第7章

Thenithadoccurredtohimforthefirsttimeinhislifethatawoman’sbehaviorneednotbethelogicalindicatorofherdeepestfeelings，and，enrichedwiththisjoyfuldiscovery，inspiredwithnewhope，hehadreturned，buthadnotdaredatoncetoseektheParsonage，untilhecouldinventsomeplausiblereasonforhisreturn;buthisimaginationwasverypoor，andhehadfoundnone，exceptthathelovedthepastor’sbeautifuldaughter。

Theeveningworeon。Thebroadmountain—

guardedvalley，floodednowtothebrimwithasoftmistylight，spreadoutaboutthem，andfilledthemwithadelicioussenseofsecurity。

Thefjordlifteditsgravegazetowardthesky，anddeepenedresponsivelywithabright，ever—

recedingimmensity。Theyounggirlfeltthisblessedpeacegentlystealingoverher;doubtandstrugglewereallpast，andthesunshoneeversereneandunobscureduponthewideningexpansesofthefuture。Andinhisbreast，too，thatmoodreignedinwhichlifelooksboundlessandradiant，humanwoessmallorimpossible，andone’sownselflargeandall—conquering。

Inthathourtheyremodeledthisoldandobstinateworldofours，neverdoubtingthat，ifeachunitedhisfaithandstrengthwiththeother’s，theycouldtogetherliftitsburden。

ThatnightwasthehappiestandmostmemorablenightinthehistoryoftheGranParsonage。

Thepastorwalkedupanddownonthefloor，rubbinghishandsinquietcontentment。Inga，towhomanengagementwasessentiallyasol—

emnaffair，satinacornerandgazedathersisterandStrandwithtearfulradiance。Arnfinngaveventtohisjoybybestowingembracespromiscuouslyuponwhomsoeverchancedtocomeinhisway。

Thisstory，however，hasabriefbutnotunimportantsequel。ItwasnotmanyweeksafterthishappyeveningthatArnfinnandthemaidenwiththe"amusinglyunclassicalnose"presentedthemselvesinthepastor’sstudyandaskedforhispaternalandunofficialblessing。Butthepastor，Iamtold，grewverywroth，anddemandedthathisnephewshouldfirsttakehissecondandthirddegrees，attaching，besides，someveryodiousstipulationsregardingaverageinstudyandcollegestanding，beforetherecouldbeanytalkaboutengagementormatrimony。

So，atpresent，Arnfinnisstillstudying，andthefair—hairedIngaisstillwaiting。

TRULS，THENAMELESS。

HEwasborninthehouseman’slodge;

sheinthegreatmansion。Hedidnotknowwhohisfatherwas;shewasthedaughterofGrimofSkogli，andshewastheonlydaughterhehad。Theywerecarriedtobaptismonthesameday，andhewascalledTruls，becausetheyhadtocallhimsomething;

shereceivedthenameofBorghild，becausethathadbeenthenameofeveryeldestborndaughterinthefamilyforthirtygenerations。Theybothcriedwhenthepastorpouredthewaterontheirheads;hismotherhushedhim，blushed，andlookedtimidlyaroundher;

butthewomanwhocarriedBorghildliftedherhighupinherarmssothateverybodycouldseeher，andthepastorsmiledbenignly，andtheparishionerssaidthattheyhadneverseensobeautifulachild。Thatwasthewayinwhichtheybeganlife——heasachildofsin，sheasthedaughterofamightyrace。

Theygrewuptogether。Shehadroundcheeksandmerryeyes，andherlipswereredderthantheredrose。Hewasofslendergrowth，hisfacewasthinandpale，andhiseyeshadastrange，benumbedgaze，asiftheywerepuzzlingthemselveswithsomesad，life—longriddlewhichtheyneverhopedtosolve。Onthestrandwheretheyplayedthebillowscameandwent，andtheymurmuredfaintlywithasoundofinfiniteremoteness。Borghildlaughedaloud，clappedherhandsandthrewstonesoutintothewater，whilehesatpaleandsilent，andsawthegreatwhite—wingedsea—birdssailingthroughtheblueoceanofthesky。

"Howwouldyouliketolivedownthereinthedeepgreenwater？"sheaskedhimoneday，astheysatwatchingtheeider—duckswhichswamanddived，andstoodontheirheadsamongthesea—weeds。

"Ishouldlikeitverywell，"heanswered，"ifyouwouldfollowme。"

"No，Iwon’tfollowyou，"shecried。"Itiscoldandwetdowninthewater。AndIshouldspoiltheribbonsonmynewbodice。ButwhenIgrowupandgetbigandcanbraidmyhair，thenIshallrowwiththeyoungladstothechurchyonderontheheadland，andtheretheoldpastorwillmarryme，andIshallwearthebigsilvercrownwhichmymotherworewhenshewasmarried。"

"AndmayIgowithyou？"askedhe，timidly。

"Yes，youmaysteermyboatandbemyhelmsman，or——youmaybemybridegroom，ifyouwouldlikethatbetter。"

"Yes，IthinkIshouldratherbeyourbridegroom，"andhegaveheralong，strangelookwhichalmostfrightenedher。

