.</p> + +<p>His thoughts grew stronger, and drifted into +the song,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Over the lofty mountains."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Words had never flowed so readily as now, nor +had they ever blended so surely into verse,—they +almost seemed like girls sitting around on +a hill. He had a scrap of paper about him +and placing it on his knee, he wrote. When +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> +the song was complete, he arose, like one who +was released, felt that he could not see people, +and took the forest road home, although he +knew that the night, too, would be needed for +this. The first time he sat down to rest on the +way, he felt for the song, that he might sing it +aloud as he went along, and let it be borne all +over the parish; but he found he had left it in +the place where it was written.</p> + +<p class="p4b">One of the girls went up the hill to look for +him, did not find him, but found his song.</p> +<hr class="r20" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER X.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">To</span> talk with the mother was more easily +thought than done. Arne alluded to Kristian +and the letter that never came; but the mother +went away from him, and for whole days after +he thought her eyes looked red. He had also +another indication of her feelings, and that was +that she prepared unusually good meals for +him.</p> + +<p>He had to go up in the woods to fetch an +armful of fuel one day; the road led through +the forest, and just where he was to do his +chopping was the place where people went to +pick whortleberries in the autumn. He had +put down his axe in order to take off his jacket, +and was just about beginning, when two girls +came walking along with berry pails. It was +his wont to hide himself rather than meet girls, +and so he did now.</p> + +<p>"O dear, O dear! What a lot of berries! +Eli, Eli!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear, I see them."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, do not go any farther; here +are many pailfuls!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> +"I thought there was a rustling in that bush +over there!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you must be mad!" and the girls rushed +at each other, and put their arms about each +other's waists. They stood for a long while so +still, that they scarcely breathed.</p> + +<p>"It is surely nothing; let us go on picking!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I really think we will."</p> + +<p>And so they began to gather berries.</p> + +<p>"It was very kind of you, Eli, to come over +to the parsonage to-day. Have you anything +to tell me?"</p> + +<p>"I have been at godfather's."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you told me that; but have you nothing +about <i>him</i>,—you know who?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, oh! Eli, is that so? Make haste; tell +me!"</p> + +<p>"He has been there again!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nonsense!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed; both father and mother pretended +they did not see it, but I went up in the +garret and hid."</p> + +<p>"More, more! Did he follow you there?"</p> + +<p>"I think father told him where I was; he is +always so provoking."</p> + +<p>"And so he came? Sit down, sit down here +beside me. Well, so he came?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> +"Yes; but he did not say much, for he was +so bashful."</p> + +<p>"Every word! Do you hear? every word!"</p> + +<p>"'Are you afraid of me?' said he. 'Why +should I be afraid?' said I. 'You know what +it is I want of you,' said he, and sat down on +the chest beside me."</p> + +<p>"Beside you!"</p> + +<p>"And then he put his arm round my waist."</p> + +<p>"His arm round your waist? Are you +wild?"</p> + +<p>"I wanted to get away from him, but he +would not let me go. 'Dear Eli,' said he,"—she +laughed, and the other girl laughed too.</p> + +<p>"Well? well?"</p> + +<p>"'Will you be my wife?'"</p> + +<p>"Ha, ha, ha!"</p> + +<p>"Ha, ha, ha!"</p> + +<p>And then both—"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!"</p> + +<p>Finally, the laughter, too, had to come to an +end, and then a long silence ensued. After a +while, the first one asked, but softly, "Say,—was +it not too bad that he put his arm round +your waist?"</p> + +<p>Either the other one made no reply to this, +or else she spoke in such a low tone that it +could not be heard; perhaps, too, she answered +only with a smile. Presently the first one +asked:—</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> +"Have neither your father nor your mother +said anything since?"</p> + +<p>"Father came up and looked at me, but I +kept hiding; for he laughed every time he saw +me."</p> + +<p>"But your mother?"</p> + +<p>"Why, she said nothing; but she was less +harsh than usual."</p> + +<p>"Well, you certainly refused him?"</p> + +<p>"Of course."</p> + +<p>Then there was a long silence again.</p> + +<p>"Eli!"</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"Do you think any one will ever come that +way to me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, to be sure."</p> + +<p>"How you talk! O—h! say, Eli? What +if he should put his arm round my waist?" +She covered her face.</p> + +<p>There was much laughter, afterwards whispering +and tittering.</p> + +<p>The girls soon went away. They had neither +seen Arne, nor the axe and the jacket, and he +was glad.</p> + +<p>Some days later he put Upland Knut in the +houseman's place under Kampen.</p> + +<p>"You shall no longer be lonely," said Arne.</p> + +<p>Arne himself took to steady work. He had +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> +early learned to cut with the hand-saw, for he +had himself added much to the house at home. +Now he wanted to work at his trade, for he +knew it was well to have some definite occupation; +it was also good for him to get out among +people; and so changed had he gradually become, +that he longed for this whenever he had +kept to himself for a while. Thus it came to +pass that he was at the parsonage for a time +that winter doing carpentering, and the two +girls were often together there. Arne wondered, +when he saw them, who it could be that +was now courting Eli Böen.</p> + +<p>It so happened one day, when they went out +for a ride, that Arne had to drive for the young +lady of the parsonage and Eli; he had good +ears, yet could not hear what they were talking +about; sometimes Mathilde spoke to him, at +which Eli laughed and hid her face. Once +Mathilde asked if it was true he could make +verses. "No!" he said promptly: then they +both laughed, chattered, and laughed. This +made him indignant, and he pretended not to +see them.</p> + +<p>Once he was sitting in the servants' hall, +when there was dancing there. Mathilde and +Eli both came in to look on. They were disputing +about something in the corner where +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> +they stood. Eli would not, but Mathilde would, +and she won. Then they both crossed the floor +to him, courtesied, and asked whether he could +dance. He answered "No," and then they +both turned, laughed, and ran away. "They +keep up a perpetual laughter," thought Arne, +and became sober. But the priest had a little +adopted son, about ten or twelve years old, +of whom Arne thought a good deal; from this +boy Arne learned to dance when no one else +was present.</p> + +<p>Eli had a little brother about the same age +as the priest's adopted son. These two were +playmates, and Arne made sleds, skees,<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a> and +snares for them; and he often talked with them +about their sisters, especially about Eli. One +day Eli's brother brought word that Arne +should not be so careless with his hair.</p> + +<p>"Who said so?"</p> + +<p>"Eli said so; but I was not to tell that she +said so."</p> + +<p>Some days after, Arne sent a message to Eli +that she should laugh a little less. The boy +came back with the reply that Arne should +laugh a little more.</p> + +<p>Once the boy asked for something he had +written. Arne let him have it, and thought +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> +no more of it. After a while the boy thought +he would please Arne with the tidings that +both the girls liked his writing very much.</p> + +<p>"Why, have they seen it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it was for them I wanted it."</p> + +<p>Arne asked the boys to bring him something +their sisters had written; they did so. Arne +corrected the mistakes with a carpenter's pencil. +He asked the boys to place the paper where +it could easily be found. Afterwards he found +it again in his jacket pocket, but at the bottom +was written, "Corrected by a conceited +fellow!"</p> + +<p>The next day Arne finished his work at the +parsonage, and set out for home. So gentle as +he was this winter, his mother had never seen +him since those sorrowful days after his father's +death. He read the sermon for her, went with +her to church, and was very kind to her. But +she well knew it was all to get her consent to +journey away from her when spring came. +Then one day he had a message from Böen to +know if he would come there and do some carpentering.</p> + +<p>Arne was quite startled, and answered "Yes," +as though he scarcely knew what he was saying. +No sooner had the messenger gone than +the mother said,</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> +"You may well be astonished! From Böen?"</p> + +<p>"Is that so strange?" asked Arne, but did +not look at her as he spoke.</p> + +<p>"From Böen?" cried the mother, once more.</p> + +<p>"Well, why not as well from there as from +another gard?" Arne now looked up a little.</p> + +<p>"From Böen and Birgit Böen! Baard, who +gave your father the blow that was his ruin, +and that for Birgit Böen's sake!"</p> + +<p>"What do you say?" now cried the youth. +"Was that Baard Böen?"</p> + +<p>Son and mother stood and looked at each +other. Between the two a whole life was unfolded, +and this was a moment wherein they +could see the black thread which all along had +been woven through it. They fell later to talking +about the father's proud days, when old Eli +Böen herself had courted him for her daughter +Birgit, and got a refusal. They went through +his whole life just as far as where he was +knocked down, and both found out that Baard's +fault had been the least. Nevertheless, it was +he who had given the father that fatal blow,—he +it was.</p> + +<p>"Am I not yet done with father?" then +thought Arne, and decided at the same moment +to go.</p> + +<p>When Arne came walking, with the hand-saw +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> +on his shoulder, over the ice and up toward +Böen, it seemed to him a pretty gard. The +house always looked as though it were newly +painted; he was a little chilled, and that was +perhaps why it seemed so cozy to him. He did +not go directly in, but went beyond toward the +stable, where a flock of shaggy goats were standing +in the snow, gnawing at the bark of some +fir branches. A shepherd dog walked to and +fro on the barn-bridge, and barked as though +the devil himself was coming to the gard; but +the moment Arne stood still, he wagged his tail +and let him pat him. The kitchen door on the +farther side of the house was often opened, and +Arne looked down there each time; but it was +either the dairy-maid, with tubs and pails, or +the cook, who was throwing something out to +the goats. Inside the barn they were threshing +with frequent strokes, and to the left, in +front of the wood-shed, stood a boy chopping +wood; behind him there were many layers of +wood piled up.</p> + +<p>Arne put down his saw and went into the +kitchen; there white sand was spread on the +floor, and finely cut juniper leaves strewed over +it; on the walls glittered copper kettles, and +crockery stood in rows. They were cooking +dinner. Arne asked to speak with Baard. "Go +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> +into the sitting-room," some one said, pointing +to the door. He went; there was no latch to +the door, but a brass handle; it was cheerful +in there, and brightly painted, the ceiling was +decorated with many roses, the cupboards were +red, with the owner's name in black, the bed-stead +was also red, but bordered with blue +stripes. By the stove sat a broad-shouldered +man, with a mild face, and long, yellow hair; +he was putting hoops about some pails; by the +long table sat a tall, slender woman, with a high +linen cap on her head, and dressed in tight-fitting +clothes; she was sorting corn into two +heaps. Besides these there were no others in +the room.</p> + +<p>"Good day, and bless the work!" said Arne, +drawing off his hat. Both looked up; the man +smiled, and asked who it was.</p> + +<p>"It is he who is to do carpentering."</p> + +<p>The man smiled more, and said, as he nodded +his head and began his work again,—</p> + +<p>"Well, then, it is Arne Kampen!"</p> + +<p>"Arne Kampen?" cried the wife, and stared +fixedly before her.</p> + +<p>The man looked up hastily, and smiled again. +"The son of tailor Nils," he said, and went on +once more with his work.</p> + +<p>After a while, the wife got up, crossed the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> +floor to the shelf, turned, went to the cupboard, +turned again, and as she at last was rummaging +in a table drawer, she asked, without looking +up,—</p> + +<p>"Is <i>he</i> to work <i>here</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that he is," said the man, also without +looking up. "It seems no one has asked you to +sit down," he observed, addressing himself to +Arne.</p> + +<p>The latter took a seat; the wife left the +room, the man continued to work; and so +Arne asked if he too should begin.</p> + +<p>"Let us first have dinner."</p> + +<p>The wife did not come in again; but the next +time the kitchen-door opened it was Eli who +came. She appeared at first not to notice Arne; +when he rose to go to her, she stood still, and +half turned to give him her hand, but she did not +look at him. They exchanged a few words; +the father worked on. Eli had her hair braided, +wore a tight-sleeved dress, was slender and +straight, had round wrists and small hands. +She laid the table; the working-people dined +in the next room, but Arne with the family in +this one; it so happened that they had their +meals separately to-day; usually they all ate at +the same table in the large, light kitchen.</p> + +<p>"Is not mother coming?" asked the man.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> +"No, she is up-stairs weighing wool."</p> + +<p>"Have you asked her?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; but she says she does not want anything."</p> + +<p>There was silence for a while.</p> + +<p>"But it is cold up-stairs."</p> + +<p>"She did not want me to make a fire."</p> + +<p>After dinner Arne began work; in the evening +he was again with the family in the sitting-room. +Then the wife, too, was there. The +women were sewing. The husband was busy +with some trifles, and Arne helped him; there +was a prolonged silence, for Eli, who usually led +in conversation, was also silent. Arne thought +with dismay that it probably was often thus at +his own home; but he realized it now for the +first time. Eli drew a long breath at last, as +though she had restrained herself long enough, +and then she fell to laughing. Then the father +also laughed, and Arne, too, thought it was +laughable, and joined in. From this time forth +they talked of various things; but it ended in +Arne and Eli doing most of the talking, the father +putting in an occasional word. But once, +when Arne had been speaking for some time +and happened to look up, he met the eyes of the +mother, Birgit; she had dropped her sewing, +and sat staring fixedly at him. Now she +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> +picked up her work again, but at the first word +he spoke she raised her eyes.</p> + +<p>Bed-time came, and each one went his way. +Arne thought he would notice the dream he +had the first night in a new place; but there +seemed to be no sense in it. The whole day +long he had talked little or none with the master +of the gard, but at night it was of him he +dreamed. The last thing was that Baard sat +playing cards with tailor Nils. The latter was +very angry and pale in the face; but Baard +smiled and won the game.</p> + +<p>Arne remained several days, during which +time there was scarcely any talking, but a great +deal of work. Not only those in the family +room were silent, but the servants, the tenants, +even the women. There was an old dog on the +gard that barked every time strangers came; +but the gard people never heard the dog without +saying "hush!" and then he went growling off +and laid down again. At home at Kampen +there was a large weather-vane on the house, +which turned with the wind; there was a still +larger vane here, to which Arne's attention was +attracted because it did not turn. When there +was a strong current of wind, the vane struggled +to get loose, and Arne looked at it until he +felt compelled to go up on the roof and set the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> +vane free. It was not frozen fast, as he had +supposed, but a pin was stuck through it that +it might be kept still. This Arne took out and +threw down; the pin struck Baard, who came +walking along. He glanced up.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing there?"</p> + +<p>"I am letting loose the vane."</p> + +<p>"Do not do so; it makes such a wailing +noise when it is in motion."</p> + +<p>Arne sat astride the gable.</p> + +<p>"That is better than always being quiet."</p> + +<p>Baard looked up at Arne, and Arne looked +down on Baard; then Baard smiled.</p> + +<p>"He who has to howl when he talks had +much better keep silent, I am sure."</p> + +<p>Now it often happens that words haunt us +long after they were uttered, especially when +they were the last ones heard. So these words +haunted Arne when he crept down in the cold +from the roof, and were still with him in the +evening when he entered the family room. Eli +was standing, in the twilight, by a window, gazing +out over the ice which lay glittering beneath +the moon's beams. Arne went to the +other window and looked out as she was doing. +Within all was cozy and quiet, without it +was cold; a sharp wind swept across the valley, +so shaking the trees that the shadows they +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> +cast in the moonlight did not lie still, but went +groping about in the snow. From the parsonage +there glimmered a light, opening out and closing +in, assuming many shapes and colors, as +light is apt to do when one gazes at it too +long. The mountain loomed up beyond, dark +and gloomy, with romance in its depths and +moonshine on its upper banks of snow. The +sky was aglow with stars, and a little flickering +northern light appeared in one quarter of the +horizon, but did not spread. A short distance +from the window, down toward the lake, there +were some trees whose shadows kept prowling +from one to the other, but the great ash stood +alone, writing on the snow.</p> + +<p>The night was very still,—only now and +then something shrieked and howled with a +long, wailing cry.</p> + +<p>"What is that?" asked Arne.</p> + +<p>"It is the weather-vane," said Eli; and afterwards +she continued more softly, as though to +herself: "It must have been let loose."</p> + +<p>But Arne had been feeling like one who +wanted to speak and could not. Now he said:—</p> + +<p>"Do you remember the story about the +thrushes that sang?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Why, to be sure, it was you who told that +one! It was a pretty story."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> +She said, in so gentle a voice that it seemed +as though it were the first time he heard it,—</p> + +<p>"I often think there is something that sings +when it is quite still."</p> + +<p>"That is the good within ourselves."</p> + +<p>She looked at him as though there were +something too much in that answer; they +were both quiet afterward. Then she asked, +as she traced figures with one finger on the +window-pane,—</p> + +<p>"Have you made any songs lately?"</p> + +<p>He blushed; but this she did not see. Therefore +she asked again,—</p> + +<p>"How do you manage when you make +songs?"</p> + +<p>"Would you really like to know?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes."</p> + +<p>"I hoard up the thoughts that others are +in the habit of letting go," he answered evasively.</p> + +<p>She was long silent, for she had doubtless +been making an attempt at a song or two. +What if she had had those thoughts and let +them go.</p> + +<p>"That is strange," said she, as though to +herself, and fell to tracing figures on the pane +again.</p> + +<p>"I made a song after I had seen you the first +time."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> +"Where was that?"</p> + +<p>"Over by the parsonage, the evening you left +there. I saw you in the lake."</p> + +<p>She laughed, then was still a while.</p> + +<p>"Let me hear that song."</p> + +<p>Arne had never before done such a thing, but +now he sang for her the song,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Fair Venevill bounded on lithesome feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her lover to meet," etc.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Eli stood there very attentive; she stood +there long after he was through. At last she +burst out,—</p> + +<p>"Oh, how I pity her!"</p> + +<p>"It seems as though I had not made it myself," +said Arne, for he felt ashamed at having +produced it. Nor did he understand how he +had come to do so. He remained standing there +as if looking after the song.</p> + +<p>Then she said: "But I hope it will not be +that way with me!"</p> + +<p>"No, no, no! I was only thinking of myself."</p> + +<p>"Is that to be your fate, then?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know; but I felt so at that time—indeed, +I do not understand it now, but I +once had such a heavy heart."</p> + +<p>"That was strange." She began to write on +the window-pane again.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> +The next day, when Arne came in to dinner +he went over to the window. Outside it was +gray and foggy, within warm and pleasant; but +on the window-pane a finger had traced "Arne, +Arne, Arne!" and over again "Arne." It +was the window where Eli had stood the preceding +evening.</p> + +<p class="p4b">But Eli did not come down-stairs that day; +she was feeling ill. She had not been well at +all of late; she had said so herself, and it was +plainly to be seen.</p> + +<hr class="r20" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span></p> +<h3>CHAPTER XI.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">A day</span> later Arne came in and announced +that he had just heard on the gard that the +priest's daughter Mathilde had that very moment +started for the town, as she thought, for +a few days, but, as had been decided, to stay +there for a year or two. Eli had heard nothing +of this before, and fell fainting.</p> + +<p>It was the first time Arne had seen any one +faint, and he was much alarmed; he ran for +the maid-servants, they went for the parents, +who started at once; there was confusion all +over the gard, even the shepherd-dog barked +on the barn-bridge. When Arne came in +again, later, the mother was on her knees by +the bedside, the father stood holding the sick +girl's head. The maid-servants were running, +one for water, another for medicine, which was +kept in a cupboard, a third was unfastening +Eli's jacket at the throat.</p> + +<p>"The Lord help and bless us!" cried the +mother. "It was certainly wrong that we +said nothing to her; it was you, Baard, who +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> +would have it so. The Lord help and bless +us!"</p> + +<p>Baard made no reply.</p> + +<p>"I said we had better tell her; but nothing +is ever done as I wish. The Lord help and +bless us! You are always so underhand with +her, Baard; you do not understand her; you +do not know what it is to care for any one."</p> + +<p>Baard still made no reply.</p> + +<p>"She is not like others; they can bear sorrow, +but it completely upsets her, poor thing, +she is so slight. And especially now when she +is not well at all. Wake up again, my dear +child, and we will be kind to you! Wake up +again, Eli, my own dear child, and do not grieve +us so!"</p> + +<p>Then Baard said,—</p> + +<p>"You are either too silent, or you talk too +much;" and he looked over at Arne, as though +he did not wish him to hear all this, but to go +away. As the maid-servants remained in the +room, however, Arne thought that he might +stay, too, but he walked to the window. Now +the patient rallied so far that she could look +about her and recognize people; but at the +same moment her memory returned; she +shrieked "Mathilde," burst into hysterical weeping, +and sobbed until it was painful to be in the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> +room with her. The mother tried to comfort +her; the father had placed himself where he +might be seen; but the sick girl waved her +hand to them. "Go away!" she cried, "I do +not love you!"</p> + +<p>"Good gracious! You do not love your parents?" +said the mother.</p> + +<p>"No! You are cruel to me, and take from +me the only joy I have!"</p> + +<p>"Eli, Eli! Do not speak such dreadful +words!" begged the mother.</p> + +<p>"Yes, mother," she shrieked; "now I must +say it! Yes, mother! You want me to marry +that hateful man, and I will not. You shut me +up here, where I am never happy, except when +I am to go out! You take Mathilde from me, +the only person I love and long for in the +world! O God, what will become of me when +Mathilde is no longer here—especially now +that I have so much, so much I cannot manage +when I have no one to talk with?"</p> + +<p>"But you really have so seldom been with +her lately," said Baard.</p> + +<p>"What did that matter when I had her over +at the window yonder!" answered the sick girl, +and she cried in such a child-like way, that it +seemed to Arne as though he had never before +seen anything like it.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> +"But you could not see her there," said +Baard.</p> + +<p>"I could see the gard," answered she; and +the mother added, hotly,—</p> + +<p>"You do not understand such things at all."</p> + +<p>Then Baard said no more.</p> + +<p>"Now I can never go to the window!" said +Eli. "I went there in the morning when I got +up; in the evening I sat there in the moonlight: +and I went there when I had no one else to go +to. Mathilde, Mathilde!"</p> + +<p>She writhed in the bed, and again gave way +to hysterical weeping. Baard sat down on a +stool near by and watched her.</p> + +<p>But Eli did not get over this as soon as her +parents may have expected. Toward evening +they first saw that she was likely to have a +protracted illness, the seeds of which had doubtless +been gathering for some time; and Arne was +called in to assist in carrying her up to her own +room. She was unconscious, and lay very pale +and still; the mother sat down beside her; the +father stood at the foot of the bed and looked +on; afterwards he went down to his work. +Arne did the same; but that night when he +went to bed he prayed for her, prayed that she, +young and fair as she was, might have a happy +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> +life, and that no one might shut out joy from +her.</p> + +<p>The following day the father and mother sat +talking together when Arne came in; the +mother had been shedding tears. Arne asked +how things were going; each waited for the +other to speak, and therefore it was long before +he got a reply; but finally the father said, "It +looks pretty bad."</p> + +<p>Later, Arne heard that Eli had been delirious +the whole night; or, as the father said, had +been raving. Now she lay violently ill, knew +no one, would not take any food, and the parents +were just sitting there, deliberating whether +they should call in the doctor. When, later, +they went up-stairs to the sick girl, and Arne +was left alone again, he felt as though life and +death were both up there, but he sat outside.</p> + +<p>In a few days, though, she was better. Once +when the father was keeping watch, she took +a fancy to have Narrifas, the bird which Mathilde +had given her, standing beside the bed. +Then Baard told her the truth, that in all this +confusion the bird had been forgotten, and that +it was dead. The mother came just while Baard +was telling this, and she burst out in the +door,—"Good gracious me! how heedless you +are, Baard, to tell such things to that sick +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> +child! See, now she is fainting away again; +Heaven forgive you for what you have done!"</p> + +<p>Every time the patient revived she screamed +for the bird, said that it would never go well +with Mathilde since Narrifas was dead, wanted +to go to her, and fell into a swoon again. Baard +stood there and looked on until he could bear +it no longer; then he wanted to help wait on +her too; but the mother pushed him away, +saying that she would take care of the sick girl +alone. Then Baard gazed at both of them a +long while, after which he put on his cap with +both hands, turned, and went out.</p> + +<p>The priest and his wife came over later; for +the illness had taken fresh hold on Eli, and had +become so bad that they knew not whether it +was tending to life or death.