Theyearsslippedby，andbeforeBorghildknewit，shehadgrownintowomanhood。ThedownonTruls’scheeksbecamerougher，andhe，too，begantosuspectthathewasnolongeraboy。Whenthesunwaslateandthebreezemurmuredinthegreat，dark—crownedpines，theyoftenmetbychance，atthewell，onthestrand，oronthesaeter—green。Andtheoftenertheymetthemoretheyfoundtotalkabout;tobesure，itwasshewhodidthetalking，andhelookedatherwithhislargewonderingeyesandlistened。Shetoldhimofthelambwhichhadtumbleddownoverasteepprecipiceandstillwasunhurt，ofthebabywhopulledthepastor’shairlastSundayduringthebaptismalceremony，orofthelumberman，Lars，whodrankthekero—

senehiswifegavehimforbrandy，andneverknewthedifference。But，whenthemilkmaidspassedby，shewouldsuddenlyforgetwhatshehadbeensaying，andthentheysatgazingateachotherinsilence。OnceshetoldhimoftheladswhodancedwithheratthepartyatHoug;

andshethoughtshenoticedadeepercoloronhisface，andthatheclinchedbothhisfistsand——thrustthemintohispockets。Thatsetherthinking，andthemoreshethought，themorecuriousshegrew。Heplayedtheviolinwell;

supposesheshouldaskhimtocomeandfiddleatthepartyherfatherwastogiveattheendoftheharvest。Sheresolvedtodoit，andhe，notknowingwhatmovedher，gavehispromiseeagerly。Itstruckher，afterward，thatshehaddoneawickedthing，but，likemostgirls，shehadnotthehearttowrestlewithanuncomfortablethought;sheshookitoffandbegantohumasnatchofanoldsong。

"O’erthebillowsthefleet—footedstorm—windrode，Thebillowsbluearethemerman’sabode，Sostrangelythatharpwassounding。"

Thememoryofoldtimescamebacktoher，thememoryofthemorninglongyearsago，whentheysattogetheronthestrand，andhesaid;"IthinkIwouldratherbeyourbride—

groom，Borghild。"Thememorywassweetbutitwasbittertoo;andthebitternessroseandfilledherheart。Shethrewherheadbackproudly，andlaughedastrange，hollowlaugh。

"Abastard’sbride，ha，ha！Afinetalewerethatfortheparishgossips。"Ayellowbutterflylightedonherarm，andwithafiercefrownonherfaceshecaughtitbetweenherfingers。

Thenshelookedpityinglyonthedeadwings，astheylayinherhand，andmurmuredbetweenherteeth："Poorthing！Whydidyoucomeinmyway，unbidden？"

Theharvestwasrich，andtheharvestpartywastokeeppacewiththeharvest。ThebroadSkoglimansionwasfestivelylighted（foritwasalreadylateinSeptember）;thetall，straighttallowcandles，stuckinmany—armedcandlesticks，shonedimlythroughasortofmistyhalo，andonlysuffusedtheduskwithafaintglimmeringoflight。Andeverytimeaguestentered，theflamesofthecandlesflickeredandtwistedthemselveswiththewind，strugglingtokeeperect。AndBorghild’scourage，too，roseandfellwiththeflickeringmotionofaflamewhichwrestleswiththewind。WheneverthelatchclickedsheliftedhereyesandlookedforTruls，andonemomentshewishedthatshemightneverseehisfaceagain，andinthenextshesentaneagerglancetowardthedoor。Presentlyhecame，threwhisfiddleonabench，andwitharecklessairwalkeduptoherandheldouthishand。Shehesitatedtoreturnhisgreeting，butwhenshesawthedeeplinesofsufferinginhisface，herheartwentforwardwithagreattendernesstowardhim，atendernesssuchasonefeelsforachildwhoissick，andsufferswithouthopeofhealing。Shelaidherhandinhis，andthereitlayforawhilelistlessly;forneitherdaredtrustthejoywhichthesightoftheotherenkindled。Butwhenshetriedtodrawherhandaway，hecaughtitquickly，andwithasuddenfervorofvoicehesaid：

"Thesightofyou，Borghild，stillsthehungerwhichisraginginmysoul。Bewarethatyoudonotplaywithalife，Borghild，eventhoughitbeaworthlessone。"

Therewassomethingsohopelesslysadinhiswords，thattheystunghertothequick。Theylaidbareahiddendeepinherheart，andsheshrankbackstthesightofherownvileness。

Howcouldsherepairtheinjuryshehaddonehim？Howcouldshehealthewoundshehadinflicted？AnumberofguestscameuptogreetherandamongthemSyvertStein，abold—look—

ingyoungman，who，duringthatsummer，hadledherfrequentlyinthedance。Hehadasquareface，strongfeatures，andahugecropoftowyhair。Hisracewasfar—famedforwitanddaring。

"Tardyisyourwelcome，BorghildofSkogli，"

quothhe。"Butwhatafaintheartdoesnotgiveaboldhandcangrasp，andwhatIamnotofferedItakeunbidden。"

Sosaying，heflunghisarmaboutherwaist，liftedherfromthefloorandputherdowninthemiddleoftheroom。Trulsstoodandgazedatthemwithlarge，bewilderedeyes。Hetriedhardtodespisethebraggart，butendedwithenvyinghim。

"Ha，fiddler，strikeupatunethatshallringthroughmarrowandbone，"shoutedSyvertStein，whostruckthefloorwithhisheelsandmovedhisbodytothemeasureofaspring—dance。

Trulsstillfollowedthemwithhiseyes;

suddenlyheleapedup，andawildthoughtburnedinhisbreast。Butwithanefforthecheckedhimself，graspedhisviolin，andstruckawailingchordoflament。Thenhelaidhisearclosetotheinstrument，asifhewerelisteningtosomelivingvoicehiddentherewithin，ranwa—

rilywiththebowoverthestrings，andwarbled，andcaroled，andsangwithmaddeningglee，andstillwithashiveringundercurrentofwoe。Andtheduskwhichsleptupontheblackrafterswasquickenedandshookwiththeweirdsound;

everypulseinthewidehallbeatmorerapidly，andeveryeyekindledwithabolderfire。

Pressently{sic}aStrongmalevoicesangouttothemeasureoftheviolin：

"Come，fairestmaid，treadthedancewithme;

Oheighho！"

Andaclear，tremuloustrebleanswered：

"SogladlytreadIthedancewiththee;

Oheighho！"

Trulsknewthevoicesonlytoowell;itwasSyvertSteinandBorghildwhoweresingingastave。[8]

[8]Astaveisanimprovisedresponsivesong。ItisanancientpastimeinNorway，andiskeptupuntilthisday，especiallyamongthepeasantry。

Thestudents，also，attheirsocialgatherings，throwimprovisedrhymestoeachotheracrossthetable，andtherestofthecompanyrepeattherefrain。

Syvert——Likebrier—rosesthyredcheeksblush，Borghild——Andthineareroughlikethethornybush;

Both——An’aheigho！

Syvert——Sofreshandgreenisthesunnylea;

Oheighho！

Borghild——Thefiddletwangethsomerrily;

Oheighho！

Syvert——Solightlygoeththelustyreel，Borghild——Androundwewhirllikeaspinning—wheel;

Both——An’aheigho！

Syvert——Thineeyesarebrightlikethesunnyfjord;

Oheighho！

Borghild——AndthinedoflashlikeaViking’ssword;

Oheighho！

Syvert——Solightlytrippeththyfootalong，Borghild——Theairisteemingwithjoyfulsong;

Both——An’aheighho！

Syvert——Thenfairestmaid，whilethewoodsaregreen，Oheighho！

Borghild——Andthrushessingthefreshleavesbetween;

Oheighho！

Syvert——Come，letusdanceinthegladsomeday，Borghild——Dancehate，andsorrow，andcareaway;

Both——An’aheighho！

Thestavewasatanend。Thehotandflusheddancersstraggledoverthefloorbytwosandthrees，andthebigbeer—hornswerepassedfromhandtohand。Trulssatinhiscornerhugginghisviolintightlytohisbosom，onlytodosomething，forhewasvaguelyafraidofhimself——

afraidofthethoughtsthatmightrise——afraidofthedeedtheymightprompt。Heranhisfingersoverhisforehead，buthehardlyfeltthetouchofhisownhand。Itwasasifsomethingwasdeadwithinhim——asifastringhadsnappedinhisbreast，andleftitbenumbedandvoiceless。

PresentlyhelookedupandsawBorghildstandingbeforehim;sheheldherarmsakimbo，hereyesshonewithastrangelight，andherfeaturesworeanairofrecklessnessmingledwithpity。

"Ah，Borghild，isityou？"saidhe，inahoarsevoice。"Whatdoyouwantwithme？I

thoughtyouhaddonewithmenow。"

"Youareaveryunwittyfellow，"answeredshe，withaforcedlaugh。"Thebranchthatdoesnotbendmustbreak。"

Sheturnedquicklyonherheelandwaslostinthecrowd。Hesatlongponderingonherwords，buttheirmeaningremainedhiddentohim。Thebranchthatdoesnotbendmustbreak。Washethebranch，andmusthebendorbreak？By—and—byheputhishandsonhisknees，rosewithaslow，uncertainmotion，andstalkedheavilytowardthedoor。Thefreshnightairwoulddohimgood。ThethoughtbreathesmorebrisklyinGod’sfreenature，underthebroadcanopyofheaven。Thewhitemistrosefromthefields，andmadethevalleybelowappearlikeawhiteseawhosenearnessyoufeel，eventhoughyoudonotseeit。Andoutofthemistthedarkpinesstretchedtheirwarninghandsagainstthesky，andthemoonwasswimming，largeandplacid，betweensilveryislandsofcloud。Trulsbegantobeathisarmsagainsthissides，andfeltthewarmbloodspreadingfromhisheartandthawingthenumbnessofhislimbs。Notcaringwhitherhewent，hestruckthepathleadingupwardtothemountains。Hetooktohumminganoldairwhichhappenedtocomeintohishead，onlytotryiftherewaslifeenoughleftinhimtosing。

ItwastheballadofYoungKirstenandtheMerman：

"Thebillowsfallandthebillowsswell，Inthenightsolone，Inthebillowsbluedoththemermandwell，Andstrangelythatharpwassounding。"