</p> + +<p>Both the priest and the priest's wife reasoned +with Baard, and urged that he was too +harsh with Eli; they had heard about the bird, +and the priest told him bluntly that such conduct +was rough; he would take the child home +to the parsonage, he said, as soon as she had +improved enough to be moved. The priest's +wife finally would not even see Baard; she +wept and sat with the sick girl, sent for the +doctor, took his orders herself, and came over +several times each day to carry them out. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> +Baard went wandering about from place to +place in the yard, going chiefly where he could +be alone; he would often stand still for a long +time, then straighten his cap with both hands, +and find something to do.</p> + +<p>The mother did not speak to him any more; +they scarcely looked at each other. Baard went +up to the sick girl's room several times each +day; he took off his shoes at the bottom of the +stairs, laid down his hat outside of the door, +which he opened cautiously. The moment he +came in, Birgit would turn as though she had +not seen him, and then sit as before, with her +head in her hand, looking straight before her +and at the sick girl. The latter lay still and +pale, unconscious of anything about her. Baard +would stand a while at the foot of the bed, look +at them both, and say nothing. Once, when Eli +moved as though about to awaken, he stole +away directly as softly as he had come.</p> + +<p>Arne often thought that words had now been +exchanged between husband and wife and parents +and child, which had been long brewing, +and which would not soon be forgotten. He +longed to get away, although he would have +liked first to know how Eli's illness would end. +But this he could learn even if he left, he +thought; he went, therefore, to Baard, and said +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> +that he wished to go home; the work for which +he had come was done. Baard sat outside on +the chopping-block when Arne came to tell him +this. He sat digging in the snow with a pin. +Arne knew the pin; for it was the same that +had fastened the weather vane. Without looking +up Baard said,—</p> + +<p>"I suppose it is not pleasant to be here now, +but I feel as if I did not want you to leave."</p> + +<p>Baard said no more; nor did Arne speak. +He stood a while, then went away and busied +himself with some work, as though it were decided +that he should remain.</p> + +<p>Later, when Arne was called in to dinner, +Baard still sat on the chopping-block. Arne +went over to him and asked how Eli was getting +on.</p> + +<p>"I think she must be pretty bad to-day," +said Baard; "I see that mother is crying."</p> + +<p>Arne felt as though some one had bidden +him to sit down, and he sat down directly opposite +Baard on the end of a fallen tree.</p> + +<p>"I have been thinking of your father these +days," said Baard, so unexpectedly, that Arne +could make no reply. "You know, I dare say, +what there was between us two?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know."</p> + +<p>"Ah, well, you only know half, as might +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> +have been expected, and naturally lay the greatest +blame on me."</p> + +<p>Arne answered presently: "You have doubtless +settled that matter with your God, as my +father has surely done."</p> + +<p>"Ah, well, that may be as one takes it," answered +Baard. "When I found this pin again, +it seemed so strange to me that you should +come here and loosen the vane. Just as well +first as last, thought I." He had taken off his +cap and sat looking into it.</p> + +<p>Arne did not yet understand that by this +Baard meant that he now wanted to talk with +him about his father. Indeed, he still did not +understand it, even after Baard was well under +way, so little was this like the man. But what +had been working before in his mind, he gradually +comprehended as the story advanced, and +if he had hitherto had respect for this blundering +but thoroughly good man, it was not lessened +now.</p> + +<p>"I might have been about fourteen years +old," said Baard, then paused, as he did from +time to time throughout his whole story, said +a few words more, and paused again in such a +manner that his story bore the strong impress +of having every word weighed. "I might have +been about fourteen years old when I became +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> +acquainted with your father, who was of the +same age. He was very wild, and could not bear +to have any one above him. And what he never +could forgive me was, that I was the head of +the class when we were confirmed, and he was +number two. He often offered to wrestle with +me, but nothing ever came of it; I suppose because +we were neither of us sure of ourselves. +But it is strange that he fought every day, and +no misfortune befell him; the one time I tried +my hand it turned out as badly as could be; +but, to be sure, I had waited a long time too.</p> + +<p>"Nils fluttered about all the girls and they +about him. There was only one I wanted, but +he took her from me at every dance, at every +wedding, at every party; it was the one to +whom I am now married.... I often had a +desire, as I sat looking on, to make a trial of +strength with him, just because of this matter; +but I was afraid I might lose, and I knew that +if I did so I should lose her too. When the +others had gone, I would lift the weights he +had lifted, kick the beam he had kicked, but +the next time he danced away from me with +the girl, I did not dare tackle him, although it +chanced once, as Nils stood joking with her +right before my face, that I laid hold of a good +sized fellow who stood by and tossed him against +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> +the beam, as though for sport. Nils grew pale, +too, that time.</p> + +<p>"If he had only been kind to the girl; but +he was false to her, and that evening after evening. +I almost think she cared more for him +each time. Then it was that the last thing +happened. I thought now it must either break +or bear. Nor did the Lord want him to go +about any longer; and therefore he fell a little +more heavily than I had intended. I never saw +him after that."</p> + +<p>They sat for a long time silent. Finally +Baard continued:—</p> + +<p>"I offered myself again. She answered +neither yes nor no; and so I thought she +would like me better afterwards. We were +married; the wedding took place down in the +valley, at the house of her father's sister, who +left her property to her; we began with plenty, +and what we then had has increased. Our +gards lay alongside of each other, and they have +since been thrown into one, as had been my idea +from boyhood up. But many other things did +not turn out as I had planned."</p> + +<p>He was long silent; Arne thought, for a +while, he was weeping; it was not so. But he +spoke in a still gentler tone than usual when he +began again,—</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> +"At first she was quiet and very sorrowful. +I had nothing to say for her comfort, and so I +was silent. Later, she fell at times into that +commanding way that you have perhaps noticed +in her; yet it was after all a change, and +so I was silent then, too. But a truly happy +day I have not had since I was married, and +that has been now for twenty years."</p> + +<p>He broke the pin in two; then he sat a while +looking at the pieces.</p> + +<p>"When Eli grew to be a large girl, I thought +she would find more happiness among strangers +than here. It is seldom that I have insisted on +anything; it usually has been wrong, too, when +I have; and so it was with this. The mother +yearned for her child, although only the lake +parted them; and at last I found out that Eli +was not under the best influences over at the +parsonage, for there is really much good-natured +nonsense about the priest's family; but I +found it out too late. Now she seems to care +for neither father nor mother."</p> + +<p>He had taken his cap off again; now his +long hair fell over his eyes; he stroked it aside, +and put on his cap with both hands, as +though about to go; but as in getting up he +turned toward the house, he stopped and added, +with a glance at the chamber window,—</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> +"I thought it was best she and Mathilde +should not bid each other good-by; but that +proved to be wrong. I told her the little bird +was dead, for it was my fault, you know, and it +seemed to me right to confess; but that was +wrong too. And so it is with everything. I +have always meant to do the best, but it has +turned out to be the worst; and now it has +gone so far that they speak ill of me, both wife +and daughter, and I am alone here."</p> + +<p class="p4b">A girl now called out to them that dinner +was getting cold. Baard got up. "I hear the +horses neighing," said he, "somebody must +have forgotten them;" and with this he went +over to the stable to give them hay.</p> + +<hr class="r20" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER XII.</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Eli</span> was very weak after her illness; the +mother sat over her night and day, and was +never down-stairs; the father made his usual +visits up to the sick-room in his stocking feet, +and leaving his cap outside of the door. Arne +was still at the gard; he and the father sat together +of evenings; he had come to think a +good deal of Baard, who was a well-educated +man, a deep thinker, but seemed to be afraid of +what he knew. Arne helped him to get things +right in his mind and told him much that he +did not know before, and Baard was very +grateful.</p> + +<p>Eli could now sit up at intervals; and as she +began to improve she took many fancies into +her head. Thus it was that one evening as +Arne sat in the room below Eli's chamber singing +songs in a loud voice, the mother came down +and brought word that Eli wanted to know if +he would not come up-stairs and sing that she +might hear the words. Arne had undoubtedly +been singing for Eli all along; for when her +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> +mother gave him the message he grew red, and +rose as though he would deny what he had been +doing, although no one had charged him with +it. He soon recovered his composure, and said +evasively that there was very little he could +sing. But the mother remarked that it did not +seem so when he was alone.</p> + +<p>Arne yielded and went. He had not seen +Eli since the day he had helped carry her up-stairs; +he felt that she must now be greatly +changed, and was almost afraid to see her. But +when he softly opened the door and entered, it +was so dark in the room that he saw no one. +He paused on the threshold.</p> + +<p>"Who is it?" asked Eli, in a clear, low +voice.</p> + +<p>"It is Arne Kampen," he answered, in a +guarded tone, that the words might fall softly.</p> + +<p>"It was kind of you to come."</p> + +<p>"How are you now, Eli?"</p> + +<p>"Thank you, I am better."</p> + +<p>"Please sit down, Arne," said she, presently, +and Arne felt his way to a chair that +stood by the foot of the bed. "It was so nice +to hear you singing, you must sing a little for +me up here."</p> + +<p>"If I only knew anything that was suitable."</p> + +<p>There was silence for a moment; then she +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> +said, "Sing a hymn," and he did so; it was a +part of one of the confirmation hymns. When +he had finished, he heard that she was weeping, +and so he dared not sing any more; but presently +she said, "Sing another one like that," +and he sang another, choosing the one usually +sung when the candidates for confirmation are +standing in the church aisle.</p> + +<p>"How many things I have thought of while +I have been lying here," said Eli. He did not +know what to answer, and he heard her weeping +quietly in the dark. A clock was ticking +on the wall, it gave warning that it was about +to strike, and then struck; Eli drew a long +breath several times as though she would ease +her breast, and then she said, "One knows so +little. I have known neither father nor mother. +I have not been kind to them,—and that is +why it gives me such strange feelings to hear +that confirmation hymn."</p> + +<p>When people talk in the dark, they are always +more truthful than when they see each +other face to face; they can say more, too.</p> + +<p>"It is good to hear your words," replied +Arne; he was thinking of what she had said +when she was taken ill.</p> + +<p>She knew what he meant; and so she remarked, +"Had not this happened to me, God +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> +only knows how long it might have been before +I had found my mother."</p> + +<p>"She has been talking with you now?"</p> + +<p>"Every day; she has done nothing else."</p> + +<p>"Then, I dare say, you have heard many +things."</p> + +<p>"You may well say so."</p> + +<p>"I suppose she talked about my father?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Does she still think of him?"</p> + +<p>"She does."</p> + +<p>"He was not kind to her."</p> + +<p>"Poor mother!"</p> + +<p>"He was worst of all, though, to himself."</p> + +<p>Thoughts now arose that neither liked to +express to the other. Eli was the first to break +the silence.</p> + +<p>"They say you are like your father."</p> + +<p>"So I have heard," he answered, evasively.</p> + +<p>She paid no heed to the tone of his voice; +and so, after a while, she continued, "Could he, +too, make songs?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Sing a song for me,—one you have made +yourself."</p> + +<p>But Arne was not in the habit of confessing +that the songs he sang were his own. "I have +none," said he.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> +"Indeed you have, and I am sure you will +sing them for me if I ask it."</p> + +<p>What he had never done for others, he now +did for her. He sang the following song:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The tree's early leaf-buds were bursting their brown:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Shall I take them away?' said the frost, sweeping down.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">'No, dear; leave them alone<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Till blossoms here have grown,'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prayed the tree, while it trembled from rootlet to crown.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The tree bore its blossoms, and all the birds sung:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Shall I take them away?' said the wind, as it swung.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">'No, dear; leave them alone<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Till berries here have grown,'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said the tree, while its leaflets all quivering hung.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The tree bore its fruit in the midsummer glow:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said the girl, 'May I gather thy berries or no?'<br /></span> +<span class="i4">'Yes, dear, all thou canst see;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Take them; all are for thee,'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said the tree, while it bent down its laden boughs low."<a name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>This song almost took her breath away. He, +too, sat there silent, after he was through, as +though he had sung more than he cared to say +to her.</p> + +<p>Darkness has great power over those who +are sitting in it and dare not speak; they are +never so near each other as then. If Eli only +turned, only moved her hand on the bed-cover, +only breathed a little more heavily than usual, +Arne heard it. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> +"Arne, could not you teach me to make +songs?"</p> + +<p>"Have you never tried?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, these last few days I have; but I have +not succeeded."</p> + +<p>"Why, what did you want to have in +them?"</p> + +<p>"Something about my mother, who cared so +much for your father."</p> + +<p>"That is a sad theme."</p> + +<p>"I have cried over it, too."</p> + +<p>"You must not think of what you are going +to put in your songs; it comes of itself."</p> + +<p>"How does it come?"</p> + +<p>"As other precious things, when you least +expect it."</p> + +<p>They were both silent.</p> + +<p>"I wonder, Arne, that you are longing to +go away when you have so much that is beautiful +within yourself."</p> + +<p>"Do <i>you</i> know that I am longing?"</p> + +<p>She made no reply to this, but lay still a few +moments, as though in thought.</p> + +<p>"Arne, you must not go away!" said she, +and this sent a glow through him.</p> + +<p>"Well, sometimes I have less desire to go."</p> + +<p>"Your mother must be very fond of you. I +should like to see your mother."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> +"Come over to Kampen when you are well."</p> + +<p>And now all at once he pictured her sitting +in the cheerful room at Kampen, looking +out on the mountains; his chest began to heave, +the blood rushed to his head. "It is warm in +here," said he, getting up.</p> + +<p>She heard this. "Are you going, Arne?" +asked she, and he sat down again.</p> + +<p>"You must come over to us often; mother +likes you so much."</p> + +<p>"I should be glad to come myself; but I must +have some errand, though."</p> + +<p>Eli was silent for a while, as if she were +considering something. "I believe," said she, +"that mother has something she wants to ask +of you."</p> + +<p>He heard her turn in bed. There was no +sound to be heard, either in the room or outside, +save the ticking of the clock on the wall. +At last she burst out,—</p> + +<p>"How I wish it were summer!"</p> + +<p>"That it were summer?" and there rose up +in his mind, blended with fragrant foliage and +the tinkling of cattle bells, shouts from the +mountains, singing from the valleys, Black +Water glittering in the sunshine, the gards +rocking in it, and Eli coming out and sitting +down, as she had done that evening long ago.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> +"If it were summer," said she, "and I +were sitting on the hill, I really believe I +could sing a song."</p> + +<p>He laughed and asked: "What would it be +about?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, something easy, about—I do not know +myself—"</p> + +<p>"Tell me, Eli!" and he sprang up in delight; +then, recollecting himself, he sat down +again.</p> + +<p>"No; not for all the world!" She laughed.</p> + +<p>"I sang for you when you asked me."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you did; but—no! no!"</p> + +<p>"Eli, do you think I would make sport of +your little verse?"</p> + +<p>"No; I do not think so, Arne; but it is +not anything I have made myself."</p> + +<p>"It is by some one else, then."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it just came floating of itself."</p> + +<p>"Then you can surely repeat it to me."</p> + +<p>"No, no; it is not altogether that either, +Arne. Do not ask me any more." She must +have hid her face in the bedclothes, for the last +words seemed to come out of them.</p> + +<p>"You are not as kind to me now, Eli, as I +was to you!" he said, and rose.</p> + +<p>"Arne, there is a difference—you do not +understand me—but it was—I do not know +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> +myself—another time—do not be angry with +me, Arne! Do not go away from me!" She +began to weep.</p> + +<p>"Eli, what is the matter?" He listened. +"Are you feeling ill?" He did not think she +was. She still wept; he thought that he must +either go forward or backward.</p> + +<p>"Eli!"</p> + +<p>"Yes!"</p> + +<p>They both spoke in whispers.</p> + +<p>"Give me your hand!"</p> + +<p>She did not answer; he listened intently, +eagerly, felt about on the coverlid, and clasped +a warm little hand that lay outside.</p> + +<p>They heard steps on the stairs, and let go of +each other's hands. It was Eli's mother, who +was bringing in a light. "You are sitting +quite too long in the dark," said she, and put +the candlestick on the table. But neither Eli +nor Arne could bear the light; she turned +toward the pillow, he held his hand up before +his eyes. "Oh, yes; it hurts the eyes a little +at first," said her mother; "but that will soon +pass off."</p> + +<p>Arne searched on the floor for the cap he +did not have with him, and then he left the +room.</p> + +<p class="p4b"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> +The next day he heard that Eli was coming +down-stairs for a little while after dinner. He +gathered together his tools, and said good-by. +When she came down he was gone.</p> + +<hr class="r20" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER XIII.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">Spring</span> comes late in the mountains. The +mail that passed along the highway during the +winter three times a week, in April only passes +once, and the inhabitants know then that in +the outside world the snow is thawed, the ice +broken; that the steamers are running, and the +plow put into the earth. Here, the snow still +lies three ells deep; the cattle low in the stalls, +and the birds come, but hide themselves, shivering +with the cold. Occasionally some traveler +arrives, saying he has left his cart down in the +valley, and he has flowers with him, which he +shows,—he has gathered them by the wayside. +Then the people become restless, go about talking +together, look at the sky and down in the +valley, wondering how much the sun gains each +day. They strew ashes on the snow, and think +of those who are now gathering flowers.</p> + +<p>It was at such a time that old Margit Kampen +came walking up to the parsonage and asked +to speak with "father."<a name="FNanchor_24_24" id="FNanchor_24_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a> She was invited into +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> +the study, where the priest, a slender, fair-haired, +gentle-looking man with large eyes and +spectacles, received her kindly, knew who she +was, and asked her to sit down.</p> + +<p>"Is it now something about Arne again?" +he inquired, as though they had often talked +together about him.</p> + +<p>"Heaven help me!" said Margit; "it is +never anything but good I have to say of him, +and yet my heart is so heavy." She looked +very sad as she spoke.</p> + +<p>"Has that longing come back again?" +asked the priest.</p> + +<p>"Worse than ever," said the mother. "I +do not even believe he will stay with me until +spring comes to us here."</p> + +<p>"And yet he has promised never to leave +you."</p> + +<p>"True enough; but, dear me, he must manage +for himself now; when the mind is set upon +going, go one must, I suppose. But what will +become of me?"</p> + +<p>"Still I will believe, as long as possible, that +he will not leave you," said the priest.</p> + +<p>"Certainly not; but what if he should never +be content at home? I would then have it on +my conscience that I stood in his way. There +are times when I think I ought to ask him +myself to go away."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> +"How do you know that he is longing now +more than ever?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, from many things. Since midwinter +he has not worked out in the parish a single +day. On the other hand, he has made three +trips to town, and has stayed away a long while +each time. He scarcely ever talks now when +he is working, as he often used to do. He sits +for hours by the little window up-stairs, and +looks out over the mountains in the direction +of the Kamp gorge; he sometimes stays there +a whole Sunday afternoon, and often when it is +moonlight, he sits there far into the night."</p> + +<p>"Does he never read to you?"</p> + +<p>"Of course he reads and sings to me every +Sunday; but he always seems in a hurry, except +now and then, when he overdoes it."</p> + +<p>"Does he never come and talk with you?"</p> + +<p>"He often lets so long a time pass without +saying a word, that I cannot help crying when +I sit alone. Then, I suppose, he sees this, for +he begins to talk with me, but it is always +about trifles, never about anything serious."</p> + +<p>The priest was walking up and down; now +he stopped and asked, "Why do you not speak +with him about it?"</p> + +<p>It was some time before she made any reply +to this; she sighed several times, she looked +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> +first downward, then on either side,—she folded +the handkerchief she carried.</p> + +<p>"I came here to-day to have a talk with father +about something that lies heavily on my +heart."</p> + +<p>"Speak freely, it will lighten the burden."</p> + +<p>"I know that; for I have now dragged it +along alone these many years, and it grows +heavier each year."</p> + +<p>"What is it, my good woman?"</p> + +<p>There was a brief pause; then she said, "I +have sinned greatly against my son,"—and she +began to cry.</p> + +<p>The priest came close up to her. "Confess +it to me," said he, "then we will together pray +God that you may be forgiven."</p> + +<p>Margit sobbed and dried her eyes, but began +to weep afresh as soon as she tried to speak, +and this was repeated several times. The +priest comforted her, and said she surely could +not have been guilty of anything very sinful, +that she was no doubt too strict with herself, +and so on. Margit wept, however, and could +not muster the courage to begin until the priest +had seated himself by her side and spoken +kindly words to her. Then, in broken sentences, +she faltered forth her confession:—</p> + +<p>"He had a hard time of it when he was a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> +boy, and so his mind became bent on travel. +Then he met Kristian, he who has grown so +very rich over there where they dig for gold. +Kristian gave Arne so many books that he +ceased to be like the rest of us; they sat together +in the long evenings, and when Kristian +went away, my boy longed to follow him. Just +at that time, though, his father fell down dead, +and Arne promised never to leave me. Yet I +was like a hen that had brooded a duck's egg, +when the young duckling had burst the shell, +he wanted to go out on the great water, and I +remained on the bank screaming. If he did +not actually go away himself, his heart went in +his songs, and every morning I thought I would +find his bed empty.</p> + +<p>"Then there came a letter for him from a +far-off country, and I knew it must be from +Kristian. God forgive me, I hid it! I thought +that would be the end of the matter, but still +another one came, and as I had kept the first +from him, I had to keep the second one too. +But, indeed, it seemed as though they would +burn a hole in the chest where they lay, for +my thoughts would go there from the time I +opened my eyes in the morning until I closed +them at night. And you never have known +anything so bad as this, for there came a third! +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> +I stood holding it in my hand for a quarter of +an hour; I carried it in my bosom for three +days, weighing within me whether I should +give it to him or lay it away with the others, +but perhaps it would have power to lure the +boy away from me, and I could not help it, I +put the letter away with the others. Now I +went about in sorrow every day, both because +of those that were in the chest and because of +the new ones that might come. I was afraid +of every person who came to our house. When +we were in the house together, and there came +a knock at the door, I trembled, for it might be +a letter, and then <i>he</i> would get it. When he +was out in the parish, I kept thinking at home +that now perhaps he would get a letter while +he was away, and that it might have something +in it about those that had come before. When +he was coming home, I watched his face in the +distance, and, dear me! how happy I was when +I saw him smiling, for then I knew he had no +letter! He had grown so handsome, too, just +like his father, but much fairer and more gentle-looking. +And then he had such a voice for +singing: when he sat outside of the door at +sunset, singing toward the mountain ridge and +listening for the echo, I felt in my heart that I +never could live without him! If I only saw +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> +him, or if I knew he was anywhere around, and +he looked tolerably happy, and would only give +me a word now and then, I wished for nothing +more on earth, and would not have had a single +tear unshed.</p> + +<p>"But just as he seemed to be getting on better, +and to be feeling more at ease among people, +there came word from the parish post-office +that a fourth letter had now come, and that in +it there were two hundred dollars! I thought +I should drop right down on the spot where I +stood. What should I do now? The letter, of +course, I could get out of the way; but the +money? I could not sleep for several nights +on account of this money. I kept it up in the +garret for a while, then left it in the cellar behind +a barrel, and once I was so beside myself +that I laid it in the window so that he might +find it. When I heard him coming, I took it +away again. At last I found a way, though. +I gave him the money and said it had been out +at interest since mother's lifetime. He spent +it in improving the gard, as had been in my +own mind, and there it was not lost. But then +it happened that same autumn that he sat one +evening wondering why Kristian had so entirely +forgotten him.</p> + +<p>"Now the wound opened afresh, and the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> +money burned. What I had done as a sin, +and the sin had been of no use to me!