Hewalkedonbrisklyforawhile，and，lookingbackuponthepainhehadenduredbutamomentago，hefounditquitefoolishandirrational。Anabsurdmerrimenttookpossessionofhim;butallthewhilehedidnotknowwherehisfootstepped;hisheadswam，andhispulsebeatfeverishly。Aboutmidwaybetweentheforestandthemansion，wherethefieldslopedmoresteeply，grewaclumpofbirch—trees，whoseslenderstemsglimmeredghostlywhiteinthemoonlight。SomethingdroveTrulstoleavethebeatenroad，and，obeyingtheimpulse，hesteeredtowardthebirches。Astrangesoundfelluponhisear，likethemoanofoneindistress。Itdidnotstartlehim;indeed，hewasinamoodwhennothingcouldhavecausedhimwonder。Iftheskyhadsuddenlytumbleddownuponhim，withmoonandall，hewouldhavetakenitasamatterofcourse。Peeringforamomentthroughthemist，hediscernedtheoutlineofahumanfigure。Withthreegreatstrideshereachedthebirch—tree;athisfeetsatBorghildrockingherselftoandfroandweepingpiteously。Withoutawordheseatedhimselfathersideandtriedtocatchaglimpseofherface;butshehiditfromhimandwentonsobbing。StilltherecouldbenodoubtthatitwasBorghild——onehouragosomerry，reckless，anddefiant，nowcoweringathisfeetandweepinglikeabroken—heartedchild。

"Borghild，"hesaid，atlast，puttinghisarmgentlyaboutherwaist，"youandI，Ithink，playedtogetherwhenwewerechildren。"

"Sowedid，Truls，"answeredshe，strugglingwithhertears。

"Andaswegrewup，wespentmanyapleasanthourwitheachother。"

"Manyapleasanthour。"

Sheraisedherhead，andhedrewhermorecloselytohim。

"ButsincethenIhavedoneyouagreatwrong，"beganshe，afterawhile。

"Nothingdonethatcannotyetbeundone，"

hetookhearttoanswer。

Itwaslongbeforeherthoughtstookshape，and，whenatlengththeydid，shedarednotgivethemutterance。Nevertheless，shewasallthetimeconsciousofonestrongdesire，fromwhichherconscienceshrankasfromacrime;

andshewrestledineffectuallywithherweaknessuntilherweaknessprevailed。

"Iamgladyoucame，"shefaltered。"I

knewyouwouldcome。TherewassomethingI

wishedtosaytoyou。"

"Andwhatwasit，Borghild？"

"Iwantedtoaskyoutoforgiveme——"

"Forgiveyou——"

Hesprangupasifsomethinghadstunghim。

"Andwhynot？"shepleaded，piteously。

"Ah，girl，youknownotwhatyouask，"

criedhe，withasternnesswhichstartledher。

"IfIhadmorethanonelifetowaste——butyoucaresswithonehandandstabwiththeother。

Faretheewell，Borghild，forhereourpathsseparate。"

Heturnedhisbackuponherandbegantodescendtheslope。

"ForGod’ssake，stay，Truls，"imploredshe，andstretchedherarmsappealinglytowardhim;

"tellme，oh，tellmeall。"

Withaleaphewasagainatherside，stoopeddownoverher，and，inahoarse，passionatewhisper，spokethesecretofhislifeinherear。

Shegazedforamomentsteadilyintohisface，then，inafewhurriedwords，shepledgedhimherlove，herfaith，herall。Andinthestillnessofthatsummernighttheyplannedtogethertheirflighttoagreaterandfreerland，wherenoworld—oldprejudicefrownedupontheunionoftwokindredsouls。Theywouldwaitinpatienceandsilenceuntilspring;thencomethefreshwindsfromtheocean，and，withthem，thebirdsofpassagewhichawakethelongingsintheNorsernen’sbreasts，andtheAmericanvesselswhichgivecouragetomanyasinkingspirit，strengthtotheweariedarm，hopetothehopelessheart。

DuringthatwinterTrulsandBorghildseldomsaweachother。Theparishwasfilledwithrumors，andaftertheChristmasholidayitwastoldforcertainthattheproudmaidenofSkoglihadbeenpromisedinmarriagetoSyvertStein。Itwasthegeneralbeliefthatthefamilieshadmadethematch，andthatBorghild，atleast，hadhardlyhadanyvoiceinthematter。

Anotherreportwasthatshehadflatlyrefusedtolistentoanyproposalfromthatquarter，andthat，whenshefoundthatresistancewasvain，shehadcriedthreedaysandthreenights，andrefusedtotakeanyfood。Whenthisrumorreachedthepastor’sear，hepronounceditanidletale;"for，"saidhe，"Borghildhasalwaysbeenaproperandwell—behavedmaiden，andsheknowsthatshemusthonorfatherandmother，thatitmaybewellwithher，andshelivelongupontheland。"

ButBorghildsataloneinhergablewindowandlookedlonginglytowardtheocean。Theglaciersglittered，theriversswelled，thebudsoftheforestburst，andgreatwhitesailsbegantoglimmeronthefarwesternhorizon。

IfTruls，theNameless，asscofferswerewonttocallhim，hadbeenagreaterpersonageinthevalley，itwould，nodoubt，haveshockedthegossipstoknowthatonefinemorninghesoldhiscow，hisgunandhisdog，andwrappedsixtysilverdollarsinaleathernbag，whichhesewedfasttothegirdleheworeabouthiswaist。ThatsamenightsomeonewasheardplayingwildlyupinthebirchcopseabovetheSkoglimansion;

nowitsoundedlikeawailofdistress，thenlikeafierce，defiantlaugh，andnowagainthemusicseemedtohushitselfintoaheart—broken，sorrowfulmoan，andthepeoplecrossedthemselves，andwhispered："OurFather;"butBorghildsatathergablewindowandlistenedlongtotheweirdstrain。Themidnightcame，butshestirrednot。