</p> + +<p>"The mother who has sinned against her +own child is the most unhappy of all mothers,—and +yet I only did it out of love. So I shall +be punished, I dare say, by losing what is dearest +to me. For since midwinter he has taken +up again the tune he sings when he is longing; +he has sung it from boyhood up, and I never +hear it without growing pale. Then I feel I +could give up all for him, and now you shall see +for yourself,"—she took a scrap of paper out +of her bosom, unfolded it, and gave it to the +priest,—"here is something he is writing at +from time to time; it certainly belongs to that +song. I brought it with me, for I cannot read +such fine writing; please see if there is anything +in it about his going away."</p> + +<p>There was only one stanza on this paper. For +the second one there were half and whole lines +here and there, as if it were a song he had forgotten, +and was now calling to mind again, verse +by verse. The first stanza ran,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Oh, how I wonder what I should see<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Over the lofty mountains!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Snow here shuts out the view from me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round about stands the green pine-tree.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Longing to hasten over—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Dare it become a rover?"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> +"Is it about his going away?" asked Margit, +her eyes fixed eagerly on the priest's face.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is," answered he, and let the paper +drop.</p> + +<p>"Was I not sure of it! Ah, me! I know +that tune so well!" She looked at the priest, +her hands folded, anxious, intent, while tear +after tear trickled down her cheek.</p> + +<p>But the priest knew as little how to advise +as she. "The boy must be left to himself in +this matter," said he. "Life cannot be altered +for his sake, but it depends on himself whether +he shall one day find out its meaning. Now +it seems he wants to go away to do so."</p> + +<p>"But was it not just so with the old woman?" +said Margit.</p> + +<p>"With the old woman?" repeated the priest.</p> + +<p>"Yes; she who went out to fetch the sunshine +into her house, instead of cutting windows +in the walls."</p> + +<p>The priest was astonished at her shrewdness; +but it was not the first time she had surprised +him when she was on this theme; for +Margit, indeed, had not thought of anything +else for seven or eight years.</p> + +<p>"Do you think he will leave me? What +shall I do? And the money? And the letters?" +All this crowded upon her at once.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> +"Well, it was not right about the letters. +You can hardly be justified in withholding +from your son what belonged to him. It was +still worse, however, to place a fellow Christian +in a bad light when it was not deserved, +and the worst of all was that it was one whom +Arne loved and who was very fond of him in +return. But we will pray God to forgive you, +we will both pray."</p> + +<p>Margit bowed her head; she still sat with +her hands folded.</p> + +<p>"How earnestly I would pray him for forgiveness, +if I only knew he would stay!" She +was probably confounding in her mind the +Lord and Arne.</p> + +<p>The priest pretended he had not noticed +this. "Do you mean to confess this to him at +once?" he asked.</p> + +<p>She looked down and said in a low tone, +"If I dared wait a little while I should like to +do so."</p> + +<p>The priest turned aside to hide a smile, as he +asked, "Do you not think your sin becomes +greater the longer you delay the confession?"</p> + +<p>Both hands were busied with her handkerchief: +she folded it into a very small square, +and tried to get it into a still smaller one, but +that was not possible.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> +"If I confess about the letters, I am afraid +he will leave me."</p> + +<p>"You dare not place your reliance on the +Lord, then?"</p> + +<p>"Why, to be sure I do!" she said hurriedly; +then she added softly, "But what if he should +go anyway?"</p> + +<p>"So, then, you are more afraid of Arne's +leaving you than of continuing in sin?"</p> + +<p>Margit had unfolded her handkerchief again; +she put it now to her eyes, for she was beginning +to weep.</p> + +<p>The priest watched her for a while, then he +continued: "Why did you tell me all this +when you did not mean it to lead to anything?" +He waited a long time, but she did +not answer. "You thought, perhaps, your sin +would become less when you had confessed +it?"</p> + +<p>"I thought that it would," said she, softly, +with her head bowed still farther down on her +breast.</p> + +<p>The priest smiled and got up. "Well, well, +my dear Margit, you must act so that you will +have joy in your old age."</p> + +<p>"If I could only keep what I have!" said she; +and the priest thought she dared not imagine +any greater happiness than living in her constant +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> +state of anxiety. He smiled as he lit +his pipe.</p> + +<p>"If we only had a little girl who could get +hold of him, then you should see that he would +stay!"</p> + +<p>She looked up quickly, and her eyes followed +the priest until he paused in front of her.</p> + +<p>"Eli Böen? What"—</p> + +<p>She colored and looked down again; but she +made no reply.</p> + +<p>The priest, who had stood still, waiting, said +finally, but this time in quite a low tone +"What if we should arrange it so that they +should meet oftener at the parsonage?"</p> + +<p>She glanced up at the priest to find out +whether he was really in earnest. But she did +not quite dare believe him.</p> + +<p>The priest had begun to walk up and down +again, but now he paused. "See here, Margit! +When it comes to the point, perhaps this was +your whole errand here to-day, hey?"</p> + +<p>She bowed her head far down, she thrust +two fingers into the folded handkerchief, and +brought out a corner of it. "Well, yes, God +help me; that was exactly what I wanted."</p> + +<p>The priest burst out laughing, and rubbed +his hands. "Perhaps that was what you +wanted the last time you were here, too?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> +She drew the corner of the handkerchief farther +out; she stretched it and stretched it. +"Since you ask me, yes, it was just that."</p> + +<p>"Ha, ha, ha, ha! Ah, Margit! Margit! +We shall see what we can do; for, to tell the +truth, my wife and daughter have for a long +time had the same thoughts as you."</p> + +<p>"Is it possible?" She looked up, at once +so happy and so bashful, that the priest had +his own delight in her open, pretty face, in +which the childlike expression had been preserved +through all sorrow and anxiety.</p> + +<p>"Ah, well, Margit, you, whose love is so great, +will, I have no doubt, obtain forgiveness, for +love's sake, both from your God and from your +son, for the wrong you have done. You have +probably been punished enough already in the +continual, wearing anxiety you have lived in; +we shall, if God is willing, bring this to a +speedy end, for, if He <i>wishes</i> this, He will help +us a little now."</p> + +<p class="p4b">She drew a long sigh, which she repeated +again and again; then she arose, gave her +thanks, dropped a courtesy, and courtesied +again at the door. But she was scarcely well +outside before a change came over her. She +cast upward a look beaming with gratitude, +and she hurried more and more the farther she +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> +got away from people, and lightly as she tripped +down toward Kampen that day, she had not +done for many, many years. When she got +so far on her way that she could see the thick +smoke curling gayly up from the chimney, she +blessed the house, the whole gard, the priest, +and Arne,—and then remembered that they +were going to have smoked beef for dinner,—her +favorite dish!</p> + +<hr class="r20" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER XIV.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kampen</span> was a beautiful gard. It lay in the +midst of a plain, bordered below by the Kamp +gorge, and above by the parish road; on the +opposite side of the road was a thick wood, a +little farther beyond, a rising mountain ridge, +and behind this the blue, snow-capped mountains. +On the other side of the gorge there +was also a broad mountain range, which first +entirely surrounded Black Water on the side +where Böen lay, then grew higher toward +Kampen, but at the same time turned aside +to make way for the broad basin called the +lower parish, and which began just below, for +Kampen was the last gard in the upper parish.</p> + +<p>The front door of the dwelling-house was +turned toward the road; it was probably about +two thousand paces off; a path with leafy birch-trees +on either side led thither. The wood lay +on both sides of the clearing; the fields and +meadows could, therefore, extend as far as the +owners themselves wished; it was in all respects +a most excellent gard. A little garden +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> +lay in front of the house. Arne managed it as +his books directed. To the left were the stables +and other out-houses. They were nearly +all new built, and formed a square opposite the +dwelling-house. The latter was painted red, +with white window-frames and doors, was two +stories high, thatched with turf, and small +shrubs grew on the roof; the one gable had a +vane staff, on which turned an iron cock, with +high, spread tail.</p> + +<p>Spring had come to the mountain districts. +It was a Sunday morning; there was a little +heaviness in the air, but it was calm and without +frost; mist hung over the wood, but Margit +thought it would lift during the day. Arne +had read the sermon for his mother and sung +the hymns, which had done him good; now he +was in full trim, ready to go up to the parsonage. +He opened the door, the fresh perfume of +the leaves was wafted toward him, the garden +lay dew-covered and bowed by the morning +mist, and from the Kamp gorge there came +a roaring, mingled at intervals with mighty +booms, making everything tremble to the ear +and the eye.</p> + +<p>Arne walked upward. The farther he got +from the force the less awe-inspiring became its +roar, which finally spread itself like the deep +tones of an organ over the whole landscape.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> +"The Lord be with him on his way!" said +the mother, opening the window and looking +after him until the shrubbery closed about him. +The fog lifted more and more, the sun cut +through it; there was life now about the fields +and in the garden; all Arne's work sprouted +out in fresh growth, sending fragrance and joy +up to the mother. Spring is lovely to those +who long have been surrounded by winter.</p> + +<p>Arne had no fixed errand at the parsonage, +but still he wanted to learn about the papers +he and the priest took together. Recently he +had seen the names of several Norsemen who +had done remarkably well digging gold in +America, and among them was Kristian. Now +Arne had heard a rumor that Kristian was expected +home. He could, no doubt, get information +about this at the parsonage,—and if +Kristian had really returned, then Arne would +go to him in the interval between spring and +haying time. This was working in his mind +until he had advanced so far that he could see +Black Water, and Böen on the other side. The +fog had lifted there, too; the sun was playing +on the green, the mountain loomed up with +shining peak, but the fog was still lying in its +lap; the wood darkened the water on the right +side, but in front of the house the ground was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> +more flat, and its white sand glittered in the +sunshine. Suddenly his thoughts sped to the +red-painted building with white doors and window-frames, +that he had had in mind when he +painted his own. He did not remember those +first gloomy days he had passed there; he only +thought of that bright summer they had both +seen, he and Eli, up beside her sick-bed. Since +then he had not been to Böen, nor would he go +there, not for the whole world. If only his +thoughts barely touched on it, he grew crimson +and abashed; and yet this happened again +every day, and many times a day. If there +was anything which could drive him out of the +parish, it was just this!</p> + +<p>Onward he went, as though he would flee +from his thoughts, but the farther he walked +the nearer opposite Böen he came, and the more +he gazed upon it. The fog was entirely gone, +the sky clear from one mountain outline to the +other, the birds sailed along and called aloud to +one another in the glad sunny air, the fields responded +with millions of flowers; the Kamp +force did not here compel gladness to bow the +knee in submission and awe, but buoyant and +frolicsome it tumbled over, singing, twinkling, +rejoicing without end!</p> + +<p>Arne had walked till he was in a glowing +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> +heat; he flung himself down in the grass at the +foot of a hill, looked over towards Böen, then +turned away to avoid seeing it. Presently he +heard singing above him, pure and clear, as song +had never sounded to him before; it floated out +over the meadow, mingled with the chattering +of the birds, and he was scarcely sure of the +tune before he recognized the words too,—for +the tune was his favorite one, and the words +were those that had been working in his mind +from the time he was a boy, and forgotten the +same day he had brought them forth! He +sprang up as though he would catch them, then +paused and listened; here came the first stanza, +here came the second, here came the third and +the fourth of his own forgotten song streaming +down to him:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Oh, how I wonder what I should see<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Over the lofty mountains!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Snow here shuts out the view from me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round about stands the green pine-tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Longing to hasten over—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Dare it become a rover?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Soars the eagle with strong wing play,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Over the lofty mountains;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rows through the young and vigorous day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sating his courage in quest of prey;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">When he will swooping downward,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Tow'rd far-off lands gazing onward.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> +<span class="i0">"Leaf-heavy apple, wilt thou not go<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Over the lofty mountains?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forth putting buds 'mid summer's glow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou wilt till next time wait, I know;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">All of these birds art swinging,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Knowing not what they're singing.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"He who for twenty years longed to flee<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Over the lofty mountains,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor beyond them can hope to see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smaller each year feels himself to be;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Hears what the birds are singing,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Thou art with confidence swinging.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Bird, with thy chatt'ring, what wouldst thou here<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Over the lofty mountains?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fairer the lands beyond must appear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Higher the trees and the skies far more clear.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Wouldst thou but longing be bringing,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Bird, but no wings with thy singing?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Shall I the journey never take<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Over the lofty mountains?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must my poor thoughts on this rock-wall break?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must it a dread, ice-bound prison make,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Shutting at last in around me,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Till for my tomb it surround me?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Forth will I! forth! Oh, far, far away,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Over the lofty mountains!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will be crushed and consumed if I stay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Courage tow'rs up and seeks the way,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Let it its flight now be taking,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Not on this rock-wall be breaking!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"One day I know I shall wander afar<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Over the lofty mountains!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lord, my God, is thy door ajar?<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Good is thy home where the blessed are;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Keep it though closed a while longer,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Till my deep longing grow stronger."<a name="FNanchor_25_25" id="FNanchor_25_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Arne stood still until the last verse, the last +word, had died away. Again he heard the birds +sporting and twittering, but he knew not +whether he himself dared stir. Find out who +had been singing, though, he must; he raised +his foot and trod so carefully that he could +not hear the grass rustle. A little butterfly +alighted on a flower, directly at his feet, had +to start up again, flew only a little piece farther, +had to start up again, and so on all over +the hill as he crept cautiously up. Soon he +came to a leafy bush, and cared to go no farther, +for now he could see. A bird flew up +from the bush, gave a startled cry and darted +over the sloping hill-side, and then she who +was sitting within view looked up. Arne +stooped far down, holding his breath, his heart +throbbing so wildly that he heard its every +beat, listening, not daring to move a leaf, for +it was, indeed, she,—it was Eli whom he +saw!</p> + +<p>After a long, long while, he looked up just +a little, and would gladly have drawn a step +nearer but he thought the bird might perhaps +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> +have its nest under the bush, and was +afraid he would tread on it. He peered out between +the leaves as they blew aside and closed +together again. The sun shone directly on +her. She wore a black dress without sleeves,<a name="FNanchor_26_26" id="FNanchor_26_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a> +and had a boy's straw hat perched lightly on +her head, and slanting a little to one side. In +her lap lay a book, and on it a profusion of wild +flowers; her right hand was dreamily toying +with them; in her left, which rested on her +knee, her head was bowed. She was gazing +in the direction of the bird's flight, and it really +seemed as though she had been weeping.</p> + +<p>Anything more lovely Arne had neither seen +nor dreamed of in his whole life; the sun, too, +had scattered all its gold over her and the spot +where she was sitting, and the song still floated +about her, although its last notes had long since +been sung, so that he thought, breathed—aye, +even his heart beat in time to it.</p> + +<p>She took up the book and opened it, but soon +closed it again and sat as before, beginning to +hum something else. It was, "The tree's early +leaf-buds were bursting their brown." He +knew it at once, although she did not quite +remember either the words or the tune, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> +made many mistakes. The stanza she knew +best was the last one, therefore she often repeated +it; but she sang it thus:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The tree bore its berries, so mellow and red:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'May I gather thy berries?' a sweet maiden said.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">'Yes, dear; all thou canst see;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Take them; all are for thee;'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said the tree—trala-lala, trala, lala—said."<a name="FNanchor_27_27" id="FNanchor_27_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Then suddenly she sprang up, scattering the +flowers all around her, and sang aloud, so that +the tune, as it quivered through the air, could +easily be heard all the way over to Böen. And +then she ran away. Should he call after her? +No! There she went skipping over the hills, +singing, trolling; her hat fell off, she picked it +up again; and then she stood still in the midst +of the tallest grass.</p> + +<p>"Shall I call after her? She is looking +round!"</p> + +<p>He quickly stooped down. It was a long +while before he dared peep forth again; at first +he only raised his head; he could not see her: +then he drew himself up on his knees, and still +could not see her; finally, he got all the way +up. No, she was gone! +He no longer wanted to go to the parsonage. +He wanted nothing!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> +Later he sat where she had been sitting, still +sat there until the sun drew near the meridian. +The lake was not ruffled by a single ripple; the +smoke from the gards began to curl upward; +the land-rails, one after another, had ceased +their call; the small birds, though, continued +their sportive gambols, but withdrew to the +wood; the dew was gone and the grass looked +sober; not a breath of wind stirred the leaves; +it was about an hour from noon. Arne scarcely +knew how it was that he found himself seated +there, weaving together a little song; a sweet +melody offered itself for it, and into a heart +curiously full of all that was gentle, the tune +came and went until the picture was complete. +He sang the song calmly as he had made it:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"He went in the forest the whole day long,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">The whole day long;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For there he had heard such a wonderful song,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">A wonderful song.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"He fashioned a flute from a willow spray,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">A willow spray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see if within it the sweet tune lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">The sweet tune lay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It whispered and told him its name at last,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Its name at last;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But then, while he listened, away it passed,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Away it passed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But oft when he slumbered, again it stole,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Again it stole,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> +<span class="i0">With touches of love upon his soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Upon his soul.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Then he tried to catch it, and keep it fast,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And keep it fast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he woke, and away in the night it passed,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">In the night it passed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'My Lord, let me pass in the night, I pray,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">In the night, I pray;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the tune has taken my heart away,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">My heart away.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Then answered the Lord, 'It is thy friend<br /></span> +<span class="i6">It is thy friend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though not for an hour shall thy longing end,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Thy longing end;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'And all the others are nothing to thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Nothing to thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To this that thou seekest and never shalt see,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Never shalt see.'"<a name="FNanchor_28_28" id="FNanchor_28_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><br /></p> +<hr class="r20" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span></p> +<h3>CHAPTER XV.</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was a Sunday evening in midsummer; +the priest had returned from church, and Margit +had been sitting with him until it was nearly +seven o'clock. Now she took her leave, and +hastened down the steps and out into the yard, +for there she had just caught sight of Eli Böen, +who had been playing for some time with the +priest's son and her own brother.</p> + +<p>"Good evening!" said Margit, standing still, +"and God bless you all!"</p> + +<p>"Good evening!" replied Eli, blushing crimson, +and showing a desire to stop playing, although +the boys urged her to continue; but +she begged to be excused, and they had to let +her go for that evening.</p> + +<p>"It seems to me I ought to know you," said +Margit.</p> + +<p>"That is quite likely," was the reply.</p> + +<p>"This surely never can be Eli Böen?"</p> + +<p>Yes, it was she.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear me! So you are Eli Böen! Yes, +now I see you are like your mother."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> +Eli's auburn hair had become unfastened, so +that it floated carelessly about her; her face was +as hot and as red as a berry, her bosom heaved, +she could not speak, and laughed because she +was so out of breath.</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is the way with young people."</p> + +<p>Margit looked at Eli with satisfaction as she +spoke.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you do not know me?"</p> + +<p>Eli had no doubt wanted to ask who she was, +but could not command the courage to do so, +because the other was so much older than she; +now she said that she did not remember having +seen her before.</p> + +<p>"Well, to be sure, that is scarcely to be expected; +old folks seldom get out. You may +perhaps know my son, Arne Kampen. I am +his mother." She stole a sly glance, as she +spoke, at Eli, on whom these words wrought a +considerable change. "I am inclined to think +he worked over at Böen once, did he not?"</p> + +<p>Yes, it was Eli's impression, too, that he had +done so.</p> + +<p>"The weather is fine this evening. We +turned our hay to-day, and got it in before I +left home; it is really blessed weather."</p> + +<p>"There will surely be a good hay-harvest this +year," Eli observed.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> +"Yes, you may well say so. I suppose everything +looks splendidly over at Böen."</p> + +<p>"They are through harvesting there."</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course; plenty of help, stirring people. +Are you going home this evening?"</p> + +<p>No, she did not intend to do so. They talked +together about one thing and another and gradually +became so well acquainted that Margit +felt at liberty to ask Eli to walk a short distance +with her.</p> + +<p>"Could you not keep me company a few +steps?" said she. "I so seldom find any one to +talk with, and I dare say it will make no difference +to you."</p> + +<p>Eli excused herself because she had not her +jacket on.</p> + +<p>"Well, I know, it is really a shame to ask +such a thing the first time I meet a person; but +then one has to bear with old folks."</p> + +<p>Eli said she was quite willing to go, she only +wanted to fetch her jacket.</p> + +<p>It was a close-fitting jacket; when it was +hooked, she looked as if she wore a complete +dress; but now she only fastened the two lowest +hooks, she was so warm. Her fine linen had +a small turned down collar, and was fastened +at the throat with a silver button, in the form +of a bird with outspread wings. Such a one +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> +tailor Nils had worn the first time Margit Kampen +had danced with him.</p> + +<p>"What a handsome button," she remarked, +looking at it.</p> + +<p>"My mother gave it to me," said Eli.</p> + +<p>"Yes, so I thought," and Margit helped the +girl adjust it as she spoke.</p> + +<p>Now they walked on along the road. The +new-mown hay was lying about in heaps. Margit +took up a handful, smelled it, and thought +it was good. She asked about the live stock at +the parsonage, was led thereby to inquire about +that at Böen, and then told how much they +had at Kampen.</p> + +<p>"The gard has prospered finely of late years, +and it can be made as much larger as we ourselves +wish. It feeds twelve milch cows now, +and could feed more; but Arne reads a great +many books, and manages according to them, +and so he must have his cows fed in a first-rate +way."</p> + +<p>Eli made no reply to all this, as was quite +natural; but Margit asked her how old she was. +She was nineteen.</p> + +<p>"Have you taken any part in the house-work? +You look so dainty, I suppose it has +not been much."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> +Oh, yes, she had helped in various ways, especially +of late.</p> + +<p>"Well, it is a good thing to become accustomed +to a little of everything; if one should +get a large house of one's own, there might be +many things to be done. But, to be sure, when +one finds good help already in the house, it +does not matter so very much."</p> + +<p>Eli now thought she ought to turn back, for +they had gone far beyond the parsonage lands.</p> + +<p>"It will be some time yet before the sun +sets; it would be kind if you would chat with +me a little longer." And Eli went on.</p> + +<p>Then Margit began to talk about Arne. "I +do not know if you are very well acquainted +with him. He can teach you something about +everything. Bless me! how much that boy has +read!"</p> + +<p>Eli confessed that she was aware he had read +a great deal.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; that is really the least that can +be said of him. Why, his conduct to his mother +all his days is something far beyond that. If +the old saying is true, that one who is good to +his mother is sure to be good to his wife, the +girl Arne chooses will not have very much to +grumble about. What is it you are looking +for, child?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> +"I only lost a little twig I had in my hand."</p> + +<p>They were both silent after this, and walked +on without looking at each other.</p> + +<p>"He has such strange ways," began the +mother, presently; "he was so often frightened +when he was a child that he got into the habit +of thinking everything over to himself, and +such folks never know how to put themselves +forward."</p> + +<p>Now Eli insisted on turning back, but Margit +assured her that it was only a short distance +now to Kampen, and see Kampen she must, as +she was so near. But Eli thought it was too +late that day.</p> + +<p>"There is always some one who can go home +with you," said Margit.</p> + +<p>"No, no," promptly replied Eli, and was +about to leave.</p> + +<p>"To be sure, Arne is not at home," said +Margit; "so it will not be he; but there will +be sure to be some one else."</p> + +<p>Now Eli had less objection to going; besides, +she wanted very much to see Kampen. "If +only it does not grow too late," said she.</p> + +<p>"Well, if we stand here much longer talking +about it, I suppose it may grow too late," and +they went on.</p> + +<p>"You have read a great deal, I dare say; +you who were brought up at the priest's?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> +Yes, Eli had read a good deal.</p> + +<p>"That will be useful," Margit suggested, +"when you are married to one who knows less +than you."</p> + +<p>Eli thought she would never be married to +such a person.</p> + +<p>"Ah, well, it would perhaps not be best +either; but in this parish there is so little +learning."</p> + +<p>Eli asked where the smoke rising yonder in +the wood came from.</p> + +<p>"It comes from the new houseman's place +belonging to Kampen. A man called Upland +Knut lives there. He was alone in the world, +and so Arne gave him that place to clear. He +knows what it is to be lonely, my poor Arne."</p> + +<p>Soon they reached an ascent whence the gard +could be seen. The sun shone full in their +faces; they held up their hands to shade their +eyes and gazed down at Kampen. It lay in the +midst of a plain, the houses red painted and +with white window-frames; the grass in the +surrounding meadows had been mown, the hay +might still be seen in heaps here and there, the +grain-fields lay green and rich among the pale +meadows; over by the cow-house all was stir +and bustle: the cows, sheep, and goats were +just coming home, their bells were tinkling +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> +the dogs were barking, the milk-maids shouting, +while above all rose with awful din the +roar of the force in the Kamp gorge. The +longer Eli looked, the more completely this +grand tune filled her ears, and at last it seemed +so appalling to her that her heart throbbed +wildly; it roared and thundered through her +head until she grew bewildered, and at the +same time felt so warm and tender that involuntarily +she took such short, hesitating steps, +that Margit begged her to walk a little faster.</p> + +<p>She started. "I never heard anything like +that waterfall," said she; "I am almost afraid +of it."</p> + +<p>"You will soon get used to it," said the +mother; "at last you would even miss it if +you could not hear it."</p> + +<p>"Dear me! do you think so?" cried Eli.</p> + +<p>"Well, you will see," said Margit, smiling.</p> + +<p>"Come now, let us first look at the cattle," +she continued, turning off from the main +road. "These trees on each side Nils planted. +He wanted to have everything nice, Nils did, +that is what Arne likes too; look! there you +can see the garden my boy has laid out."</p> + +<p>"Oh, how pretty!" cried Eli, running over +to the garden fence. She had often seen Kampen, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> +but only from a distance, where the garden +was not visible.</p> + +<p>"We will look at that after a while," said +Margit.</p> + +<p>Eli hastily glanced through the windows, as +she went past the house; there was no one inside.</p> + +<p>They stationed themselves on the barn-bridge +and watched the cows as they passed lowing +into the stable. Margit named them to Eli, +told how much milk each one gave, and which +of them calved in the summer, which did not. +The sheep were counted and let into the fold; +they were of a large, foreign breed; Arne had +raised them from two lambs he got from the +south. "He gives much attention to all such +things, although you would not think it of +him."</p> + +<p>They now went into the barn, and examined +the hay that had been housed, and Eli had +to smell it—"for such hay is not to be found +everywhere." Margit pointed through the +barn-hatch over the fields, and told what each +one yielded and how much was sown of each +kind of seed.</p> + +<p>They went out toward the house; but Eli, +who had not spoken a word in reply to all +that had been said, as they passed by the garden, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> +asked if she might go into it. And when +leave had been given her to go, she begged to +be allowed to pluck a flower or two. There +was a little bench away in one corner; she +went and sat down on it, only to try it, apparently, +for she rose at once.</p> + +<p>"We must hurry now, if we would not be +too late," said Margit, standing in the door. +And now they went in. Margit asked Eli if +she should offer her some refreshments on this +her first visit; but Eli blushed and hastily declined. +Then the girl's eyes wandered all +around the room they had entered; it was +where the family sat in the day-time, and the +windows opened on the road; the room was +not large but it was cozy, and there was a +clock and a stove in it. On the wall hung +Nils's fiddle, dingy and old, but with new +strings. Near it also hung a couple of guns +belonging to Arne, an English angling-rod and +other rare things which the mother took down +and showed to Eli, who looked at them and +handled them. The room was without paint, +for Arne disliked it; nor was there any painting +in the room looking toward the Kamp +gorge, with the fresh green mountains directly +opposite and the blue ones in the background; +this latter room,—which was in the new part +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> +of the building, as was the entire half of the +house it was in,—was larger and prettier than +the first. The two smaller rooms in the wing +were painted, for there the mother was to live +when she was old, and Arne had brought a +wife into the house. They went into the kitchen, +the store-house, the bake-house, Eli spoke +not a single word; indeed, she viewed everything +about her as though from afar off; only +when anything was held out for her inspection +she touched it, but very daintily. Margit, +who had kept up an unbroken stream of +chatter the whole way, now led her into the +passage again; they must go and take a look +up-stairs.</p> + +<p>There also were well-arranged rooms, corresponding +with those below; but they were +new and had scarcely yet been occupied, except +one, which looked toward the gorge. In +these rooms were kept all sorts of articles +which were not in daily household use. Here +hung a whole lot of robes, together with other +bedclothes; the mother took hold of them, lifted +them up, and now and then insisted on having +Eli do the same. Meanwhile, it actually seemed +as though the young girl were gaining a little +courage, or else her pleasure in these things increased; +for to some of them she went back a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> +second time, asked questions about them, and +became more and more interested.</p> + +<p>Finally the mother said, "Now at last we +will go into Arne's own room;" and then they +went into the room overlooking the Kamp +gorge. Once more the awful din of the force +smote upon their ears, for the window was +open. They were up so high that they could +see the spray rising between the mountains, but +not the force itself, save in one spot farther on, +where a fragment had fallen from the cliff, just +where the torrent, with all its might, took its +final leap into the depths below. Fresh turf +covered the upward turned side of this fallen +piece of rock, a few fir cones had buried themselves +in it, and sent forth a growth of trees +with their roots in the crevices. The wind +had tugged at and shaken the trees, the force +had washed them so completely that there was +not a branch four ells from the roots; they +were crooked in the knees, their boughs +knotted and gnarled, yet they kept their footing, +and shot far up between the rocky walls. +This was the first thing Eli noticed from the +window; the next, the dazzling white snow-capped +peaks rising above the green mountains. +She turned her eyes away, let them wander +over the peaceful, fruitful fields, and finally +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> +about the room where she stood; the roar of +the force had hitherto prevented this.</p> + +<p>How calm and cheerful it was within, compared +with the scene without. She did not +look at any single article, because one blended +into the other, and most of them were new to +her, for Arne had centred his affections in this +room, and, simple as it was, it was artistic in +almost every particular. It seemed as though +the sound of his songs came floating toward +her, while she stood there, or as though he himself +smiled at her from every object. The first +thing her eyes singled out in the room, was a +broad, handsomely carved book-shelf. There +were so many books on it that she did not believe +the priest had more. A pretty cabinet +was the next thing she noticed. Here he kept +many rare things, his mother said. Here, too, +he had his money, she added, in a whisper. +They had twice had property left to them, she +told afterwards; they would have one more inheritance +besides, if things went as they should. +"But money is not the best thing in the world, +after all. Arne may get what is far better."</p> + +<p>There were many little trinkets in the room +which were interesting to examine, and Eli +looked at them all, as happy as a child.</p> + +<p>Margit patted her on the shoulder, saying, as +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> +she looked brightly into her eyes, "I have +never seen you before to-day, my child, but I +am already very fond of you." Before Eli had +time to feel embarrassed, Margit pulled at her +dress, and said, quite softly, "You see that little +red chest; there is something nice in that, +I can tell you."</p> + +<p>Eli looked at the chest: it was a small, square +one, which she at once longed to call her own.</p> + +<p>"Arne does not want me to know what is in +that chest," whispered the mother, "and he always +keeps the key hid." She walked up to +some clothes hanging on the wall, took down a +velvet waistcoat, felt in the watch-pocket, and +there found the key. "Come, now, you shall +see," she whispered.</p> + +<p>Eli did not think the mother was doing +quite right, but women are women,—and these +two now crossed softly over to the chest and +knelt in front of it. As the mother raised the +lid, so pleasant a perfume rose toward them that +Eli clapped her hands even before she had seen +anything. Spread over the top was a kerchief +which the mother took away. "Now you shall +see," she whispered, as she took up a fine, black +silk neckerchief, such a one as men do not wear. +"It looks just as if it were for a girl," said the +mother. "Here is another," she added.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> +Eli could not help taking hold of this; but +when the mother insisted upon trying it on her, +she declined, and hung her head. The mother +carefully folded them up again.</p> + +<p>"See!" she then said, taking up some pretty +silk ribbons; "everything here looks as if it +were meant for a girl."</p> + +<p>Eli grew red as fire, but not a sound escaped +her; her bosom heaved, her eyes had a shy +look, otherwise she stood immovable.</p> + +<p>"Here are more things still!" The mother +took hold of a beautiful black dress pattern, as +she spoke. "This is fine goods, I dare say," +said she, as she held it up to the light.</p> + +<p>Eli's hands trembled, when the mother asked +her to take hold of the cloth, she felt the blood +rushing to her head; she would gladly have +turned away, but this was not easy to do.</p> + +<p>"He has bought something every time he +has been to town," said the mother.</p> + +<p>Eli could scarcely control herself any longer; +her eyes roamed about the chest from one article +to another, and back again to the dress +goods; she, in fact, saw nothing else. But the +mother persisted, and the last thing she took +up was wrapped in paper; they slowly unwrapped +it; this became attractive again. Eli +grew eager; it proved to be a pair of small +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> +shoes. They had never seen anything like +these, either one of them; the mother wondered +how they could be made. Eli said nothing, +but when she went to touch the shoes, +all her fingers made marks on them; she felt so +ashamed that she came very near bursting into +tears. She longed most of all to take her +leave, but she dared not speak, nor dare she +do anything to make the mother look up.</p> + +<p>Margit was wholly occupied with her own +thoughts. "Does it not look just as if he had +bought them one by one for some one he had +not the courage to give them to?" said she, as +she put each article back in the place where +she had found it; she must have had practice +in so doing. "Now let us see what there is in +this little box," she added, softly opening it, as +though now they were going to find something +really choice.</p> + +<p>There lay a buckle, broad enough for a belt; +that was the first thing she showed Eli; the +next was two gold rings, tied together, and +then the girl caught sight of a velvet hymn-book +with silver clasps; further she could not look, +for on the silver of the book was engraved, in +small letters, "Eli, Baardsdatter Böen."<a name="FNanchor_29_29" id="FNanchor_29_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a></p> + +<p>Margit called her attention to something, got +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> +no reply, but saw that tear after tear was trickling +down on the silk kerchief, and spreading +over it. Then the mother laid down the brooch +she held in her hand, closed the little box, +turned round and clasped Eli in her arms. +The daughter wept on her shoulder, and the +mother wept over her, but neither of them +spoke a word.</p> + + +<p class="p2">A little while later, Eli was walking alone +in the garden: the mother had gone into the +kitchen to prepare something good for supper, +for now Arne would soon be home. By and +by, Margit came out into the garden to look +for her young friend, and found her sitting +writing in the sand. As the mother joined +her, Eli quickly smoothed the sand over what +she had written,—looked up and smiled; she +had been weeping.</p> + +<p>"There is nothing to cry about, my child," +said Margit, and gave her a pat.</p> + +<p>They saw a black object moving between the +bushes on the road. Eli stole into the house, +the mother followed her. Here a bounteous +repast was awaiting them: cream pudding, +smoked meat, and cakes; but Eli had no eyes +for these things; she crossed the floor to the +corner where the clock stood, sat down on a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> +chair close to the wall, and trembled if she +only heard a cat stir. The mother stood by +the table. Firm steps were heard on the flag-stones, +a short, light step in the passage, the +door was gently opened, and Arne came in.</p> + +<p>The first object his eyes lighted on was Eli +in the clock corner; he let go of the door and +stood still. This made Eli yet more embarrassed; +she got up, regretted at once having +done so, and turned towards the wall.</p> + +<p>"Are <i>you</i> here?" said Arne, softly, blushing +crimson.</p> + +<p>Eli shaded her eyes with one hand, as one +does when the sun shines too full in the face.</p> + +<p>"How—?" He could get no farther, but +he advanced a step or two.</p> + +<p>She put her hand down again, turned toward +him, then, bowing her head, she burst into +tears.</p> + +<p>"God bless you, Eli!" said he, and drew his +arm around her; she nestled close up to him. +He whispered something in her ear; she made +no reply, but clasped her hands about his neck.</p> + +<p>They stood thus for a long time, and not a +sound was heard save the roar of the force, +sending forth its eternal song. By and by +some one was heard weeping near the table. +Arne looked up: it was the mother.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> +"Now I am sure you will not leave me, +Arne," said she, approaching him. She wept +freely, but it did her good, she said.</p> + +<p class="p2">When Arne and Eli walked home together +in the bright summer evening, they did not talk +much about their new-born happiness. They let +Nature herself take the lead in the conversation,—so +quiet, bright, and grand, she seemed, +as she accompanied them. But it was on his +way back to Kampen from this their first +summer-night's walk, with his face turned toward +the rising sun, that he laid the foundations +of a poem, which he was then in no frame +of mind to construct, but which, later, when it +was finished, became for a while his daily +song. It ran thus:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I hoped to become something great one day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I thought it would be when I got away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each thought that my bosom entered<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On far-off journeys was centred.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A maiden then into my eyes did look;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My rovings soon lost their pleasure.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The loftiest aim my heart can brook<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is her to proclaim my treasure.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I hoped to become something great one day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I thought it would be when I got away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To meet with the great in learning<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Intensely my heart was yearning.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She taught me, she did, for she spoke a word:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'The best gift of God's bestowing<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Is not to be called a distinguished lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But ever a <i>man</i> to be growing.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I hoped to become something great one day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I thought it would be when I got away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My home seemed so cold, neglected,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I felt like a stranger suspected.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When her I discovered, then love I did see<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In every glance that found me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherever I turned friends waited for me,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And life became new around me."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>There came afterwards many a summer evening +walk, followed by many a song. One of +these must be recorded:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The cause of this all is beyond my knowing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No storm there has been and no floods have been flowing.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sparkling and glittering brook, it would seem,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has poured itself into the broader stream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which constantly growing seeks the ocean.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There is something we can from our lives not sever;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In need it is near and forsakes us never,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A power that draws, a loving breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which sadness, shyness, and all unrest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can gather in peace in a bridal present.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Could I but by spirits through life be attended,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As pure as the thought which has now me befriended!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ordering spirit of God it was.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He ruleth the world with sacred laws.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Toward goodness eternal I am progressing."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>But perhaps none of them better expressed +his fervent gratitude than the following:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The power that gave me my little song<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Has caused that as rain has been my sadness,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And that as sunshine has been my gladness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spring-time wants of my soul along.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Whate'er betided<br /></span> +<span class="i10">It did no harm;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">My song all guided<br /></span> +<span class="i10">To love so warm.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> +<span class="i0">"The power that gave me my little song<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Has given me friendship for all that's yearning.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For freedom's blessings my blood is burning;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The foe I am of every wrong.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">I sought my station,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Spite every storm,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And found salvation<br /></span> +<span class="i10">In love so warm.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The power that gave me my little song<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Must make me able to sing the others,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And now and then to make glad my brothers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom I may meet in the worldly throng,—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">For there was never<br /></span> +<span class="i10">A sweeter charm<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Than singing ever<br /></span> +<span class="i10">In love so warm."<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><br /></p> + +<hr class="r20" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span></p> +<h3>CHAPTER XVI.</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was late in the autumn; the harvesters +were at work housing the grain. The day was +clear, it had rained during the night; and in +the morning, therefore, the air was as mild as +in summer-time. It was a Saturday, and yet +many boats were making their way across +Black Water toward the church; the men, in +their shirt sleeves, were rowing; the women +sat in the stern, with light-colored kerchiefs on +their heads. A still greater number of boats +were steering over to Böen, in order to move +away from there later in grand procession, for +on this day Baard Böen gave a wedding for his +daughter Eli and Arne Nils' son Kampen.</p> + +<p>All the doors were open; people were going +in and out; children, with pieces of cake in +their hands, stood about the yard, afraid of +their new clothes, and looking shyly at one +another; an old woman sat upon the store-house +steps alone,—it was Margit Kampen. +She wore a large silver ring, with several small +rings fastened to the upper silver plate; now +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> +and then she looked at it; Nils had given it to +her the day of their wedding and she had never +worn it since.</p> + +<p>The man who presided at the feast, and the +two young groomsmen, the priest's son and +Eli's brother, went about in the two or three +rooms, offering refreshments to the wedding +guests as they arrived to be present on this +great occasion. Up-stairs in Eli's room were +the bride, the priest's wife, and Mathilde,—the +last-named had come from town for the +sole purpose of decking the bride; this the +girls had promised each other from their childhood. +Arne—wearing a broadcloth suit, with +close-fitting roundabout and with a collar that +Eli had made—stood in one of the down-stairs +rooms by the window on which Eli had written +"Arne."</p> + +<p>Outside in the passage two persons met as +they came each from some duty of the day. +One of them was on his way from the landing-place, +where he had been helping to put the +church boats in order; he wore a black broadcloth +roundabout, with blue wadmal trousers, +whose dye rubbed off, so that his hands were +blue; his white collar looked well with his fair +face and long light hair; his high forehead was +calm; about the mouth played a smile. It was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> +Baard. She whom he met in the passage was +just coming from the kitchen. She was dressed +for church, was tall and slender, and walked +with a firm though hurried step through the +door. When she met Baard she paused, and +her mouth drew up to one side. It was Birgit, +his wife. Each had something to say, but it +only found expression through both standing +still. Baard was the most embarrassed of the +two; he smiled more and more, but it was his +embarrassment that came to his aid, forcing +him to start up-stairs without further delay. +"Perhaps you will come too," he said, as he +passed, and Birgit followed him. Up-stairs in +the garret they were entirely alone; yet Baard +locked the door after them, and he was a long +time about it. When finally he turned, Birgit +stood by the window gazing out; it was in +order to avoid looking into the room. Baard +brought forth a small flask from his breast +pocket and a little silver cup. He wanted to +pour out some wine for his wife, but she would +not have any, although he assured her that it +was wine that had been sent from the parsonage. +Then he drank himself, but paused several +times to offer the cup to her. He corked +the flask, put both it and the cup away in his +breast-pocket again, and sat down on a chest. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> +It very evidently pained him that his wife +would not drink with him.</p> + +<p>He breathed heavily several times. Birgit +stood leaning with one hand against the window +frame. Baard had something to say, but +now it seemed even harder to speak than before.</p> + +<p>"Birgit!" said he, "I dare say you are thinking +of the same to-day that I am."</p> + +<p>Then he heard her move from one side of the +window to the other, and again she leaned her +head on her arm.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; you know who I mean. He it +was who parted us two. I thought it would +not go beyond the wedding, but it has lasted +much longer."</p> + +<p>He heard her sigh, he saw her again change +her place; but he did not see her face. He +himself was struggling so hard that he had to +wipe his face with his jacket sleeve. After a +long conflict he began again: "To-day a son +of his, well-educated and handsome, becomes +one of us, and to him we have given our only +daughter. Now, how would it be, Birgit, if we +two were to have our wedding to-day?"</p> + +<p>His voice trembled, and he cleared his throat. +Birgit, who had raised her head, now leaned it +on her arm again, but said nothing. Baard +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> +waited for some time; he heard her breathe, +but he got no answer,—and he had nothing +further to say himself either. He looked up +and grew very pale; for she did not even turn +her head. Then he rose.</p> + +<p>At the same moment there was a gentle +knock at the door, and a soft voice asked, "Are +you coming, mother?" It was Eli. There +was something in the tone that made Baard +involuntarily pause and glance at Birgit. Birgit +also raised her head; she looked towards +the door, and her eyes fell on Baard's pale face. +"Are you coming, mother?" was once more +asked from without.