Withthehourofmidnightthemusicceased。

Fromthewindowsofhallandkitchenthelightstreamedoutintothedampair，andthedarknessstoodlikeawalloneitherside;within，maidsandladswerebusybrewing，baking，andwashing，forinaweektherewastobeaweddingonthefarm。

Theweekwentandtheweddingcame。

Trulshadnotclosedhiseyesallthatnight，andbeforedaybreakhesauntereddownalongthebeachandgazedoutuponthecalmfjord，wherethewhite—wingedsea—birdswhirledingreatairysurgesaroundthebarecrags。Farupabovethenoisythronganospraysailedontheblueexpanseofthesky，andquickasthoughtswoopeddownuponahalibutwhichhadventuredtotakeapeepattherisingsun。

Thehugefishstruggledforamomentatthewater’sedge，then，withapowerfulstrokeofitstail，whichsentthesprayhissingthroughtheair，divedbelowthesurface。Thebirdofpreygavealoudscream，flappedfiercelywithitsbroadwings，andforseveralminutesathickeningcloudofapplaudingducksandseagullsandshowersofsprayhidthecombatfromtheobserver’seye。Whenthebirdsscattered，theosprayhadvanished，andthewatersagainglitteredcalmlyinthemorningsun。Trulsstoodlong，vacantlystaringoutuponthesceneoftheconflict，andmanystrangethoughtswhirledthroughhishead。

"Halloo，fiddler！"criedacoupleofladswhohadcometocleartheweddingboats，"youareearlyonfootto—day。Hereisascoop。Comeonandhelpusbailtheboats。"

Trulstookthescoop，andlookedatitasifhehadneverseensuchathingbefore;hemovedaboutheavily，hardlyknowingwhathedid，butconsciousallthewhileofhisowngreatmisery。

Hislimbsseemedhalffrozen，andadullpaingatheredabouthisheadandinhisbreast——infact，everywhereandnowhere。

Aboutteno’clockthebridalprocessiondescendedtheslopetothefjord。SyvertStein，thebridegroom，trodtheearthwithafirm，springystep，andspokemanyacheerywordtothobride，whowalked，silentandwithdowncasteyes，athisside。Sheworetheancestralbridalcrownonherhead，andthelittlesilverdisksarounditsedgetinkledandshookasshewalked。Theyhailedherwithfiringofgunsandloudhurrahsasshesteppedintotheboat;

stillshedidnotraisehereyes，butremainedsilent。Asmallcannon，alsoanheir—loominthefamily，wasplacedamidships，andTruls，withhisviolin，tookhisseatintheprow。Alargesolitarycloud，gold—rimmedbutwiththunderinitsbreast，sailedacrosstheskyandthrewitsshadowoverthebridalboatasitwaspushedoutfromtheshore，andtheshadowfelluponthebride’scountenancetoo;andwhensheliftedit，themotherofthebridegroom，whosatoppositeher，shrankback，forthecountenancelookedhard，asifcarvedinstone——intheeyesamute，hopelessappeal;onthelipsafrozenprayer。Theshadowofthunderuponalifethatwasopening——itwasanillomen，anditsgloomsankintotheheartsoftheweddingguests。Theyspokeinundertonesandthrewpityingglancesatthebride。ThenatlengthSyvertSteinlosthispatience。

"Insooth，"criedhe，springingupfromhisseat，"whereisto—daythecheerthatiswonttoabideintheNorseman’sbreast？MethinksI

seebutsullenairsandill—bodingglances。Ha，fiddler，nowmoveyourstringslustily！Noneofyourfuneralairs，mylad，butamerrytunethatshallsingthroughmarrowandbone，andmaketheheartleapinthebosom。"

Trulsheardthewords，andinaslow，mechanicalwayhetooktheviolinoutofitscaseandraisedittohischin。Syvertinthemeanwhileputahugesilverbeer—jugtohismouth，and，pledginghisguests，emptiediteventothedregs。Butthebride’scheekwaspale;anditwassostillintheboatthateverymancouldhearhisownbreathing。

"Ha，to—dayisSyvertStein’swedding—day！"

shoutedthebridegroom，growinghotwithwrath。"Letustryiftheironvoiceofthecannoncanwakemyguestsfromtheirslumber。"

Hestruckamatchandputittothetouch—

holeofthecannon;alongboomrolledawayoverthesurfaceofthewatersandstartledtheechoesofthedistantglaciers。Afainthurrahsoundedfromthenearestcraft，buttherecamenoresponsefromthebridalboat。Syvertpulledthepowder—hornfromhispocket，laughedawildlaugh，andpouredthewholecontentsofthehornintothemouthofthecannon。

"Nowmaythedevilcareforhisown，"roaredhe，andsprangupupontherow—bench。Thentherecamealowmurmuringstrainasofwaveletsthatrippleagainstasandyshore。Borghildliftedhereyes，andtheymetthoseofthefiddler。

"Ah，IthinkIshouldratherbeyourbridegroom，"whisperedshe，andarayoflifestoleintoherstonyvisage。

Andshesawherselfasalittlerosy—cheekedgirlsittingathissideonthebeachfifteenyearsago。Butthemusicgatheredstrengthfromherglance，andonwarditrushedthroughthenoisyyearsofboyhood，shoutingwithwantonvoiceinthelonelyglen，lowingwiththecattleonthemountainpastures，andleapinglikethetroutateventideinthebrawlingrapids;butthroughitallthereranawarmstrainofboyishloyaltyandstrongdevotion，anditthawedherfrozenheart;forsheknewthatitwasallforherandforheronly。Anditseemedsuchabeautifulthing，thislongfaithfullife，whichthroughsorrowandjoy，throughsunshineandgloom，forbetterforworse，hadclungsofasttoher。Theweddingguestsraisedtheirheads，andamurmurofapplauseranoverthewaters。

"Bravo！"criedthebridegroom。"Nowatlastthetonguesareloosed。"

Truls’sgazedweltwithtendersadnessonthebride。Thencamefromthestringssomeairyquiveringchords，faintlyflushedlikethepetalsoftherose，andfragrantlikeliliesofthevalley;

andtheyswelledwithastrong，awakeninglife，androsewithastormyfullnessuntiltheyseemedonthepointofbursting，whenagaintheyhushedthemselvesandsankintoalow，disconsolatewhisper。Oncemorethetonesstretchedouttheirarmsimploringly，andagaintheywrestleddespairinglywiththemselves，fledwithasternvoiceofwarning，returnedoncemore，wept，shuddered，andweresilent。

"Bewarethatthoudostnotplaywithalife！"

sighedthebride，"eventhoughitbeaworthlessone。"

Theweddingguestsclappedtheirhandsandshoutedwildlyagainstthesky。Thebride’scountenanceburnedwithastrangefeverishglow。Thefiddleraroseintheprowoftheboat，hiseyesflamed，hestruckthestringsmadly，andtheairtrembledwithmelodiousrapture。Thevoiceofthatmusicnolivingtonguecaninterpret。Butthebridefathomeditsmeaning;herbosomlaboredvehemently，herlipsquiveredforaninstantconvulsively，andsheburstintotears。Adarksuspicionshotthroughthebridegroom’smind。

HestaredintentlyupontheweepingBorghildthenturnedhisgazetothefiddler，who，stillregardingher，stoodplaying，withahalf—frenziedlookandmotion。

"Youcursedwretch！"shriekedSyvert，andmadealeapovertwobenchestowhereTrulswasstanding。ItcamesounexpectedlythatTrulshadnotimetopreparefordefense;sohemerelystretchedoutthehandinwhichheheldtheviolintowardofftheblowwhichhesawwascoming;butSyverttoretheinstrumentfromhisgraspanddasheditagainstthecannon，and，asithappened，justagainstthetouch—hole。

Withatremendouscrashsomethingblackdartedthroughtheairandawhitesmokebroodedoverthebridalboat。Thebridegroomstoodpaleandstunned。AthisfeetlayBorghild——

layforamomentstill，asiflifeless，thenroseonherelbows，andadarkredcurrentbrokefromherbreast。Thesmokescattered。

Noonesawhowitwasdone;butamomentlaterTruls，theNameless，laykneelingatBorghild’sside。

"ItWASaworthlesslife，beloved，"whisperedhe，tenderly。"Nowitisatanend。"

Andheliftedherupinhisarmsasoneliftsabelovedchild，pressedakissonherpalelips，andleapedintothewater。Likeleadtheyfellintothesea。Athrongofwhitebubbleswhirleduptothesurface。Aloudwailrosefromthebridalfleet，andbeforethedaywasatanenditfilledthevalley;butthewaildidnotrecallTruls，theNameless，orBorghildhisbride。

Whatlifedeniedthem，wouldtoGodthatdeathmayyieldthem！

ASATHOR’SVENGEANCE。

I。

ITwasrightupunderthesteelmountainwallwherethefarmofKvaerklay。Howanymanofcommonsensecouldhavehitupontheideaofbuildingahousethere，wherenonebutthegoatandthehawkhadeasyaccess，hadbeen，andIamafraidwouldeverbe，amatterofwondertotheparishpeople。However，itwasnotLageKvaerkwhohadbuiltthehouse，sohecouldhardlybemaderesponsibleforitssituation。Moreover，tomovefromaplacewhereone’slifehasoncestruckdeeproot，evenifitbeinthechinksandcrevicesofstonesandrocks，isaboutthesameastodestroyit。Anoldtreegrowsbutpoorlyinanewsoil。SoLageKvaerkthought，andsohesaid，too，wheneverhiswifeElsiespokeofhersunnyhomeattheriver。

GloomyasLageusuallywas，hehadhisbrightermoments，andpeoplenoticedthattheseweremostlikelytooccurwhenAasa，hisdaughter，wasnear。LagewasprobablyalsotheonlybeingwhomAasa’spresencecouldcheer;onotherpeopleitseemedtohavetheveryoppositeeffect;forAasawas——accordingtothetestimonyofthosewhoknewher——themostpeculiarcreaturethateverwasborn。Butperhapsnoonedidknowher;ifherfatherwasright，noonereallydid——atleastnoonebuthimself。