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am coming now!" said Birgit, in a +broken voice, as she firmly crossed the floor to +where Baard stood, gave him her hand, and +burst into the most passionate weeping. The +two hands met, they were both toil-worn now, +but they clasped as firmly as though they had +been seeking each other for twenty years. They +still clung together as they went toward the +door, and when a while later the bridal procession +was passing down to the landing-place, +and Arne gave his hand to Eli to take the lead, +Baard, seeing it, took his wife by the hand, +contrary to all custom, and followed them, +smiling contentedly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> +Behind them, Margit Kampen walked alone, +as was her wont.</p> + +<p>Baard was in high spirits that day; he sat +talking with the rowers. One of these who +kept looking up at the mountains remarked, +that it was strange that even such a steep rock +could be clad.</p> + +<p>"It must, whether it would or no," said +Baard, and his eyes wandered all along the +procession until they rested on the bridal pair +and his wife. "Who could have foretold this +twenty years ago?" said he.</p> + +<hr class="r65" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span></p> +<h1>EARLY TALES AND SKETCHES.</h1> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span></p> + +<h2>THE RAILROAD AND THE CHURCHYARD.</h2> +<hr class="r5" /> + +<h3><a id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">Knud Aakre</span> belonged to an old family in +the parish, where it had always been renowned +for its intelligence and its devotion to the public +welfare. His father had worked his way up +to the priesthood, but had died early, and as +the widow came from a peasant stock, the children +were brought up as peasants. Knud had, +therefore, received only the education afforded +by the public schools of his day; but his father's +library had early inspired him with a +love of knowledge. This was further stimulated +by his friend Henrik Wergeland, who +frequently visited him, sent him books, seeds, +and much valuable counsel. Following some +of the latter, Knud early founded a club, which +in the beginning had a very miscellaneous object, +for instance: "to give the members practice +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> +in debating and to study the constitution," +but which later was turned into a practical +agricultural society for the entire bailiwick. +According to Wergeland's advice, he also +founded a parish library, giving his father's +books as its first endowment. A suggestion +from the same quarter led him to start a Sunday-school +on his gard, for those who might wish to +learn writing, arithmetic, and history. All this +drew attention to him, so that he was elected +member of the parish board of supervisors, of +which he soon became chairman. In this capacity, +he took a deep interest in the schools, +which he brought into a remarkably good condition.</p> + +<p>Knud Aakre was a short man, brisk in his +movements, with small, restless eyes and very +disorderly hair. He had large lips, which were +in constant motion, and a row of splendid teeth +which always seemed to be working with them, +for they glistened while his words were snapped +out, crisp and clear, crackling like sparks from +a great fire.</p> + +<p>Foremost among the many he had helped to +gain an education was his neighbor Lars Högstad. +Lars was not much younger than Knud, +but he had developed more slowly. Knud +liked to talk about what he read and thought, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> +and he found in Lars, whose manner was quiet +and grave, a good listener, who by degrees +grew to be a man of excellent judgment. The +relations between them soon became such that +Knud was never willing to take any important +step without first consulting Lars Högstad, +and the matter on hand was thus likely +to gain some practical amendment. So Knud +drew his neighbor into the board of supervisors, +and gradually into everything in which he himself +took part. They always drove together +to the meetings of the board, where Lars never +spoke; but on the way back and forth Knud +learned his opinions. The two were looked +upon as inseparable.</p> + + +<p class="p2">One fine autumn day the board of supervisors +convened to consider, among other things, a +proposal from the bailiff to sell the parish grain +magazine and with the proceeds establish a +small savings-bank. Knud Aakre, the chairman, +would undoubtedly have approved this +measure had he relied on his unbiased judgment. +But he was prejudiced, partly because +the proposal came from the bailiff, whom Wergeland +did not like, and who was consequently +no favorite of Knud's either, and partly because +the grain magazine had been built by his +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> +influential paternal grandfather and by him +presented to the parish. Indeed, Knud was +rather inclined to view the proposition as a +personal insult, therefore he had not spoken of +it to any one, not even to Lars, and the latter +never entered on a topic that had not first been +set afloat by some one else.</p> + +<p>As chairman, Knud Aakre read the proposal +without adding any comments; but, as was his +wont, his eyes sought Lars, who usually sat or +stood a little aside, holding a straw between his +teeth,—he always had one when he took part +in a conversation; he either used it as a tooth-pick, +or he let it hang loosely in one corner of +his mouth, turning it more rapidly or more +slowly, according to the mood he was in. To +his surprise Knud saw that the straw was moving +very fast.</p> + +<p>"Do you think we should agree to this?" +he asked, quickly.</p> + +<p>Lars answered, dryly,—</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do."</p> + +<p>The whole board, feeling that Knud held +quite a different opinion, looked in astonishment +at Lars, but the latter said no more, nor was he +further questioned. Knud turned to another +matter, as though nothing had transpired. Not +until the close of the meeting did he resume the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> +subject, and then asked, with apparent indifference, +if it would not be well to send the proposal +back to the bailiff for further consideration, +as it certainly did not meet the views of the +people, for the parish valued the grain magazine. +No one replied. Knud asked whether he +should enter the resolution in the register, the +measure did not seem to be a wise one.</p> + +<p>"Against one vote," added Lars.</p> + +<p>"Against two," cried another, promptly.</p> + +<p>"Against three," came from a third; and before +the chairman could realize what was taking +place, a majority had voted in favor of the proposal.</p> + +<p>Knud was so surprised that he forgot to offer +any opposition. He recorded the proceedings +and read, in a low voice: "The measure is recommended,—adjourned."</p> + +<p>His face was fiery red as he rose and put up +the minute-book; but he determined to bring +forward the question once more at the meeting +of the representatives. Out in the yard, he put +his horse to the wagon, and Lars came and took +his seat at his side. They discussed various +topics on their way home, but not the one they +had nearest at heart.</p> + +<p>The next day Knud's wife sought Lars's wife +to inquire if there was anything wrong between +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> +the two men, for Knud had acted so strangely +when he came home. A short distance above +the gard buildings she met Lars's wife, who was +on her way to ask the same question, for her +husband, too, had been out of sorts the day before. +Lars's wife was a quiet, bashful person, +somewhat cowed, not by harsh words, but by +silence, for Lars never spoke to her unless she +had done something amiss, or he feared that +she might do wrong. Knud Aakre's wife, on the +other hand, talked more with her husband, and +particularly about the board, for lately it had +taken his thoughts, work, and affection away +from her and the children. She was as jealous +of it as of a woman; she wept at night over the +board and quarreled with her husband about +it during the day. But for that very reason +she could say nothing about it now when for +once he had returned home unhappy; for she +immediately became more wretched than he, +and for her life she could not rest until she had +discovered what was the matter. Consequently, +when Lars's wife could not give her the desired +information, she had to go out in the parish to +seek it. Here she obtained it, and of course +was at once of her husband's opinion; she found +Lars incomprehensible, not to say wicked. +When, however, she let her husband perceive +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> +this, she felt that as yet there was no breach +between Lars and him; that, on the contrary, +he clung warmly to him.</p> + +<p>The representatives met. Lars Högstad drove +over to Aakre in the morning; Knud came out +of the house and took his seat beside him. +They exchanged the usual greetings, spoke +perhaps rather less than was their wont on the +way, and not of the proposal. All the members +of the board were present; some, too, had +found their way in as spectators, which Knud +did not like, for it showed that there was a +stir in town about the matter. Lars was armed +with his straw, and he stood by the stove warming +himself, for the autumn was beginning to +be cold. The chairman read the proposal, in a +subdued, cautious manner, remarking when he +was through, that it must be remembered this +came from the bailiff, who was not apt to be +very felicitous in his propositions. The building, +it was well known, was a gift, and it is not +customary to part with gifts, least of all when +there is no need of doing so.</p> + +<p>Lars, who never before had spoken at the +meetings, now took the floor, to the astonishment +of all. His voice trembled, but whether +it did so out of regard for Knud, or from anxiety +lest his own cause should be lost, shall remain +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> +unsaid. But his arguments were good and +clear, and full of a logic and confidence which +had scarcely been heard at these meetings before. +And when he had gone over all the +ground, he added, in conclusion:—</p> + +<p>"What does it matter if the proposal does +come from the bailiff? This affects the question +as little as who erected the building, or in +what way it came into the public possession."</p> + +<p>Knud Aakre had grown very red in the face +(he blushed easily), and he shifted uneasily +from side to side, as was his wont when he was +impatient, but none the less did he exert himself +to be circumspect and to speak in a low +voice. There were savings-banks enough in the +country, he thought, and quite near at hand, +he might almost say <i>too</i> near. But if, after all, +it was deemed expedient to have one, there +were surely other ways of reaching it than those +leading over the gifts of the dead and the love +of the living. His voice was a little unsteady +when he said this, but quickly recovered as he +proceeded to speak of the grain magazine in itself, +and to show what its advantages were.</p> + +<p>Lars answered him thoroughly on the last +point, and then added,—</p> + +<p>"However, one thing and another lead me to +doubt whether this parish is managed for the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> +sake of the living or the dead; furthermore, +whether it is the love and hatred of a single +family which controls matters here, or the good +of the whole."</p> + +<p>Knud answered quickly,—</p> + +<p>"I do not know whether he who has just +spoken has been least benefited by this family,—both +by the dead and by him who now +lives."</p> + +<p>The first shot was aimed at the fact that +Knud's powerful grandfather had saved the +gard for Lars's paternal grandfather, when the +latter, on his part, was absent on a little excursion +to the penitentiary.</p> + +<p>The straw which long had been in brisk motion, +suddenly became still.</p> + +<p>"It is not my way to keep talking everywhere +about myself and my family," said Lars, +then turned again with calm superiority to the +subject under discussion, briefly reviewing all +the points with one definite object. Knud had +to admit to himself that he had never viewed +the matter from such a broad standpoint; involuntarily +he raised his eyes and looked at +Lars, who stood before him, tall, heavily built, +with clearness on the vigorous brow and in the +deep eyes. The lips were tightly compressed, +the straw still played in the corner of his +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> +mouth; all the surrounding lines indicated +vigor. He kept his hands behind him, and +stood rigidly erect, while his voice was as deep +and as hollow as if it proceeded from the +depths of the earth. For the first time in his +life Knud saw him as he was, and in his inmost +soul he was afraid of him; for this man must +always have been his superior. He had taken +all Knud himself knew and could impart; he +had rejected the tares and retained what had +produced this strong, hidden growth.</p> + +<p>He had been fostered and loved by Knud, +but had now become a giant who hated Knud +deeply, terribly. Knud could not explain to +himself why, but as he looked at Lars he instinctively +felt this to be so, and all else becoming +swallowed up in this thought he started +up, exclaiming,—</p> + +<p>"But Lars! Lars! what in Heaven's name +is the matter with you?" His agitation overcame +him,—"you, whom I have—you who +have"—</p> + +<p>Powerless to utter another word, he sat +down; but in his effort to gain the mastery +over the emotion he deemed Lars unworthy of +seeing, he brought his fist down with violence +on the table, while his eyes flashed beneath his +stiff, disorderly hair, which always hung over +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> +them. Lars acted as if he had not been interrupted, +and turning toward the others he asked +if this was to be the decisive blow; for if such +were the case there was no need for further remarks.</p> + +<p>This calmness was more than Knud could +endure.</p> + +<p>"What is it that has come among us?" cried +he. "We who have, until to-day, been actuated +by love and zeal alone, are now stirred up +against each other, as though goaded on by +some evil spirit," and he cast a fiery glance at +Lars, who replied,—</p> + +<p>"It must be you yourself who bring in this +spirit, Knud; for I have kept strictly to the +matter before us. But you never can see the +advantage of anything you do not want yourself; +now we shall learn what becomes of the +love and the zeal when once this matter is decided +as we wish."</p> + +<p>"Have I then illy served the interests of the +parish?"</p> + +<p>There was no reply. This grieved Knud, +and he continued,—</p> + +<p>"I really did persuade myself that I had +accomplished various things—various things +which have been of advantage to the parish; +but perhaps I have deceived myself."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> +He was again overcome by his feelings; for +his was a fiery nature, ever variable in its +moods, and the breach with Lars pained him +so deeply that he could scarcely control himself. +Lars answered,—</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know you appropriate the credit for +all that is done here, and if one should judge +by the amount of speaking at these meetings, +you certainly have accomplished the most."</p> + +<p>"Is that the way of it?" shouted Knud, +looking sharply at Lars. "It is you who deserve +the entire honor?"</p> + +<p>"Since we must finally talk about ourselves," +said Lars, "I am free to admit that every question +has been carefully considered by both of +us before it was introduced here."</p> + +<p>Here little Knud Aakre regained his ready +speech:—</p> + +<p>"Take the honor, in God's name; I am +quite able to live without it; there are other +things that are harder to lose!"</p> + +<p>Involuntarily Lars evaded his gaze, but said, +as he set the straw in very rapid motion,—</p> + +<p>"If I were to express <i>my</i> opinion, I should +say that there is not very much to take credit +for. No doubt the priest and the school-masters +are content with what has been done; but +certainly the common people say that up to the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> +present time the taxes of this parish have grown +heavier and heavier."</p> + +<p>Here arose a murmur in the crowd, and the +people grew very restless. Lars continued,—</p> + +<p>"Finally, to-day we have a matter brought +before us that might make the parish some little +amends for all it has paid out; this is perhaps +the reason why it encounters such opposition. +This is a question which concerns the +parish; it is for the welfare of all; it is our +duty to protect it from becoming a mere family +matter."</p> + +<p>People exchanged glances, and spoke in half-audible +tones; one of them remarked, as he +rose to go for his dinner-pail, that these were +the truest words he had heard in these meetings +for many years. Now all rose from their seats, +the conversation became general, and Knud +Aakre, who alone remained sitting, felt that all +was lost, fearfully lost, and made no further effort +to save it. The truth was, he possessed +something of the temperament attributed to +Frenchmen: he was very good at a first, second, +or even third attack, but poor at self-defense, +for his sensibilities overwhelmed his +thoughts.</p> + +<p>He was unable to comprehend this, nor could +he sit still any longer, and so resigning his +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> +place to the vice-chairman, he left. The others +could not refrain from a smile.</p> + +<p>He had come to the meeting in company with +Lars, but went home alone, although the way +was long. It was a cold autumn day, the forest +was jagged and bare, the meadow gray-yellow, +frost was beginning here and there to remain +on the road-side. Disappointment is a terrible +companion. Knud felt so small, so desolate, as +he walked along; but Lars appeared everywhere +before him, towering up to the sky, in +the dusk of the evening, like a giant. It vexed +him to think it was his own fault that this had +been the decisive battle; he had staked too much +on one single little issue. But surprise, pain, +anger, had mastered him; they still burned, +tingled, moaned, and stormed within him. He +heard the rumbling of cart-wheels behind him; +it was Lars driving his superb horse past him, +in a brisk trot, making the hard road resound +like distant thunder. Knud watched the broad-shouldered +form that sat erect in the cart, while +the horse, eager for home, sped onward, without +any effort on the part of Lars, who merely +gave him a loose rein. It was but a picture of +this man's power: he was driving onward to +the goal! Knud felt himself cast out of his +cart, to stagger on alone in the chill autumn air.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> +In his home at Aakre Knud's wife was waiting +for him. She knew that a battle was inevitable; +she had never in her life trusted Lars, and +now she was positively afraid of him. It had +been no comfort to her that he and her husband +had driven away together; it would not have +consoled her had they returned in the same way. +But darkness had fallen and they had not come. +She stood in the doorway, gazing out on the +road in front of the house; she walked down the +hill and back again, but no cart appeared.</p> + +<p>Finally she hears a rattling on the hard +road, her heart throbs as the wheels go round, +she clings to the casement, peering out into the +night; the cart draws near; only one is in it; +she recognizes Lars, who sees and recognizes +her, but drives past without stopping. Now she +became thoroughly alarmed. Her limbs gave +way under her, she tottered in and sank down +on the bench by the window. The children +gathered anxiously about her, the youngest one +asked for papa; she never spoke with them but +of him. He had such a noble disposition, and +this was what made her love him; but now his +heart was not with his family, it was engrossed +in all sorts of business which brought him only +unhappiness, and consequently they were all +unhappy.</p> + +<p>If only no misfortune had befallen him! +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> +Knud was so hot-tempered. Why had Lars +come home alone? Why did he not stop? +Should she run after him, or down the road +after her husband? She was in an agony of distress, +and the children pressed around her, asking +what was the matter. But this she would +not tell them, so rising she said they must eat +supper alone, then got everything ready and +helped them. All the while she kept glancing +out on the road. He did not come. She undressed +the children and put them to bed, and +the youngest repeated the evening prayer while +she bowed over him. She herself prayed with +such fervor in the words which the infant lips +so soothingly uttered that she did not heed the +steps outside.</p> + +<p>Knud stood upon the threshold, gazing at his +little company at prayer. The mother drew +herself up; all the children shouted: "Papa!" +but he seated himself at once, and said, softly:</p> + +<p>"Oh, let him say it once more!"</p> + +<p>The mother turned again to the bedside, that +he, meanwhile, should not see her face, for it +would have seemed like intruding on his grief +before he felt the need of revealing it. The +little one folded its hands over its breast, all +the rest did likewise, and it repeated,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> +<span class="i0">"I, a little child, pray Heaven<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That my sins may be forgiven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With time I'll larger, wiser grow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And my father and mother joy shall know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If only Thou, dearest, dearest Lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will help me to keep Thy precious word!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now to our Heavenly Father's merciful keeping<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our souls let us trust while we're sleeping."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>What peace now fell upon the room! Not a +minute had elapsed ere all the children were +sleeping as in the arms of God; but the mother +moved softly away and placed supper before +the father, who was, however, unable to eat. +But after he had gone to bed, he said,—</p> + +<p>"Henceforth I shall be at home."</p> + +<p class="p4b">And his wife lay at his side trembling with +joy which she dared not betray; and she +thanked God for all that had happened, for +whatever it might be it had resulted in good!</p> + +<hr class="r20" /> + +<h3><a id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">In</span> the course of a year Lars had become +chairman of the parish board of supervisors, president +of the savings-bank, and leading commissioner +in the court of reconciliation; in short, +he held every office to which his election had +been possible. In the board of supervisors for +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> +the amt (county) he was silent during the first +year, but the second year he created the same +sensation when he spoke as in the parish board; +for here, too, coming forward in opposition to +him who had previously been the guiding +power, he became victorious over the entire +rank and file and was from that time himself +the leader. From this his path led him to the +storthing (parliament), where his fame had +preceded him, and where consequently there +was no lack of challenges. But here, although +steady and firm, he always remained retiring. +He did not care for power except where he was +well known, nor would he endanger his leadership +at home by a possible defeat abroad.</p> + +<p>For he had a pleasant life at home. When +he stood by the church wall on Sundays, and +the congregation walked slowly past, saluting +him and stealing side glances at him, and one +after another paused in order to exchange a +few words with him,—then truly it might be +said that he controlled the entire parish with a +straw, for of course this hung in the corner of +his mouth.</p> + +<p>He deserved his honors. The road leading +to the church, he had opened; the new church +they were standing beside, he had built; this +and much more was the fruit of the savings-bank +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> +which he had founded and now managed +himself. For its resources were further made +fruitful, and the parish was constantly held up +as an example to all others of self-management +and good order.</p> + +<p>Knud Aakre had entirely withdrawn from +the field, although at first he attended a few +of the meetings of the board, because he had +promised himself that he would continue to offer +his services, even if it were not altogether +pleasing to his pride. In the first proposal +he had made, he became so greatly perplexed +by Lars, who insisted upon having it represented +in all its details, that, somewhat hurt, +he said: "When Columbus discovered America +he did not have it divided into parishes and +deaneries; this came gradually;" whereupon +Lars, in his reply, compared the discovery of +America with Knud's proposal,—it so happened +that this treated of stable improvements,—and +afterwards Knud was known by no other +name in the board than "Discovery of America." +So Knud thought that as his usefulness +had ceased, so too had his obligations to work, +and he refused to accept further reëlections.</p> + +<p>But he continued to be industrious; and in +order that he might still have a field for usefulness, +he enlarged his Sunday-school, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> +placed it, by means of small contributions from +the attendants, in communication with the +mission cause, of which he soon became the +centre and leader in his own and the surrounding +counties. Thereupon Lars Högstad remarked, +that if ever Knud undertook to collect +money for any purpose, he must know beforehand +that it was to do good thousands of miles +from home.</p> + +<p>There was, be it observed, no more strife +between them. To be sure, they no longer +associated with each other, but they bowed and +spoke when they met. Knud always felt a +little pain at the mere thought of Lars, but +strove to suppress it, and persuade himself +that matters could not have been otherwise. +At a large wedding-party, many years afterward, +where both were present and both were +in good spirits, Knud mounted a chair and proposed +a toast for the chairman of the parish +board, and the first representative their amt +had sent to the storthing! He spoke until +he became deeply moved, and, as usual, expressed +himself in an exceedingly handsome +way. Every one thought it was honorably +done, and Lars came up to him, and his gaze +was unsteady as he said that for much of what +he knew and was he was indebted to him.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> +At the next election of the board of supervisors +Knud was again made chairman!</p> + +<p>But had Lars Högstad foreseen what now +followed, he would certainly not have used his +influence for this. "Every event happens in its +own time," says an old proverb, and just as +Knud Aakre again entered the board, the best +men of the parish were threatened with ruin, +as the result of a speculation craze which had +long been raging, but which now first began to +demand its victims. It was said that Lars Högstad +was the cause of this great disaster, for he +had taught the parish to speculate. This penny +fever had originated in the parish board of +supervisors, for the board itself was the greatest +speculator of all. Every one down to the +laboring youth of twenty years desired in his +transactions to make ten dollars out of one; a +beginning of extreme avarice in the efforts to +hoard, was followed by an excessive extravagance, +and as all minds were bent only on money, +there had at the same time developed a +spirit of suspicion, of intolerance, of caviling, +which resulted in lawsuits and hatred. This +also was due to the example of the board, it +was said, for among the first things Lars had +done as chairman was to sue the venerable old +priest for holding doubtful titles. The priest +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> +had lost, but had also immediately resigned. +At that time some had praised, some censured +this suit; but it had proved a bad example. +Now came the consequences of Lars's management, +in the form of loss to every single man +of property in the parish, consequently public +opinion underwent a sharp change! The opposing +force, too, soon found a leader, for Knud +Aakre had come into the board, introduced +there by Lars himself!</p> + +<p>The struggle began forthwith. All those +youths to whom Knud in his time had given +instructions, were now grown up and were the +most enlightened men in the parish, thoroughly +at home in all its transactions and public +affairs. It was against these men that Lars +now had to contend, and they had borne him a +grudge from their childhood up. When of an +evening after one of these stormy proceedings +he stood on the steps in front of his house, gazing +over the parish, he could hear a sound as +of distant rumbling thunder rising toward him +from the large gards, now lying in the storm. +He knew that the day they met their ruin, +the savings-bank and himself would be overthrown, +and all his long efforts would culminate +in imprecations heaped on his head.