Aasawasalltoherfather;shewashispastandshewashisfuture，hishopeandhislife;

andwithalitmustbeadmittedthatthosewhojudgedherwithoutknowingherhadatleastinonerespectasjustanopinionofherashe;fortherewasnodenyingthatshewasstrange，verystrange。Shespokewhensheoughttobesilent，andwassilentwhenitwaspropertospeak;weptwhensheoughttolaugh，andlaughedwhenitwaspropertoweep;butherlaughteraswellashertears，herspeechlikehersilence，seemedtohavetheirsourcefromwithinherownsoul，tobeoccasioned，asitwere，bysomethingwhichnooneelsecouldseeorhear。

Itmadelittledifferencewhereshewas;ifthetearscame，sheyieldedtothemasiftheyweresomethingshehadlongdesiredinvain。Fewcouldweeplikeher，and"weeplikeAasaKvaerk，"wassoonalsoaddedtothestockofparishproverbs。Andthenherlaugh！Tearsmaybeinopportuneenough，whentheycomeoutoftime，butlaughterisfarworse;andwhenpoorAasaonceburstoutintoaringinglaughterinchurch，andthatwhiletheministerwaspronouncingthebenediction，itwasonlywiththegreatestdifficultythatherfathercouldpreventtheindignantcongregationfromseizingherandcarryingherbeforethesheriffforviolationofthechurch—peace。Hadshebeenpoorandhomely，thenofcoursenothingcouldhavesavedher;butshehappenedtobebothrichandbeautiful，andtowealthandbeautymuchispardoned。Aasa’sbeauty，however，wasalsoofaveryunusualkind;notthetamesweetnesssocommoninhersex，butsomethingofthebeautyofthefalcon，whenitswoopsdownupontheunwatchfulsparroworsoarsroundthelonelycrags;somethingofthemysticdepthofthedarktarn，whenwithbodefultremblingyougazedownintoit，andseeitsweirdtraditionsrisefromitsdepthandhoveroverthepine—topsinthemorningfog。Yet，Aasawasnotdark;

herhairwasasfairandyellowasawheat—fieldinAugust，herforeheadhighandclear，andhermouthandchinasifcutwithachisel;onlyhereyeswereperhapssomewhatdeeperthaniscommonintheNorth，andthelongeryoulookedatthemthedeepertheygrew，justlikethetarn，which，ifyoustarelongenoughintoit，youwillfindisasdeepastheheavensabove，thatis，whosedepthonlyfaithandfancycanfathom。ButhoweverlongyoulookedatAasa，youcouldneverbequitesurethatshelookedatyou;sheseemedbuttohalfnoticewhateverwentonaroundher;thelookofhereyewasalwaysmorethanhalfinward，andwhenitshonethebrightest，itmightwellhappenthatshecouldnothavetoldyouhowmanyyearsshehadlived，orthenameherfathergaveherinbaptism。

NowAasawaseighteenyearsold，andcouldknit，weave，andspin，anditwasfulltimethatwooersshouldcome。"Butthatistheconsequenceoflivinginsuchanout—of—the—wayplace，"saidhermother;"whowillriskhislimbstoclimbthatneck—breakingrock？andtheround—aboutwayovertheforestisrathertoolongforawooer。"Besideshandlingtheloomandthespinning—wheel，Aasahadalsolearnedtochurnandmakecheesetoperfection，andwheneverElsiegrievedatherstrangebehaviorshealwaysintheendconsoledherselfwiththereflectionthatafterallAasawouldmakethemanwhoshouldgetheranexcellenthousewife。

ThefarmofKvaerkwasindeedmostsingularlysituated。Aboutahundredfeetfromthehousetheroughwallofthemountainrosesteepandthreatening;andthemostremarkablepartofitwasthattherockitselfcavedinwardandformedaloftyarchoverhead，whichlookedlikeahugedoorleadingintothemountain。Someshortdistancebelow，theslopeofthefieldsendedinanabruptprecipice;farunderneathlaytheotherfarm—housesofthevalley，scatteredlikesmallredorgraydots，andtheriverwoundonwardlikeawhitesilverstripeintheshelteroftheduskyforest。Therewasapathdownalongtherock，whichagoatorabriskladmightbeinducedtoclimb，iftheprizeoftheexperimentweregreatenoughtojustifythehazard。ThecommonroadtoKvaerkmadealargecircuitaroundtheforest，andreachedthevalleyfarupatitsnorthernend。

ItwasdifficulttogetanythingtogrowatKvaerk。Inthespringallthevalleylaybareandgreen，beforethesnowhadbeguntothinkofmeltingupthere;andthenight—frostwouldbesuretomakeavisitthere，whilethefieldsalongtheriverlaysilentlydrinkingthesummerdew。OnsuchoccasionsthewholefamilyatKvaerkwouldhavetostayupduringallthenightandwalkbackandforthoneithersideofthewheat—fields，carryingalongropebetweenthemanddraggingitslowlyovertheheadsoftherye，topreventthefrostfromsettling;foraslongastheearscouldbekeptinmotion，theycouldnotfreeze。ButwhatdidthriveatKvaerkinspiteofbothsnowandnight—frostwaslegends，andtheythroveperhapsthebetterfortheverysterilityofitsmaterialsoil。Aasaofcoursehadheardthemallandknewthembyheart;theyhadbeenherfriendsfromchildhood，andheronlycompanions。Alltheservants，however，alsoknewthemandmanyothersbesides，andiftheywereaskedhowthemansionofKvaerkhappenedtobebuiltlikeaneagle’snestonthebrinkofaprecipice，theywouldtellyouthefollowing：