</p> + +<p>In these days of conflict and despair, a party +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> +of railroad commissioners, who were to survey +the route for a new road, made their appearance +one evening at Högstad, the first gard at +the entrance to the parish. In the course of +conversation during the evening, Lars learned +that there was a question whether the road +should run through this valley or another parallel +to it.</p> + +<p>Like a flash of lightning it darted through +his mind that if he could succeed in having it +laid here, all property would rise in value, and +not only would he himself be saved but his fame +would be transmitted to the latest posterity! +He could not sleep that night, for his eyes were +dazzled by a glowing light, and sometimes he +could even hear the sound of the cars. The +next day he went himself with the commissioners +while they examined the locality; his +horse took them, and to his gard they returned. +The next day they drove through the other +valley; he was still with them, and he drove +them back again to his house. They found a +brilliant illumination at Högstad; the first men +of the parish had been invited to be present at +a magnificent party given in honor of the +commissioners; it lasted until morning. But +to no avail, for the nearer they came to a final +issue, the more plainly it appeared that the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> +road could not pass through this locality without +undue expense. The entrance to the valley +lay through a narrow gorge, and just as it +swung into the parish, the swollen river swung +in also, so that the railroad would either have +to take the same curve along the mountain that +the highway now made, thus running at a +needlessly high altitude and crossing the river +twice, or it would have to run straight forward, +and thus through the old, now unused +churchyard. Now the church had but recently +been removed, and it was not long since the +last burial had taken place there.</p> + +<p>If it only depended on a bit of old churchyard, +thought Lars, whether or not this great blessing +came into the parish, then he must use his +name and his energy for the removal of this +obstacle! He at once set forth on a visit to the +priest and the dean, and furthermore to the +diocese council; he talked and he negotiated, +for he was armed with all possible facts concerning +the immense advantage of the railroad +on one hand, and the sentiments of the parish +on the other, and actually succeeded in winning +all parties. It was promised him that by a removal +of part of the bodies to the new churchyard +the objections might be considered set +aside, and the royal permission obtained for the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> +churchyard to be taken for the line of railroad. +It was told him that nothing was now needed +but for him to set the question afloat in the +board of supervisors.</p> + +<p>The parish had grown as excited as himself: +the spirit of speculation which for many years +had been the only one prevailing in the parish, +now became madly jubilant. There was nothing +spoken or thought of but Lars's journey and its +possible results. When he returned with the +most magnificent promises, they made much of +him; songs were sung in his praise; indeed, if +at that time the largest gards had gone to destruction, +one after another, no one would have +paid the slightest attention to it: the speculation +craze had given way to the railroad craze.</p> + +<p>The board of supervisors assembled: there +was presented for approval a respectful petition, +that the old churchyard might be appropriated +as the route of the railroad. This was unanimously +adopted; there was even mention of +giving Lars a vote of thanks and a coffee-pot +in the form of a locomotive. But it was finally +thought best to wait until the whole plan was +carried into execution. The petition came back +from the diocese council, with a demand for a +list of all bodies that would have to be removed. +The priest made out such a list, but instead +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> +of sending it direct, he had his own reasons +for sending it through the parish board. One +of the members carried it to the next meeting. +Here it fell to the lot of Lars, as chairman, to +open the envelope and read the list.</p> + +<p>Now it chanced that the first body to be disinterred +was that of Lars's own grandfather! A +little shudder ran through the assembly! Lars +himself was startled, but nevertheless continued +to read. Then it furthermore chanced that the +second body was that of Knud Aakre's grandfather, +for these two men had died within a +short time of each other. Knud Aakre sprang +from his seat; Lars paused; every one looked +up in consternation, for old Knud Aakre had +been the benefactor of the parish and its best +beloved man, time out of mind. There was a +dead silence, which lasted for some minutes. At +last Lars cleared his throat and went on reading. +But the further he proceeded the worse +the matter grew; for the nearer they came to +their own time, the dearer were the dead. +When he had finished, Knud Aakre asked +quietly whether the others did not agree with +him in thinking that the air about them was +filled with spirits. It was just beginning to +grow dark in the room, and although they were +mature men and were sitting in numbers together, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> +they could not refrain from feeling +alarmed. Lars produced a bundle of matches +from his pocket and struck a light, dryly remarking, +that this was no more than they knew +beforehand.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is," said Knud pacing the floor, "it +is more than I knew before. Now I begin to +think that even railroads can be purchased too +dearly."</p> + +<p>These words sent a quiver through the audience, +and observing that they had better +further consider the matter, Knud made a motion +to that effect.</p> + +<p>"In the excitement which had prevailed," he +said, "the benefit likely to be derived from the +road had been overestimated. Even if the railroad +did not pass through this parish, there +would have to be stations at both ends of the +valley; true, it would always be a little more +troublesome to drive to them than to a station +right in our midst; yet the difficulty would not +be so very great that it would be necessary because +of it to violate the repose of the dead."</p> + +<p>Knud was one of those who when his +thoughts were once in rapid motion could present +the most convincing arguments; a moment +before what he now said had not occurred +to his mind, nevertheless it struck home to all. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> +Lars felt the danger of his position, and concluding +that it was best to be cautious, apparently +acquiesced in Knud's proposition to +reconsider. Such emotions are always worse +in the beginning, he thought; it is wisest to +temporize with them.</p> + +<p>But he had miscalculated. In ever increasing +waves the dread of touching the dead of +their own families swept over the inhabitants +of the parish; what none of them had thought +of as long as the matter existed merely in the +abstract, now became a serious question when it +was brought home to themselves. The women +especially were excited, and the road near the +court-house was black with people the day of +the next meeting. It was a warm summer day, +the windows were removed, and there were as +many without the house as within. All felt +that a great battle was about to be fought.</p> + +<p>Lars came driving up with his handsome +horse, and was greeted by all; he looked calmly +and confidently around, not seeming to be surprised +at anything. He took a seat near the +window, found his straw, and a suspicion of a +smile played over his keen face as he saw Knud +Aakre rise to his feet to act as spokesman for +all the dead in the old Högstad churchyard.</p> + +<p>But Knud Aakre did not begin with the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> +churchyard. He began with an accurate exposition +of how greatly the profits likely to accrue +from having the railroad run through the parish +had been overestimated in all this turmoil. +He had positive proofs for every statement he +made, for he had calculated the distance of each +gard from the nearest station, and finally he +asked,—</p> + +<p>"Why has there been so much ado about +this railroad, if not in behalf of the parish?"</p> + +<p>This he could easily explain to them. There +were those who had occasioned so great a disturbance +that a still greater one was required to +conceal it. Moreover, there were those who in +the first outburst of excitement could sell their +gards and belongings to strangers who were +foolish enough to purchase. It was a shameful +speculation which not only the living but the +dead must serve to promote!</p> + +<p>The effect of his address was very considerable. +But Lars had once for all resolved to +preserve his composure let come what would. +He replied, therefore, with a smile, that he had +been under the impression that Knud himself +was eager for the railroad, and certainly no one +would accuse him of having any knowledge of +speculation. (Here followed a little laugh.) +Knud had not evinced the slightest objection to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> +the removal of the bodies of common people for +the sake of the railroad; but when his own +grandfather's body was in question then it suddenly +affected the welfare of the whole community! +He said no more, but looked with a +faint smile at Knud, as did also several others. +Meanwhile, Knud Aakre surprised both him +and them by replying:—</p> + +<p>"I confess it; I did not comprehend the +matter until it touched my own family feelings; +it is possible that this may be a shame, +but it would have been a far greater one not +to have realized it at last—as is the case with +Lars! Never," he concluded, "could this raillery +have been more out of place; for to people +with common decency the whole affair is +absolutely revolting."</p> + +<p>"This feeling is something that has come up +quite recently," replied Lars, "we may therefore +hope that it will soon pass over again. +May it not perhaps help the matter a little to +think what the priest, dean, diocese council, engineers, +and government will all say if we first +unanimously set the ball in motion, then come +and beg to have it stopped? If we first are +jubilant and sing songs, then weep and deliver +funeral orations? If they do not say that we +have gone mad in this parish, they must at all +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> +events say that we have acted rather strangely +of late."</p> + +<p>"Yes, God knows, they may well think so!" +replied Knud. "We have, indeed, acted very +strangely of late, and it is high time for us to +mend our ways. Things have come to a serious +pass when we can each disinter his own grandfather +to make way for a railroad; when we +can disturb the resting-place of the dead in +order that our own burdens may the more +easily be carried. For is not this rooting in our +churchyard in order to make it yield us food +the same thing? What is buried there in the +name of Jesus, we take up in Moloch's name—this +is but little better than eating the bones +of our ancestors."</p> + +<p>"Such is the course of nature," said Lars, +dryly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, of plants and of animals."</p> + +<p>"And are not we animals?"</p> + +<p>"We are, but also the children of the living +God, who have buried our dead in faith in +Him: it is He who shall rouse them and not +we."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you are talking idly! Are we not +obliged to have the graves dug up at any rate, +when their turn comes? What harm is there +in having it happen a few years earlier?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> +"I will tell you. What was born of them +still draws the breath of life; what they built +up yet remains; what they loved, taught, and +suffered for, lives about us and within us; and +should we not allow them to rest in peace?"</p> + +<p>"Your warmth shows me that you are thinking +of your own grandfather again," replied +Lars, "and I must say it seems to me high time +the parish should be rid of <i>him</i>. He monopolized +too much space while he lived; and so it +is scarcely worth while to have him lie in the +way now that he is dead. Should his corpse +prevent a blessing to this parish that would extend +through a hundred generations, we may +truly say that of all who have been born here, +<i>he</i> has done us the greatest harm."</p> + +<p>Knud Aakre tossed back his disorderly hair, +his eyes flashed, his whole person looked like a +bent steel spring.</p> + +<p>"How much of a blessing what you are +speaking about may be, I have already shown. +It has the same character as all the other blessings +with which you have supplied the parish, +namely, a doubtful one. It is true, you have +provided us with a new church, but you have +also filled it with a new spirit,—and it is not +that of love. True, you have furnished us with +new roads, but also with new roads to destruction, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> +as is now plainly manifest in the misfortunes +of many. True, you have diminished +our public taxes, but you have increased our +private ones; lawsuits, promissory notes, and +bankruptcies are no fruitful gifts to a community. +And <i>you</i> dare dishonor in his grave the +man whom the whole parish blesses? You dare +assert that he lies in our way; aye, no doubt +he does lie in your way, this is plain enough +now, for his grave will be the cause of your +downfall! The spirit which has reigned over +you, and until to-day over us all, was not born +to rule but to enter into servitude. The churchyard +will surely be allowed to remain in peace; +but to-day it shall have one grave added to +it, namely, that of your popularity which is now +to be buried there."</p> + +<p>Lars Högstad rose, white as a sheet; his lips +parted, but he was unable to utter a word, and +the straw fell. After three or four vain efforts +to find it again and recover his powers of speech, +he burst forth like a volcano with,—</p> + +<p>"And so these are the thanks I get for all +my toil and drudgery! If such a woman-preacher +is to be allowed to rule—why, then, +may the devil be your chairman if ever I set +my foot here again! I have kept things together +until this day, and after me your trash +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> +will fall into a thousand pieces, but let it tumble +down now—here is the register!" And he +flung it on the table. "Shame on such an +assembly of old women and brats!" Here he +struck the table with great violence. "Shame +on the whole parish that it can see a man rewarded +as I am now."</p> + +<p>He brought down his fist once more with +such force that the great court-house table +shook, and the inkstand with its entire contents +tumbled to the floor, marking for all +future generations the spot where Lars Högstad +fell in spite of all his prudence, his long rule, +and his patience.</p> + +<p>He rushed to the door and in a few moments +had left the place. The entire assembly remained +motionless; for the might of his voice +and of his wrath had frightened them, until +Knud Aakre, remembering the taunt he had +received at the time of <i>his</i> fall, with beaming +countenance and imitating Lars's voice, exclaimed:—</p> + +<p>"Is <i>this</i> to be the decisive blow in the +matter?"</p> + +<p class="p4b">The whole assembly burst into peals of merriment +at these words! The solemn meeting +ended in laughter, talk, and high glee; only a +few left the place, those remaining behind +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> +called for drink to add to their food, and a night +of thunder succeeded a day of lightning. Every +one felt as happy and independent as of yore, +ere the commanding spirit of Lars had cowed +their souls into dumb obedience. They drank +toasts to their freedom; they sang, indeed, +finally they danced, Knud Aakre and the vice-chairman +taking the lead and all the rest following, +while boys and girls joined in, and +the young folks outside shouted "Hurrah!" for +such a jollification they had never before seen!</p> + +<hr class="r20" /> + +<h3><a id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Lars</span> moved about in the large rooms at Högstad, +without speaking a word. His wife, who +loved him, but always in fear and trembling, +dared not come into his presence. The management +of the gard and of the house might be +carried on as best it could, while on the other +hand there kept growing a multitude of letters, +which passed back and forth between Högstad +and the parish, and Högstad and the post-office; +for Lars had claims against the parish board, +and these not being satisfied he prosecuted; +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> +against the savings-bank, which were also unsatisfied, +and so resulted in another suit. He +took offense at expressions in the letters he +received and went to law again, now against +the chairman of the parish board, now against +the president of the savings-bank. At the same +time there were dreadful articles in the newspapers, +which report attributed to him, and +which were the cause of great dissension in +the parish, inciting neighbor against neighbor. +Sometimes he was absent whole weeks, no one +knew where, and when he returned he lived as +secluded as before. At church he had not been +seen after the great scene at the representatives' +meeting.</p> + +<p>Then one Saturday evening the priest brought +tidings that the railroad was to run through +the parish after all, and across the old churchyard! +It struck like lightning into every +home. The unanimous opposition of the parish +board had been in vain, Lars Högstad's +influence had been stronger. This was the +meaning of his journeys, this was his work! +Involuntary admiration of the man and his +stubborn persistence tended to suppress the +dissatisfaction of the people at their own defeat, +and the more they discussed the matter the +more reconciled they became; for a fact accomplished +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> +always contains within itself reasons +why it is so, which gradually force themselves +upon us after there is no longer possibility +of change. The people assembled about the +church the next day, and they could not help +laughing as they met one another. And just +as the whole congregation, young and old, men +and women, aye, even children, were all talking +about Lars Högstad, his ability, his rigorous +will, his immense influence, he himself with +his whole household came driving up in four +conveyances, one after the other. It was two +years since his last visit there! He alighted +and passed through the crowd, while all, as by +one impulse, unhesitatingly greeted him, but he +did not deign to bestow a glance on either side, +nor to return a single salutation. His little +wife, pale as death, followed him. Inside of +the church, the astonishment grew to such a +pitch that as one after another caught sight of +him they stopped singing and only stared at +him. Knud Aakre, who sat in his pew in front +of Lars, noticed that there was something the +matter, and as he perceived nothing remarkable +in front of him, he turned round. He saw Lars +bowed over his hymn-book, searching for the +place.</p> + +<p>He had not seen him since that evening at +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> +the meeting, and such a complete change he +had not believed possible. For this was no +victor! The thin, soft hair was thinner than +ever, the face was haggard and emaciated, the +eyes hollow and bloodshot, the giant neck had +dwindled into wrinkles and cords. Knud comprehended +at a glance what this man had gone +through; he was seized with a feeling of strong +sympathy, indeed, he felt something of the old +love stirring within his breast. He prayed for +Lars to his God, and made a resolute vow that +he would seek him after service; but Lars had +started on ahead. Knud resolved to call on +him that evening. His wife, however, held him +back.</p> + +<p>"Lars is one of those," said she, "who can +scarcely bear a debt of gratitude: keep away +from him until he has an opportunity to do +you some favor, and then perhaps he will come +to you!"</p> + +<p>But he did not come. He appeared now and +then at church, but nowhere else, and he associated +with no one. On the other hand, he +now devoted himself to his gard and other business +with the passionate zeal of one who had +determined to make amends in one year for the +neglect of many; and, indeed, there were those +who said that this was imperative.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> +Railroad operations in the valley began very +soon. As the line was to go directly past Lars's +gard, he tore down the portion of his house +that faced the road, in order to build a large +and handsome balcony, for he was determined +that his gard should attract attention. This +work was just being done when the temporary +rails for the conveyance of gravel and timber +to the road were laid and a small locomotive +was sent to the spot. It was a beautiful autumn +evening that the first gravel car was to +pass over the road. Lars stood on his front +steps, to hear the first signal and to see the first +column of smoke; all the people of the gard +were gathered about him. He gazed over the +parish, illumined by the setting sun, and he +felt that he would be remembered as long as a +train should come roaring through this fertile +valley. A sense of forgiveness glided into his +soul. He looked toward the churchyard, a part +of which still remained, with crosses bowed +down to the ground, but a part of it was now +the railroad. He was just endeavoring to +define his own feeling when the first signal +whistled, and presently the train came slowly +working its way along, attended by a cloud of +smoke, mingled with sparks, for the locomotive +was fed with pine wood. The wind blew toward +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> +the house so that those standing without +were soon enveloped in a dense smoke, but as +this cleared away Lars saw the train working +its way down through the valley like a strong +will.</p> + +<p>He was content, and entered his house like +one who has come from a long day's work. +The image of his grandfather stood before him +at this moment. This grandfather had raised +the family from poverty to prosperity; true, a +portion of his honor as a citizen was consumed +in the act, but he had advanced nevertheless! +His faults were the prevailing ones of his time: +they were based on the uncertain boundary +lines of the moral conceptions of his day. +Every age has its uncertain moral distinctions +and its victims to the endeavor to define them +properly.</p> + +<p>Honor be to him in his grave, for he had suffered +and toiled! Peace be with him! It must +be good to rest in the end. But he was not +allowed to rest because of his grandson's vast +ambition; his ashes were thrown up with the +stones and the gravel. Nonsense! he would +only smile that his grandson's work passed over +his head.</p> + +<p>Amid thoughts like these Lars had undressed +and gone to bed. Once more his grandfather's +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> +image glided before him. It was sterner now +than the first time. Weariness enfeebles us, +and Lars began to reproach himself. But he +defended himself also. What did his grandfather +want? Surely he ought to be satisfied +now, for the family honor was proclaimed in +loud tones above his grave. Who else had such +a monument? And yet what is this? These +two monstrous eyes of fire and this hissing, +roaring sound belong no longer to the locomotive, +for they turn away from the railroad +track. And from the churchyard straight toward +the house comes an immense procession. +The eyes of fire are his grandfather's, and the +long line of followers are all the dead. The +train advances steadily toward the gard, roaring, +crackling, flashing. The windows blaze +in the reflection of the dead men's eyes. Lars +made a mighty effort to control himself, for +this was a dream, unquestionably but a dream. +Only wait until I am awake! There, now I am +awake. Come on, poor ghosts!</p> + +<p>And lo! they really did come from the +churchyard, overthrowing road, rails, locomotive +and train, so that these fell with a mighty +crash to the ground, and the green sod appeared +in their stead, dotted with graves and +crosses as before. Like mighty champions they +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> +advanced, and the hymn, "Let the dead repose +in peace!" preceded them. Lars knew it; +for through all these years it had been sighing +within his soul, and now it had become his requiem; +for this was death and death's visions. +The cold sweat started out over his whole body, +for nearer and nearer—and behold, on the +window pane! there they are now, and he +heard some one speak his name. Overpowered +with dread he struggled to scream; for he was +being strangled, a cold hand was clinching his +throat and he regained his voice in an agonized: +"Help me!" and awoke. The window +had been broken in from the outside; the +pieces flew all about his head. He sprang up. +A man stood at the window, surrounded by +smoke and flames.</p> + +<p>"The gard is on fire, Lars! We will help +you out!"</p> + +<p>It was Knud Aakre.</p> + +<p>When Lars regained his consciousness, he +was lying outside in a bleak wind, which chilled +his limbs. There was not a soul with him; he +saw the flaming gard to the left; around him +his cattle were grazing and making their voices +heard; the sheep were huddled together in a +frightened flock; the household goods were +scattered about, and when he looked again he +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> +saw some one sitting on a knoll close by, weeping. +It was his wife. He called her by name. +She started.</p> + +<p>"The Lord Jesus be praised that you are +alive!" cried she, coming forward and seating +herself, or rather throwing herself down in +front of him. "O God! O God! We surely +have had enough of this railroad now!"</p> + +<p>"The railroad?" asked he, but ere the words +had escaped his lips, a clear comprehension of +the case passed like a shudder over him; for, +of course, sparks from the locomotive that had +fallen among the shavings of the new side wall +had been the cause of the fire. Lars sat there +brooding in silence; his wife, not daring to utter +another word, began to search for his clothes; +for what she had spread over him, as he lay +senseless, had fallen off. He accepted her attentions +in silence, but as she knelt before him to +cover his feet, he laid his hand on her head. +Falling forward she buried her face in his lap +and wept aloud. There were many who eyed +her curiously. But Lars understood her and +said,—</p> + +<p>"You are the only friend I have."</p> + +<p>Even though it had cost the gard to hear +these words, it mattered not to her; she felt so +happy that she gained courage, and rising up +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> +and looking humbly into her husband's face, +she said,—</p> + +<p>"Because there is no one else who understands +you."</p> + +<p>Then a hard heart melted, and tears rolled +down the man's cheeks as he clung to his wife's +hand.</p> + +<p>Now he talked to her as to his own soul. +Now too she opened to him her mind. They +also talked about how all this had happened, or +rather he listened while she told about it. +Knud Aakre had been the first to see the fire, +had roused his people, sent the girls out over +his parish, while he had hastened himself with +men and horses to the scene of the conflagration, +where all were sleeping. He had engineered +the extinguishing of the flames and the +rescuing of the household goods, and had himself +dragged Lars from the burning room, and +carried him to the left side of the house from +where the wind was blowing and had laid him +out here in the churchyard.</p> + +<p>And while they were talking of this, some +one came driving rapidly up the road and +turned into the churchyard, where he alighted. +It was Knud, who had been home after his +church-cart,—the one in which they had so +many times ridden together to and from the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> +meetings of the parish board. Now he requested +Lars to get in and ride home with him. +They grasped each other by the hand, the one +sitting, the other standing.</p> + +<p>"Come with me now," said Knud.</p> + +<p>Without a word of reply, Lars rose. Side by +side they walked to the cart. Lars was helped +in; Knud sat down beside him. What they +talked about as they drove along, or afterwards +in the little chamber at Aakre, where they remained +together until late in the morning, has +never been known. But from that day they +were inseparable as before.</p> + +<p class="p4b">As soon as misfortune overtakes a man, +every one learns what he is worth. And so the +parish undertook to rebuild Lars Högstad's +houses, and to make them larger and handsomer +than any others in the valley. He was +reëlected chairman, but with Knud Aakre at +his side; he never again failed to take counsel +of Knud's intelligence and heart—and from +that day forth nothing went to ruin.</p> + +<hr class="r20" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span></p> + +<h2>THROND.</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> was once a man named Alf, who had +raised great expectations among his fellow-parishioners +because he excelled most of them both +in the work he accomplished and in the advice +he gave. Now when this man was thirty years +old, he went to live up the mountain and cleared +a piece of land for farming, about fourteen +miles from any settlement. Many people wondered +how he could endure thus depending on +himself for companionship, but they were still +more astonished when, a few years later, a +young girl from the valley, and one, too, who +had been the gayest of the gay at all the social +gatherings and dances of the parish, was willing +to share his solitude.</p> + +<p>This couple were called "the people in the +wood," and the man was known by the name +"Alf in the wood." People viewed him with +inquisitive eyes when they met him at church +or at work, because they did not understand +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> +him; but neither did he take the trouble to +give them any explanation of his conduct. His +wife was only seen in the parish twice, and on +one of these occasions it was to present a child +for baptism.</p> + +<p>This child was a son, and he was called +Thrond. When he grew larger his parents +often talked about needing help, and as they +could not afford to take a full-grown servant, +they hired what they called "a half:" they +brought into their house a girl of fourteen, who +took care of the boy while the father and +mother were busy in the field.</p> + +<p>This girl was not the brightest person in the +world, and the boy soon observed that his mother's +words were easy to comprehend, but that it +was hard to get at the meaning of what Ragnhild +said. He never talked much with his +father, and he was rather afraid of him, for the +house had to be kept very quiet when he was +at home.</p> + +<p>One Christmas Eve—they were burning +two candles on the table, and the father was +drinking from a white flask—the father took +the boy up in his arms and set him on his +lap, looked him sternly in the eyes and exclaimed,—</p> + +<p>"Ugh, boy!" Then he added more gently: +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> +"Why, you are not so much afraid. Would you +have the courage to listen to a story?"</p> + +<p>The boy made no reply, but he looked full in +his father's face. His father then told him +about a man from Vaage, whose name was +Blessom. This man was in Copenhagen for +the purpose of getting the king's verdict in a +law-suit he was engaged in, and he was detained +so long that Christmas Eve overtook him there. +Blessom was greatly annoyed at this, and as he +was sauntering about the streets fancying himself +at home, he saw a very large man, in a +white, short coat, walking in front of him.</p> + +<p>"How fast you are walking!" said Blessom.</p> + +<p>"I have a long distance to go in order to get +home this evening," replied the man.</p> + +<p>"Where are you going?"</p> + +<p>"To Vaage," answered the man, and walked +on.</p> + +<p>"Why, that is very nice," said Blessom, +"for that is where I was going, too."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, you may ride with me, if you +will stand on the runners of my sledge," answered +the man, and turned into a side street +where his horse was standing.</p> + +<p>He mounted his seat and looked over his +shoulder at Blessom, who was just getting on +the runners.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> +"You had better hold fast," said the stranger.</p> + +<p>Blessom did as he was told, and it was well +he did, for their journey was evidently not by +land.</p> + +<p>"It seems to me that you are driving on the +water," cried Blessom.</p> + +<p>"I am," said the man, and the spray whirled +about them.</p> + +<p>But after a while it seemed to Blessom their +course no longer lay on the water.</p> + +<p>"It seems to me we are moving through the +air," said he.</p> + +<p>"Yes, so we are," replied the stranger.</p> + +<p>But when they had gone still farther, Blessom +thought he recognized the parish they were +driving through.</p> + +<p>"Is not this Vaage?" cried he.</p> + +<p>"Yes, now we are there," replied the stranger, +and it seemed to Blessom that they had +gone pretty fast.</p> + +<p>"Thank you for the good ride," said he.</p> + +<p>"Thanks to yourself," replied the man, and +added, as he whipped up his horse, "Now you +had better not look after me."</p> + +<p>"No, indeed," thought Blessom, and started +over the hills for home.</p> + +<p>But just then so loud and terrible a crash +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> +was heard behind him that it seemed as if the +whole mountain must be tumbling down, and +a bright light was shed over the surrounding +landscape; he looked round and beheld the +stranger in the white coat driving through the +crackling flames into the open mountain, which +was yawning wide to receive him, like some +huge gate. Blessom felt somewhat strange in +regard to his traveling companion; and thought +he would look in another direction; but as he +had turned his head so it remained, and never +more could Blessom get it straight again.</p> + +<p>The boy had never heard anything to equal +this in all his life. He dared not ask his father +for more, but early the next morning he asked +his mother if she knew any stories. Yes, of +course she did; but hers were chiefly about +princesses who were in captivity for seven +years, until the right prince came along. The +boy believed that everything he heard or read +about took place close around him.</p> + +<p>He was about eight years old when the first +stranger entered their door one winter evening. +He had black hair, and this was something +Thrond had never seen before. The stranger +saluted them with a short "Good-evening!" +and came forward. Thrond grew frightened +and sat down on a cricket by the hearth. The +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> +mother asked the man to take a seat on the +bench along the wall; he did so, and then the +mother could examine his face more closely.</p> + +<p>"Dear me! is not this Knud the fiddler?" +cried she.</p> + +<p>"Yes, to be sure it is. It has been a long +time since I played at your wedding."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; it is quite a while now. Have +you been on a long journey?"</p> + +<p>"I have been playing for Christmas, on the +other side of the mountain. But half way +down the slope I began to feel very badly, and +I was obliged to come in here to rest."</p> + +<p>The mother brought forward food for him; +he sat down to the table, but did not say "in +the name of Jesus," as the boy had been accustomed +to hear. When he had finished eating, +he got up from the table, and said,—</p> + +<p>"Now I feel very comfortable; let me rest a +little while."</p> + +<p>And he was allowed to rest on Thrond's bed.</p> + +<p>For Thrond a bed was made on the floor. +As the boy lay there, he felt cold on the side +that was turned away from the fire, and that +was the left side. He discovered that it was +because this side was exposed to the chill night +air; for he was lying out in the wood. How +came he in the wood? He got up and looked +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> +about him, and saw that there was fire burning +a long distance off, and that he was actually +alone in the wood. He longed to go home to +the fire; but could not stir from the spot. +Then a great fear overcame him; for wild +beasts might be roaming about, trolls and ghosts +might appear to him; he must get home to the +fire; but he could not stir from the spot. Then +his terror grew, he strove with all his might to +gain self-control, and was at last able to cry, +"Mother," and then he awoke.</p> + +<p>"Dear child, you have had bad dreams," +said she, and took him up.</p> + +<p>A shudder ran through him, and he glanced +round. The stranger was gone, and he dared +not inquire after him.</p> + +<p>His mother appeared in her black dress, and +started for the parish. She came home with +two new strangers, who also had black hair +and who wore flat caps. They did not say "in +the name of Jesus," when they ate, and they +talked in low tones with the father. Afterward +the latter and they went into the barn, +and came out again with a large box, which +the men carried between them. They placed it +on a sled, and said farewell. Then the mother +said:—</p> + +<p>"Wait a little, and take with you the smaller +box he brought here with him."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> +And she went in to get it. But one of the +men said,—</p> + +<p>"<i>He</i> can have that," and he pointed at +Thrond.</p> + +<p>"Use it as well as <i>he</i> who is now lying <i>here</i>," +added the other stranger, pointing at the large +box.</p> + +<p>Then they both laughed and went on. +Thrond looked at the little box which thus +came into his possession.</p> + +<p>"What is there in it?" asked he.</p> + +<p>"Carry it in and find out," said the mother.</p> + +<p>He did as he was told, but his mother helped +him open it. Then a great joy lighted up his +face; for he saw something very light and fine +lying there.</p> + +<p>"Take it up," said his mother.</p> + +<p>He put just one finger down on it, but quickly +drew it back again, in great alarm.</p> + +<p>"It cries," said he.</p> + +<p>"Have courage," said his mother, and he +grasped it with his whole hand and drew it +forth from the box.</p> + +<p>He weighed it and turned it round, he +laughed and felt of it.</p> + +<p>"Dear me! what is it?" asked he, for it +was as light as a toy.</p> + +<p>"It is a fiddle."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> +This was the way that Thrond Alfson got +his first violin.</p> + +<p>The father could play a little, and he taught +the boy how to handle the instrument; the +mother could sing the tunes she remembered +from her dancing days, and these the boy +learned, but soon began to make new ones for +himself. He played all the time he was not at +his books; he played until his father once told +him he was fading away before his eyes. All +the boy had read and heard until that time was +put into the fiddle. The tender, delicate string +was his mother; the one that lay close beside +it, and always accompanied his mother, was +Ragnhild. The coarse string, which he seldom +ventured to play on, was his father. But of the +last solemn string he was half afraid, and he +gave no name to it. When he played a wrong +note on the E string, it was the cat; but when +he took a wrong note on his father's string, it +was the ox. The bow was Blessom, who drove +from Copenhagen to Vaage in one night. And +every tune he played represented something. +The one containing the long solemn tones was +his mother in her black dress. The one that +jerked and skipped was like Moses, who stuttered +and smote the rock with his staff. The +one that had to be played quietly, with the bow +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> +moving lightly over the strings, was the hulder +in yonder fog, calling together her cattle, where +no one but herself could see.</p> + +<p>But the music wafted him onward over the +mountains, and a great yearning took possession +of his soul. One day when his father told +about a little boy who had been playing at the +fair and who had earned a great deal of money, +Thrond waited for his mother in the kitchen +and asked her softly if he could not go to the +fair and play for people.</p> + +<p>"Who ever heard of such a thing!" said his +mother; but she immediately spoke to his father +about it.</p> + +<p>"He will get out into the world soon enough," +answered the father; and he spoke in such a +way that the mother did not ask again.</p> + +<p>Shortly after this, the father and mother +were talking at table about some new settlers +who had recently moved up on the mountain +and were about to be married. They had no +fiddler for the wedding, the father said.</p> + +<p>"Could not I be the fiddler?" whispered the +boy, when he was alone in the kitchen once +more with his mother.</p> + +<p>"What, a little boy like you?" said she; but +she went out to the barn where his father was +and told him about it.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> +"He has never been in the parish," she +added, "he has never seen a church."</p> + +<p>"I should not think you would ask about +such things," said Alf; but neither did he say +anything more, and so the mother thought she +had permission. Consequently she went over +to the new settlers and offered the boy's services.</p> + +<p>"The way he plays," said she, "no little +boy has ever played before;" and the boy +was to be allowed to come.</p> + +<p>What joy there was at home! Thrond +played from morning until evening and practiced +new tunes; at night he dreamed about +them: they bore him far over the hills, away +to foreign lands, as though he were afloat on +sailing clouds. His mother made a new suit of +clothes for him; but his father would not take +part in what was going on.</p> + +<p>The last night he did not sleep, but thought +out a new tune about the church which he had +never seen. He was up early in the morning, +and so was his mother, in order to get him his +breakfast, but he could not eat. He put on +his new clothes and took his fiddle in his hand, +and it seemed to him as though a bright light +were glowing before his eyes. His mother accompanied +him out on the flag-stone, and stood +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> +watching him as he ascended the slopes;—it +was the first time he had left home.</p> + +<p>His father got quietly out of bed and walked +to the window; he stood there following the +boy with his eyes until he heard the mother +out on the flag-stone, then he went back to bed +and was lying down when she came in.</p> + +<p>She kept stirring about him, as if she wanted +to relieve her mind of something. And finally +it came out:—</p> + +<p>"I really think I must walk down to the +church and see how things are going."</p> + +<p>He made no reply, and therefore she considered +the matter settled, dressed herself and +started.</p> + + +<p class="p2">It was a glorious, sunny day, the boy walked +rapidly onward; he listened to the song of the +birds and saw the sun glittering among the +foliage, while he proceeded on his way, with +his fiddle under his arm. And when he reached +the bride's house, he was still so occupied with +his own thoughts, that he observed neither the +bridal splendor nor the procession; he merely +asked if they were about to start, and learned +that they were. He walked on in advance with +his fiddle, and he played the whole morning +into it, and the tones he produced resounded +through the trees.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> +"Will we soon see the church?" he asked +over his shoulder.</p> + +<p>For a long time he received only "No" for +an answer, but at last some one said:</p> + +<p>"As soon as you reach that crag yonder, you +will see it."</p> + +<p>He threw his newest tune into the fiddle, the +bow danced on the strings, and he kept his +eyes fixed intently before him. There lay the +parish right in front of him!</p> + +<p>The first thing he saw was a little light +mist, curling like smoke on the opposite mountain +side. His eyes wandered over the green +meadow and the large houses, with windows +which glistened beneath the scorching rays of +the sun, like the glacier on a winter's day. The +houses kept increasing in size, the windows in +number, and here on one side of him lay the +enormous red house, in front of which horses +were tied; little children were playing on a hill, +dogs were sitting watching them. But everywhere +there penetrated a long, heavy tone, that +shook him from head to foot, and everything he +saw seemed to vibrate with that tone. Then +suddenly he saw a large, straight house, with a +tall, glittering staff reaching up to the skies. +And below, a hundred windows blazed, so that +the house seemed to be enveloped in flames. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> +This must be the church, the boy thought, and +the music must come from it! Round about +stood a vast multitude of people, and they all +looked alike! He put them forthwith into relations +with the church, and thus acquired a +respect mingled with awe for the smallest child +he saw.</p> + +<p>"Now I must play," thought Thrond, and +tried to do so.</p> + +<p>But what was this? The fiddle had no +longer any sound in it. There must be some +defect in the strings; he examined, but could +find none.</p> + +<p>"Then it must be because I do not press on +hard enough," and he drew his bow with a +firmer hand; but the fiddle seemed as if it were +cracked.</p> + +<p>He changed the tune that was meant to represent +the church into another, but with equally +bad results; no music was produced, only +squeaking and wailing. He felt the cold sweat +start out over his face, he thought of all these +wise people who were standing here and perhaps +laughing him to scorn, this boy who at +home could play so beautifully but who here +failed to bring out a single tone!</p> + +<p>"Thank God that mother is not here to see +my shame!" said he softly to himself, as he +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> +played among the people; but lo! there she +stood, in her black dress, and she shrank farther +and farther away.</p> + +<p>At that moment he beheld far up on the +spire, the black-haired man who had given him +the fiddle. "Give it back to me," he now +shouted, laughing and stretching out his arms, +and the spire went up and down with him, up +and down. But the boy took the fiddle under +one arm, screaming, "You shall not have it!" +and turning, ran away from the people, beyond +the houses, onward through meadow and field, +until his strength forsook him, and then sank +to the ground.</p> + +<p>There he lay for a long time, with his face +toward the earth, and when finally he looked +round he saw and heard only God's infinite +blue sky that floated above him, with its everlasting +sough. This was so terrible to him that +he had to turn his face to the ground again. +When he raised his head once more his eyes +fell on his fiddle, which lay at his side.</p> + +<p>"This is all your fault!" shouted the boy, +and seized the instrument with the intention of +dashing it to pieces, but hesitated as he looked +at it.</p> + +<p>"We have had many a happy hour together," +said he, then paused. Presently he said: "The +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> +strings must be severed, for they are worthless." +And he took out a knife and cut. +"Oh!" cried the E string, in a short, pained +tone. The boy cut. "Oh!" wailed the next; +but the boy cut. "Oh!" said the third, +mournfully; and he paused at the fourth. A +sharp pain seized him; that fourth string, to +which he never dared give a name, he did not +cut. Now a feeling came over him that it was +not the fault of the strings that he was unable +to play, and just then he saw his mother walking +slowly up the slope toward where he was +lying, that she might take him home with her. +A greater fright than ever overcame him; he +held the fiddle by the severed strings, sprang to +his feet, and shouted down to her,—</p> + +<p class="p4b">"No, mother! I will not go home again until +I can play what I have seen to-day."</p> + +<hr class="r20" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span></p> + +<h2>A DANGEROUS WOOING.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">When</span> Aslaug had become a grown-up girl, +there was not much peace to be had at Huseby; +for there the finest boys in the parish quarreled +and fought night after night. It was worst of +all on Saturday nights; but then old Knud +Huseby never went to bed without keeping his +leather breeches on, nor without having a birch +stick by his bedside.</p> + +<p>"If I have a daughter, I shall look after her, +too," said old Huseby.</p> + +<p>Thore Næset was only a houseman's son; +nevertheless there were those who said that he +was the one who came oftenest to see the gardman's +daughter at Huseby. Old Knud did not +like this, and declared also that it was not true, +"for he had never seen him there." But people +smiled slyly among themselves, and thought +that had he searched in the corners of the room +instead of fighting with all those who were +making a noise and uproar in the middle of the +floor, he would have found Thore.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> +Spring came and Aslaug went to the sæter +with the cattle. Then, when the day was +warm down in the valley, and the mountain +rose cool above the haze, and when the bells +tinkled, the shepherd dog barked, and Aslaug +sang and blew the loor on the mountain side, +then the hearts of the young fellows who were +at work down on the meadow would ache, and +the first Saturday night they all started up to +the mountain sæter, one faster than the other. +But still more rapidly did they come down +again, for behind the door at the sæter there +stood one who received each of them as he +came, and gave him so sound a whipping that +he forever afterward remembered the threat +that followed it,—</p> + +<p>"Come again another time and you shall +have some more."</p> + +<p>According to what these young fellows knew, +there was only one in the parish who could use +his fists in this way, and that was Thore Næset. +And these rich gardmen's sons thought it was +a shame that this houseman's son should cut +them all out at the Huseby sæter.</p> + +<p>So thought, also, old Knud, when the matter +reached his ears, and said, moreover, that if +there was nobody else who could tackle Thore, +then he and his sons would try it. Knud, it is +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> +true, was growing old, but although he was +nearly sixty, he would at times have a wrestle +or two with his eldest son, when it was too dull +for him at some party or other.</p> + +<p>Up to the Huseby sæter there was but one +road, and that led straight through the gard. +The next Saturday evening, as Thore was going +to the sæter, and was stealing on his tiptoes +across the yard, a man rushed right at his +breast as he came near the barn.</p> + +<p>"What do you want of me?" said Thore, +and knocked his assailant flat on the ground.</p> + +<p>"That you shall soon find out," said another +fellow from behind, giving Thore a blow on the +back of the head. This was the brother of the +former assailant.</p> + +<p>"Here comes the third," said old Knud, rushing +forward to join the fray.</p> + +<p>The danger made Thore stronger. He was +as limber as a willow and his blows left their +marks. He dodged from one side to the other. +Where the blows fell he was not, and where +his opponents least expected blows from him, +they got them. He was, however, at last completely +beaten; but old Knud frequently said +afterwards that a stouter fellow he had scarcely +ever tackled. The fight was continued until +blood flowed, but then Huseby cried,—</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> +"Stop!" and added, "If you can manage to +get by the Huseby wolf and his cubs next Saturday +night, the girl shall be yours."</p> + +<p>Thore dragged himself homeward as best he +could; and as soon as he got home he went to +bed.</p> + +<p>At Huseby there was much talk about the +fight; but everybody said,—</p> + +<p>"What did he want there?"</p> + +<p>There was one, however, who did not say so, +and that was Aslaug. She had expected Thore +that Saturday night, and when she heard what +had taken place between him and her father, +she sat down and had a good cry, saying to +herself,—</p> + +<p>"If I cannot have Thore, there will never +be another happy day for me in this world."</p> + +<p>Thore had to keep his bed all day Sunday; +and Monday, too, he felt that he must do the +same. Tuesday came, and it was such a beautiful +day. It had rained during the night. +The mountain was wet and green. The fragrance +of the leaves was wafted in through the +open window; down the mountain sides came +the sound of the cow-bells, and some one was +heard singing up in the glen. Had it not been +for his mother, who was sitting in the room, +Thore would have wept from impatient vexation.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> +Wednesday came and still Thore was in bed; +but on Thursday he began to wonder whether +he could not get well by Saturday; and on Friday +he rose. He remembered well the words +Aslaug's father had spoken: "If you can manage +to get by the Huseby wolf and his cubs +next Saturday, the girl shall be yours." He +looked over toward the Huseby sæter again and +again. "I cannot get more than another +thrashing," thought Thore.</p> + +<p>Up to the Huseby sæter there was but one +road, as before stated; but a clever fellow might +manage to get there, even if he did not take +the beaten track. If he rowed out on the fjord +below, and past the little tongue of land yonder, +and thus reached the other side of the +mountain, he might contrive to climb it, though +it was so steep that a goat could scarcely venture +there—and a goat is not very apt to be +timid in climbing the mountains, you know.</p> + +<p>Saturday came, and Thore stayed without +doors all day long. The sunlight played upon +the foliage, and every now and then an alluring +song was heard from the mountains. As +evening drew near, and the mist was stealing +up the slope, he was still sitting outside of the +door. He looked up the mountain, and all was +still. He looked over toward the Huseby gard. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span> +Then he pushed out his boat and rowed round +the point of land.</p> + +<p>Up at the sæter sat Aslaug, through with +her day's work. She was thinking that Thore +would not come this evening, but that there +would come all the more in his stead. Presently +she let loose the dog, but told no one +whither she was going. She seated herself +where she could look down into the valley; +but a dense fog was rising, and, moreover, she +felt little disposed to look down that way, for +everything reminded her of what had occurred. +So she moved, and without thinking what she +was doing, she happened to go over to the other +side of the mountain, and there she sat down +and gazed out over the sea. There was so +much peace in this far-reaching sea-view!</p> + +<p>Then she felt like singing. She chose a song +with long notes, and the music sounded far into +the still night. She felt gladdened by it, and +so she sang another verse. But then it seemed +to her as if some one answered her from the +glen far below. "Dear me, what can that +be?" thought Aslaug. She went forward to +the brink of the precipice, and threw her arms +around a slender birch, which hung trembling +over the steep. She looked down but saw +nothing. The fjord lay silent and calm. Not +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> +even a bird ruffled its smooth surface. Aslaug +sat down and began singing again. Then she +was sure that some one responded with the +same tune and nearer than the first time. "It +must be somebody, after all." Aslaug sprang +up and bent out over the brink of the steep; +and there, down at the foot of a rocky wall, +she saw a boat moored, and it was so far down +that it appeared like a tiny shell. She looked +a little farther up, and her eyes fell on a red +cap, and under the cap she saw a young man, +who was working his way up the almost perpendicular +side of the mountain. "Dear me, +who can that be?" asked Aslaug, as she let go +of the birch and sprang far back.</p> + +<p>She dared not answer her own question, for +she knew very well who it was. She threw +herself down on the greensward and took hold +of the grass with both hands, as though it were +<i>she</i> who must not let go her hold. But the +grass came up by the roots.</p> + +<p>She cried aloud and prayed God to help +Thore. But then it struck her that this conduct +of Thore's was really tempting God, and +therefore no help could be expected.</p> + +<p>"Just this once!" she implored.</p> + +<p>And she threw her arms around the dog, as +if it were Thore she were keeping from loosing +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> +his hold. She rolled over the grass with him, +and the moments seemed years. But then the +dog tore himself away. "Bow-bow," he barked +over the brink of the steep and wagged his tail. +"Bow-wow," he barked at Aslaug, and threw +his forepaws up on her. "Bow-wow," over the +precipice again; and a red cap appeared over +the brow of the mountain and Thore lay in her +arms.</p> + +<p>Now when old Knud Huseby heard of this, +he made a very sensible remark, for he said,—</p> + +<p class="p4b">"That boy is worth having; the girl shall +be his."</p> + +<hr class="r20" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span></p> + +<h2>THE BEAR HUNTER.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">A worse</span> boy to tell lies than the priest's +oldest son could scarcely be found in the whole +parish; he was also a very good reader; there +was no lack on that score, and what he read +the peasants were glad to hear, but when it +was something they were well pleased with, he +would make up more of the same kind, as much +as he thought they wanted. His own stories +were mostly about strong men and about love.</p> + +<p>Soon the priest noticed that the threshing up +in the barn was being done in a more and more +lazy manner; he went to see what the matter +was, and behold it was Thorvald, who stood +there telling stories. Soon the quantity of +wood brought home from the forest became +wonderfully small; he went to see what the +trouble was, and there stood Thorvald again, +telling stories. There must be an end to this, +thought the priest; and he sent the boy to the +nearest school.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> +Only peasant children attended this school, +but the priest thought it would be too expensive +to keep a private tutor for this one boy. +But Thorvald had not been a week among the +scholars, before one of his schoolmates came in +pale as a corpse, and said he had met some of +the underground folk coming along the road. +Another boy, still paler, followed, and said that +he had actually seen a man without a head walking +about and moving the boats down by the +landing-place. And what was worst of all, little +Knud Pladsen and his young sister, one evening, +as they were returning home from school, +came running back, almost out of their senses, +crying, and declaring that they had heard the +bear up near the parsonage; nay, little Marit +had even seen his gray eyes sparkle. But now +the school-master got terribly angry, struck the +table with his ferule, and asked what the deuce—God +pardon me my wicked sin—had gotten +into the school-children.