SaintOlaf，Norway’sholyking，inthetimeofhisyouthhadsailedasaVikingoverthewideocean，andinforeignlandshadlearnedthedoctrineofChristtheWhite。Whenhecamehometoclaimthethroneofhishereditarykingdom，hebroughtwithhimtapersandblackpriests，andcommandedthepeopletooverthrowthealtarsofOdinandThorandtobelievealoneinChristtheWhite。Ifanystilldaredtoslaughterahorsetotheoldgods，hecutofftheirears，burnedtheirfarms，anddrovethemhouselessfromthesmokingruins。HereinthevalleyoldThor，or，astheycalledhim，Asathor，hadalwayshelpedustovengeanceandvictory，andgentleFreyformanyyearshadgivenusfairandfertilesummers。ThereforethepeasantspaidlittleheedtoKingOlaf’sgod，andcontinuedtobringtheirofferingstoOdinandAsathor。Thisreachedtheking’sear，andhesummonedhisbishopandfiveblackpriests，andsetouttovisitourvalley。Havingarrivedhere，hecalledthepeasantstogether，stoodupontheTing—stone，toldthemofthegreatthingsthattheWhiteChristhaddone，andbadethemchoosebetweenhimandtheoldgods。Somewerescared，andreceivedbaptismfromtheking’spriests;othersbittheirlipsandweresilent;othersagainstoodforthandtoldSaintOlafthatOdinandAsathorhadalwaysservedthemwell，andthattheywerenotgoingtogivethemupforChristtheWhite，whomtheyhadneverseenandofwhomtheyknewnothing。

Thenextnighttheredcockcrew[9]overtenfarmsinthevalley，andithappenedtohetheirswhohadspokenagainstKingOlaf’sgod。ThenthepeasantsflockedtotheTing—stoneandreceivedthebaptismofChristtheWhite。Somefew，whohadmightykinsmenintheNorth，fledandspreadtheeviltidings。Onlyoneneitherflednorwasbaptized，andthatonewasLageUlfsonKvaerk，theancestorofthepresentLage。HeslewhisbeststeedbeforeAsathor’saltar，andpromisedtogivehimwhateverheshouldask，eventohisownlife，ifhewouldsavehimfromthevengeanceoftheking。Asathorheardhisprayer。Asthesunset，astormsprungupwiththickdarknessandgloom，theearthshook，Asathordrovehischariotovertheheavenswithdeafeningthunderandswunghishammerrightandleft，andthecracklinglightningflewthroughtheairlikeahail—stormoffire。Thenthepeasantstrembled，fortheyknewthatAsathorwaswroth。Onlythekingsatcalmandfearlesswithhisbishopandpriests，quaffingthenut—brownmead。Thetempestrageduntilmorn。Whenthesunrose，SaintOlafcalledhishundredswains，sprangintothesaddleandrodedowntowardtheriver。Fewmenwhosawtheangryfireinhiseye，andthefrownonhisroyalbrow，doubtedwhitherhewasbound。Buthavingreachedtheford，awondroussightmethiseye。WhereonthedaybeforethehighwayhadwounditselfuptheslopetowardLageKvaerk’smansion，laynowawildravine;therockwasshatteredintoathousandpieces，andadeepgorge，asifmadebyasinglestrokeofahugehammer，separatedthekingfromhisenemy。ThenSaintOlafmadethesignofthecross，andmumbledthenameofChristtheWhite;buthishundredswainsmadethesignofthehammerundertheircloaks，andthought，StillisAsathoralive。

[9]"Theredcockcrew"istheexpressionusedintheoldNorwegianFagasforincendiaryfire。

ThatsamenightLageUlfsonKvaerkslewablackram，andthankedAsathorforhisdeliverance;

andtheSagatellsthatwhilehewassprinklingthebloodonthealtar，thethunderinggodhimselfappearedtohim，andwilderhelookedthanthefiercestwildTurk。Rams，saidhe，wereevery—dayfare;theycouldredeemnopromise。Brynhild，hisdaughter，wastherewardAsathordemanded。Lageprayedandbesoughthimtoaskforsomethingelse。Hewouldgladlygivehimoneofhissons;forhehadthreesons，butonlyonedaughter。Asathorwasimmovable;butsolongLagecontinuedtobeg，thatatlastheconsentedtocomebackinayear，whenLageperchancewouldbebetterreconciledtothethoughtofBrynhild’sloss。

InthemeantimeKingOlafbuiltachurchtoChristtheWhiteontheheadlandattheriver，whereitstandsuntilthisday。Everyevening，whenthehugebellrumbledbetweenthemountains，theparishionersthoughttheyheardheavy，half—chokedsighsoverintherocksatKvaerk;

andonSundaymornings，whentheclear—voicedchimescalledthemtohigh—mass，asuppressedmoanwouldminglewiththesoundofthebells，anddieawaywiththelastecho。LageUlfsonwasnotthemantobeafraid;yetthechurch—

bellsmanyatimedrovethebloodfromhischeeks;

forhealsoheardthemoanfromthemountain。