</p> + +<p>"One is growing more crazy than the other," +said he. "There lurks a hulder in every bush; +there sits a merman under every boat; the bear +is out in midwinter! Have you no more faith +in your God or in your catechism," quoth he, +"or do you believe in all kinds of deviltry, +and in all the terrible powers of darkness, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> +in bears roaming about in the middle of winter?"</p> + +<p>But then he calmed down somewhat after a +while, and asked little Marit whether she really +did not dare to go home. The child sobbed +and cried, and declared that it was utterly impossible. +The school-master then said that +Thorvald, who was the eldest of those remaining, +should go with her through the wood.</p> + +<p>"No, he has seen the bear himself," cried +Marit; "it was he who told us about it."</p> + +<p>Thorvald shrank within himself, where he +was sitting, especially when the school-master +looked at him and drew the ferule affectionately +through his left hand.</p> + +<p>"Have you seen the bear?" he asked, quietly.</p> + +<p>"Well, at any rate, I know," said Thorvald, +"that our overseer found a bear's den up in the +priest's wood, the day he was out ptarmigan +shooting."</p> + +<p>"But have you seen the bear yourself?"</p> + +<p>"It was not one, it was two large ones, and +perhaps there were two smaller ones besides, +as the old ones generally have their last year's +cubs and this year's, too, with them."</p> + +<p>"But have <i>you</i> seen them?" reiterated the +school-master, still more mildly, as he kept +drawing the ferule between his fingers.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> +Thorvald was silent for a moment.</p> + +<p>"I saw the bear that Lars, the hunter, felled +last year, at any rate."</p> + +<p>Then the school-master came a step nearer, +and asked, so pleasantly that the boy became +frightened,—</p> + +<p>"Have you seen the bears up in the parsonage +wood, I ask?"</p> + +<p>Thorvald did not say another word.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps your memory did not serve you +quite right this time?" said the school-master, +taking the boy by the jacket collar and striking +his own side with the ferule.</p> + +<p>Thorvald did not say a word; the other children +dared not look that way. Then the +school-master said earnestly,—</p> + +<p>"It is wicked for a priest's son to tell lies, +and still more wicked to teach the poor peasant +children to do such things."</p> + +<p>And so the boy escaped for that time.</p> + +<p>But the next day at school (the teacher had +been called up to the priest's and the children +were left to themselves) Marit was the first one +to ask Thorvald to tell her something about the +bear again.</p> + +<p>"But you get so frightened," said he.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I think I will have to stand it," said +she, and moved closer to her brother.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> +"Ah, now you had better believe it will be +shot!" said Thorvald, and nodded his head. +"There has come a fellow to the parish who +is able to shoot it. No sooner had Lars, the +hunter, heard about the bear's den up in the +parsonage wood, than he came running through +seven whole parishes with a rifle as heavy as +the upper mill-stone, and as long as from here +to Hans Volden, who sits yonder."</p> + +<p>"Mercy!" cried all the children.</p> + +<p>"As long?" repeated Thorvald; "yes, it is +certainly as long as from here to yonder +bench."</p> + +<p>"Have you seen it?" asked Ole Böen.</p> + +<p>"Have I seen it, do you say? Why, I have +been helping to clean it, and that is what Lars +will not allow everybody to do, let me tell you. +Of course <i>I</i> could not lift it, but that made no +difference; I only cleaned the lock, and that is +not the easiest work, I can tell you."</p> + +<p>"People say that gun of Lars's has taken to +missing its mark of late," said Hans Volden, +leaning back, with both his feet on the desk. +"Ever since that time when Lars shot, up at +Osmark, at a bear that was asleep, it misses +fire twice and misses the mark the third time."</p> + +<p>"Yes, ever since he shot at a bear that was +asleep," chimed in the girls.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> +"The fool!" added the boys.</p> + +<p>"There is only one way in which this difficulty +with the rifle can be remedied," said Ole +Böen, "and that is to thrust a living snake +down its barrel."</p> + +<p>"Yes, we all know that," said the girls. +They wanted to hear something new.</p> + +<p>"It is now winter, and snakes are not to be +found, and so Lars cannot depend very much +upon his rifle," said Hans Volden, thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"He wants Niels Böen along with him, does +he not?" asked Thorvald.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the boy from Böen's, who was, +of course, best posted in regard to this; "but +Niels will get permission neither from his +mother nor from his sister. His father certainly +died from the wrestle he had with the +bear up at the sæter last year, and now they +have no one but Niels."</p> + +<p>"Is it so dangerous, then?" asked a little +boy.</p> + +<p>"Dangerous?" cried Thorvald. "The bear +has as much sense as ten men, and as much +strength as twelve."</p> + +<p>"Yes, we know that," said the girls once +more. They were bent on hearing something +new.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> +"But Niels is like his father; I dare say he +will go along," continued Thorvald.</p> + +<p>"Of course he will go along," said Ole +Böen; "this morning early, before any one was +stirring over yonder at our gard, I saw Niels +Böen, Lars the hunter, and one man more, +going up the mountain with their rifles. I +should not be surprised if they were going to +the parsonage wood."</p> + +<p>"Was it early?" asked the children, in concert.</p> + +<p>"Very early! I was up before mother, and +started the fire."</p> + +<p>"Did Lars have the long rifle?" asked +Hans.</p> + +<p>"That I do not know, but the one he had +was as long as from here to the chair."</p> + +<p>"Oh, what a story!" said Thorvald.</p> + +<p>"Why, you said so yourself," answered Ole.</p> + +<p>"No, the long rifle which I saw, he will +scarcely use any more."</p> + +<p>"Well, this one was, at all events, as long—as +long—as from here, nearly over to the +chair."</p> + +<p>"Ah! perhaps he had it with him then +after all."</p> + +<p>"Just think," said Marit, "now they are up +among the bears."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> +"And at this very moment they may be in a +fight," said Thorvald.</p> + +<p>Then followed a deep, nay, almost solemn +silence.</p> + +<p>"I think I will go," said Thorvald, taking +his cap.</p> + +<p>"Yes! yes! then you will find out something," +shouted all the rest, and they became +full of life again.</p> + +<p>"But the school-master?" said he, and +stopped.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! you are the priest's son," said +Ole Böen.</p> + +<p>"Yes, if the school-master touches me with a +finger!" said Thorvald, with a significant nod, +in the midst of the deep silence of the rest.</p> + +<p>"Will you hit him back?" asked they, +eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Who knows?" said Thorvald, nodding, +and went away.</p> + +<p>They thought it best to study while he was +gone, but none of them were able to do so,—they +had to keep talking about the bear. They +began guessing how the affair would turn out. +Hans bet with Ole that Lars's rifle had missed +fire, and that the bear had sprung at him. Little +Knud Pladsen thought they had all fared +badly, and the girls took his side. But there +came Thorvald.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> +"Let us go," said he, as he pulled open the +door, so excited that he could scarcely speak.</p> + +<p>"But the school-master?" asked some of the +children.</p> + +<p>"The deuce take the school-master! The +bear! The bear!" cried Thorvald, and could +say no more.</p> + +<p>"Is it shot?" asked one, very softly, and the +others dared not draw their breath.</p> + +<p>Thorvald sat panting for a while, finally he +got up, mounted one of the benches, swung his +cap, and shouted,—</p> + +<p>"Let us go, I say. I will take all the responsibility."</p> + +<p>"But where shall we go?" asked Hans.</p> + +<p>"The largest bear has been borne down, the +others still remain. Niels Böen has been badly +hurt, because Lars's rifle missed its mark, and +the bears rushed straight at them. The boy +who went with them saved himself only by +throwing himself flat on the ground, and pretending +to be dead, and the bear did not touch +him. As soon as Lars and Niels had killed +their bear, they shot his also. Hurrah!"</p> + +<p>"Hurrah!" shouted all, both girls and boys, +and up from their seats, and out through the +door, they sprang, and off they ran over field +and wood to Böen, as though there was no such +thing as a school-master in the whole world.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span> +The girls soon complained that they were +not able to keep up, but the boys took them by +the hand and away they all rushed.</p> + +<p>"Take care not to touch it!" said Thorvald; +"it sometimes happens that the bears become +alive again."</p> + +<p>"Is that so?" asked Marit.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and they appear in a new form, so +have a care!"</p> + +<p>And they kept running.</p> + +<p>"Lars shot the largest one ten times before it +fell," he began again.</p> + +<p>"Just think! ten times!"</p> + +<p>And they kept running.</p> + +<p>"And Niels stabbed it eighteen times with +his knife before it fell!"</p> + +<p>"Mercy! what a bear!"</p> + +<p>And the children ran so that the sweat +poured down from their faces.</p> + +<p>Finally they reached the place. Ole Böen +pushed the door open and got in first.</p> + +<p>"Have a care!" cried Hans after him.</p> + +<p>Marit and a little girl that Thorvald and +Hans had led between them, were the next ones, +and then came Thorvald, who did not go far +forward, but remained standing where he could +observe the whole scene.</p> + +<p>"See the blood!" said he to Hans.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> +The others hardly knew whether they should +venture in just yet.</p> + +<p>"Do you see it?" asked a girl of a boy, who +stood by her side in the door.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is as large as the captain's large +horse," answered he, and went on talking to +her. It was bound with iron chains, he said, +and had even broken the one that had been +put about its fore-legs. He could see distinctly +that it was alive, and the blood was flowing +from it like a waterfall.</p> + +<p>Of course, this was not true; but they forgot +that when they caught sight of the bear, the +rifle, and Niels, who sat there with bandaged +wounds after the fight with the bear, and when +they heard old Lars the hunter tell how all had +happened. So eagerly, and with so much interest +did they look and listen, that they did +not observe that some one came behind them +who also began to tell his story, and that in +the following manner:—</p> + +<p>"I will teach you to leave the school without +my permission, that I will!"</p> + +<p>A cry of fright arose from the whole crowd, +and out through the door, through the veranda, +and out into the yard they ran. Soon they appeared +like a lot of black balls, rolling one by +one, over the snow-white field, and when the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span> +school-master on his old legs followed them to +the school-house, he could hear the children +reading from afar off; they read until the walls +fairly rattled.</p> + +<p class="p4b">Aye, that was a glorious day, the day when +the bear-hunter came home! It began in sunshine +and ended in rain, but such days are +usually the best growing days.</p> + +<hr class="r20" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span></p> + +<h2>THE FATHER.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> man whose story is here to be told was +the wealthiest and most influential person in +his parish; his name was Thord Överaas. He +appeared in the priest's study one day, tall and +earnest.</p> + +<p>"I have gotten a son," said he, "and I wish +to present him for baptism."</p> + +<p>"What shall his name be?"</p> + +<p>"Finn,—after my father."</p> + +<p>"And the sponsors?"</p> + +<p>They were mentioned, and proved to be the +best men and women of Thord's relations in the +parish.</p> + +<p>"Is there anything else?" inquired the +priest, and looked up.</p> + +<p>The peasant hesitated a little.</p> + +<p>"I should like very much to have him baptized +by himself," said he, finally.</p> + +<p>"That is to say on a week-day?"</p> + +<p>"Next Saturday, at twelve o'clock noon."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span> +"Is there anything else?" inquired the +priest.</p> + +<p>"There is nothing else;" and the peasant +twirled his cap, as though he were about to go.</p> + +<p>Then the priest rose. "There is yet this, +however," said he, and walking toward Thord, +he took him by the hand and looked gravely +into his eyes: "God grant that the child may +become a blessing to you!"</p> + +<p>One day sixteen years later, Thord stood +once more in the priest's study.</p> + +<p>"Really, you carry your age astonishingly +well, Thord," said the priest; for he saw no +change whatever in the man.</p> + +<p>"That is because I have no troubles," replied +Thord.</p> + +<p>To this the priest said nothing, but after a +while he asked: "What is your pleasure this +evening?"</p> + +<p>"I have come this evening about that son of +mine who is to be confirmed to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"He is a bright boy."</p> + +<p>"I did not wish to pay the priest until I +heard what number the boy would have when +he takes his place in church to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"He will stand number one."</p> + +<p>"So I have heard; and here are ten dollars +for the priest."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> +"Is there anything else I can do for you?" +inquired the priest, fixing his eyes on Thord.</p> + +<p>"There is nothing else."</p> + +<p>Thord went out.</p> + +<p>Eight years more rolled by, and then one +day a noise was heard outside of the priest's +study, for many men were approaching, and at +their head was Thord, who entered first.</p> + +<p>The priest looked up and recognized him.</p> + +<p>"You come well attended this evening, +Thord," said he.</p> + +<p>"I am here to request that the bans may be +published for my son: he is about to marry +Karen Storliden, daughter of Gudmund, who +stands here beside me."</p> + +<p>"Why, that is the richest girl in the parish."</p> + +<p>"So they say," replied the peasant, stroking +back his hair with one hand.</p> + +<p>The priest sat a while as if in deep thought, +then entered the names in his book, without +making any comments, and the men wrote their +signatures underneath. Thord laid three dollars +on the table.</p> + +<p>"One is all I am to have," said the priest.</p> + +<p>"I know that very well; but he is my only +child, I want to do it handsomely."</p> + +<p>The priest took the money.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> +"This is now the third time, Thord, that +you have come here on your son's account."</p> + +<p>"But now I am through with him," said +Thord, and folding up his pocket-book he said +farewell and walked away.</p> + +<p>The men slowly followed him.</p> + +<p>A fortnight later, the father and son were +rowing across the lake, one calm, still day, to +Storliden to make arrangements for the wedding.</p> + +<p>"This thwart is not secure," said the son, +and stood up to straighten the seat on which +he was sitting.</p> + +<p>At the same moment the board he was standing +on slipped from under him; he threw out +his arms, uttered a shriek, and fell overboard.</p> + +<p>"Take hold of the oar!" shouted the father, +springing to his feet and holding out the oar.</p> + +<p>But when the son had made a couple of efforts +he grew stiff.</p> + +<p>"Wait a moment!" cried the father, and +began to row toward his son.</p> + +<p>Then the son rolled over on his back, gave +his father one long look, and sank.</p> + +<p>Thord could scarcely believe it; he held the +boat still, and stared at the spot where his son +had gone down, as though he must surely come +to the surface again. There rose some bubbles, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> +then some more, and finally one large one that +burst; and the lake lay there as smooth and +bright as a mirror again.</p> + +<p>For three days and three nights people saw +the father rowing round and round the spot, +without taking either food or sleep; he was +dragging the lake for the body of his son. And +toward morning of the third day he found it, +and carried it in his arms up over the hills to +his gard.</p> + +<p>It might have been about a year from that +day, when the priest, late one autumn evening, +heard some one in the passage outside of the +door, carefully trying to find the latch. The +priest opened the door, and in walked a tall, +thin man, with bowed form and white hair. +The priest looked long at him before he recognized +him. It was Thord.</p> + +<p>"Are you out walking so late?" said the +priest, and stood still in front of him.</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes! it is late," said Thord, and took +a seat.</p> + +<p>The priest sat down also, as though waiting. +A long, long silence followed. At last Thord +said,—</p> + +<p>"I have something with me that I should +like to give to the poor; I want it to be in +vested as a legacy in my son's name."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span> +He rose, laid some money on the table, and +sat down again. The priest counted it.</p> + +<p>"It is a great deal of money," said he.</p> + +<p>"It is half the price of my gard. I sold it +to-day."</p> + +<p>The priest sat long in silence. At last he +asked, but gently,—</p> + +<p>"What do you propose to do now, Thord?"</p> + +<p>"Something better."</p> + +<p>They sat there for a while, Thord with downcast +eyes, the priest with his eyes fixed on +Thord. Presently the priest said, slowly and +softly,—</p> + +<p>"I think your son has at last brought you a +true blessing."</p> + +<p class="p4b">"Yes, I think so myself," said Thord, looking +up, while two big tears coursed slowly down +his cheeks.</p> + +<hr class="r20" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span></p> + +<h2>THE EAGLE'S NEST.</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Endregards was the name of a small +solitary parish, surrounded by lofty mountains. +It lay in a flat and fertile valley, and was intersected +by a broad river that flowed down +from the mountains. This river emptied into +a lake, which was situated close by the parish, +and presented a fine view of the surrounding +country.</p> + +<p>Up the Endre-Lake the man had come rowing, +who had first cleared this valley; his name +was Endre, and it was his descendants who +dwelt here. Some said he had fled hither on +account of a murder he had committed, and that +was why his family were so dark; others said +this was on account of the mountains, which +shut out the sun at five o'clock of a midsummer +afternoon.</p> + +<p>Over this parish there hung an eagle's nest. +It was built on a cliff far up the mountains; all +could see the mother eagle alight in her nest, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span> +but no one could reach it. The male eagle +went sailing over the parish, now swooping +down after a lamb, now after a kid; once he +had also taken a little child and borne it away; +therefore there was no safety in the parish as +long as the eagle had a nest in this mountain. +There was a tradition among the people, that +in old times there were two brothers who had +climbed up to the nest and torn it down; but +nowadays there was no one who was able to +reach it.</p> + +<p>Whenever two met at the Endregards, they +talked about the eagle's nest, and looked up. +Every one knew, when the eagles reappeared in +the new year, where they had swooped down +and done mischief, and who had last endeavored +to reach the nest. The youth of the place, +from early boyhood, practiced climbing mountains +and trees, wrestling and scuffling, in order +that one day they might reach the cliff and demolish +the nest, as those two brothers had +done.</p> + +<p>At the time of which this story tells, the +best boy at the Endregards was named Leif, and +he was not of the Endre family. He had curly +hair and small eyes, was clever in all play, and +was fond of the fair sex. He early said of himself, +that one day he would reach the eagle's +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span> +nest; but old people remarked that he should +not have said so aloud.</p> + +<p>This annoyed him, and even before he had +reached his prime he made the ascent. It was +one bright Sunday forenoon, early in the summer; +the young eagles must be just about +hatched. A vast multitude of people had gathered +together at the foot of the mountain to +behold the feat; the old people advising him +against attempting it, the young ones urging +him on.</p> + +<p>But he hearkened only to his own desires, +and waiting until the mother eagle left her nest, +he gave one spring into the air, and hung in a +tree several yards from the ground. The tree +grew in a cleft in the rock, and from this cleft +he began to climb upward. Small stones loosened +under his feet, earth and gravel came rolling +down, otherwise all was still, save for the +stream flowing behind, with its suppressed, +ceaseless murmur. Soon he had reached a point +where the mountain began to project; here he +hung long by one hand, while his foot groped +for a sure resting-place, for he could not see. +Many, especially women, turned away, saying +he would never have done this had he had parents +living. He found footing at last, however +sought again, now with the hand, now with +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span> +the foot, failed, slipped, then hung fast again. +They who stood below could hear one another +breathing.</p> + +<p>Suddenly there rose to her feet, a tall, young +girl, who had been sitting on a stone apart +from the rest; it was said that she had been +betrothed to Leif from early childhood, although +he was not of her kindred. Stretching out her +arms she called aloud: "Leif, Leif, why do +you do this?" Every eye was turned on her. +Her father, who was standing close by, gave +her a stern look, but she heeded him not. +"Come down again, Leif," she cried; "I love +you, and there is nothing to be gained up +there!"</p> + +<p>They could see that he was considering; he +hesitated a moment or two, and then started +onward. For a long time all went well, for he +was sure-footed and had a strong grip; but +after a while it seemed as if he were growing +weary, for he often paused. Presently a little +stone came rolling down as a harbinger, and +every one who stood there had to watch its +course to the bottom. Some could endure it no +longer, and went away. The girl alone still +stood on the stone, and wringing her hands +continued to gaze upward.</p> + +<p>Once more Leif took hold with one hand +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span> +but it slipped; she saw this distinctly; then he +tried the other; it slipped also. "Leif!" she +shouted, so loud that her voice rang through +the mountains, and all the others chimed in +with her. "He is slipping!" they cried, and +stretched up their hands to him, both men and +women. He was indeed slipping, carrying with +him sand, stones, and earth; slipping, continually +slipping, ever faster and faster. The people +turned away, and then they heard a rustling +and scraping in the mountain behind them, +after which, something fell with a heavy thud, +like a great piece of wet earth.</p> + +<p>When they could look round again, he was +lying there crushed and mutilated beyond recognition. +The girl had fallen down on the +stone, and her father took her up in his arms +and bore her away.</p> + +<p>The youths who had taken the most pains to +incite Leif to the perilous ascent now dared +not lend a hand to pick him up; some were +even unable to look at him. So the old people +had to go forward. The eldest of them, as he +took hold of the body, said: "It is very sad, +but," he added, casting a look upward, "it is, +after all, well that something hangs so high +that it cannot be reached by every one."</p> + +<hr class="r20" /> + +<div class="footnotes"> +<h4>FOOTNOTES:</h4> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> To this there will also be found in the Album a melody by +Halfdan Kjerulf.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> The top of a hill is called in Norwegian "Kamp," and the +houseman's place took its name from its situation.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> A popular dance in two-fourths time, described in this chapter.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> Translated by Augusta Plesner and S. Rugeley-Powers.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> A popular dance, in three-fourths time.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> A Dane, the most noted psalmist of Scandinavia.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> Auber Forestier's translation.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> Translated by Augusta Plesner and S. Rugeley-Powers.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> Auber Forestier's translation.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> Adapted to the metre of the original from the translation of +Augusta Plesner and S. Rugeley-Powers.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> Adapted to the metre of the original, from the translation of +Augusta Plesner and S. Rugeley-Powers.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> Translated by Augusta Plesner and S. Rugeley-Powers.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> A kind of road-sulky used by travelers in Norway.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> Important announcements are made to the people in front +of the church after service.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> The chief magistrate of an amt or county.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> Bailiff.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> Auber Forestier's translation.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> Translated by Augusta Plesner and S. Rugeley-Powers.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> The hulder dwells in forests and mountains, appears like a +beautiful woman, and usually wears a blue petticoat and a white +hood. She has a long tail, which she tries to conceal when she +is among people. She is fond of cattle.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> Translated by Augusta Plesner and S. Rugeley-Powers.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> Shooting or flinging steel over the head of hulders, trolls, +etc., makes the witchery vanish. Thus also a piece of steel laid +in the cradle prevents hulders from exchanging little children for +their own.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> A kind of long snow-shoe.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> Adapted to the metre of the original from the translation of +Augusta Plesner and S. Rugeley-Powers.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> The peasants call the priest father.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> Auber Forestier's translation.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_26_26" id="Footnote_26_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> Peasants wear an under-garment high in the neck with long +sleeves.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_27_27" id="Footnote_27_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> Adapted to the original metre from the translation of Augusta +Plesner and S. Rugeley-Powers.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_28_28" id="Footnote_28_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> Translated by Augusta Plesner and S. Rugeley-Powers.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_29_29" id="Footnote_29_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> The Norse word <i>datter</i> means daughter.</p> +</div></div> + +<hr class="r65" /> + +<div class="transnote"> +<h2><a name="TRANSCRIBERS_NOTES" id="TRANSCRIBERS_NOTES">TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES</a></h2> + +<p>38 typos have been silently corrected. The vast majority of these are caused +by the apparent failure of a letter or punctuation mark to print correctly, +leaving a gap in the text.</p> + +<p>Both "childlike" and "child-like", "roadside" and "road-side" were used in +this text.</p> + +<p>On p. 238, the phrasing "articles in the newspapers, which report +attributed to him," does not make sense, but there is no obvious +amendment. No change has been made.</p> +<p> +Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.</p> + +<p class="p2b">A Table of Contents has been added.</p> + +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Arne: Early Tales and Sketches, by +Bjornstjerne Bjornson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARNE: EARLY TALES AND SKETCHES *** + +***** This file should be named 39744-h.htm or 39744-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/7/4/39744/ + +Produced by Charlene Taylor, Margo Romberg and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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