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 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
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 Mnw^nii. Hwnii. ,t
 
 W) %,uiL
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN 
 
 By BJORNSTJERNE BJORNSON 
 
 given in english 
 By JULIE SUTTER 
 
 Hottlion 
 
 MACMILLAN & CO. 
 i88t
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Amid the Norwegian valleys there are fa- 
 voured spots of lowlands rising into gentle 
 eminence, lying open to the sunlight from 
 the first of the ruddy dawn to the last beam 
 gilding the west. People who live more in 
 the shadow of the hills, having less of the 
 sun, call such a spot a " sunnyside." * She 
 of whom this story tells lived on such a 
 sunnyside, from which the farm also took its 
 name. There the snow remained latest in 
 the autumn, and melted sooner than else- 
 where in the spring. 
 
 ^ vSolbakke. 
 B 

 
 2 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 The owners of the farm were Haugeans/ 
 the people called them "readers," because 
 they read the Bible more diligently than 
 their neighbours. The man's name was 
 Guttorm, the wife's Karen. They had a 
 boy, but he died, and for three years they 
 shunned that part of the church where the 
 font stood. Then they had a little girl, 
 whom they called after the boy. His name 
 had been Syvcrt, and she was christened 
 Synnov, this being the nearest in sound they 
 could think of. But the mother changed it 
 to Synnove, because she used to say to the 
 baby, Synnove mine, and she thought this 
 was easier than Synnov mine. However 
 that may be, the girl grew up to be called 
 Synnove by everybody who knew her ; and 
 the people said that in the memory of men 
 there had not been a lovelier girl in the 
 valley than Synnove Solbakken. 
 
 She was very small when the parents 
 
 ' So calkil aficr llaugc (177 1 1824), llic fouiulcr of 
 a religious sect.
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 3 
 
 began to take her with them to church on 
 preaching-Sundays, although the Httle thing 
 scarcely understood more than that the 
 Pastor seemed to be scolding down upon 
 Jail-Ben, as people called him, because he 
 had been to prison once, and who now sat 
 just beneath the pulpit. But the father 
 wished the child to go that she might " get 
 used to going," and the mother wished it too, 
 for " one could not tell what might happen 
 to her at home." If any creature on the farm, 
 a lamb, or a kid, or a sucking pig, would not 
 thrive, or if a cow ailed, it was made over 
 to Synndve, and called her property; and 
 the mother maintained that the animals were 
 sure to do well from that moment. The 
 father did not quite believe in the remedy, 
 but " it did not matter which of them owned 
 the beasts, provided that they throve." 
 
 On the opposite side of the valley, and 
 close to the foot of the mountain, lay the 
 farm Granliden,' so called because it was 
 ' Fir side.
 
 4 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 surrounded by a forest of fir-trees, the only 
 fir wood far and wide. The great-grand- 
 father of the present owner had been with a 
 regiment, quartered in Holstein, to fight the 
 Russians ; and from this, to them distant 
 country he had brought home in his knap- 
 sack a quantity of foreign seeds. These he 
 sowed all round the farm, but in course of 
 time the plants died off; a few fir cones, 
 however, which had chanced to be among 
 his treasures, took root, grew and multiplied, 
 spreading into a forest which now on all 
 sides overshadowed the farm. 
 
 The man who had been to Holstein was 
 called after his grandfather Thorbjorn ; his 
 own eldest son he called after his father 
 Samund ; in fact, the owners of this farm, as 
 far back as memorj^ would reach, had always 
 been Thorbjorns and Samunds in turn. But 
 people said that at Granliden only every 
 other owner was happy, and that was not he 
 who bore the name of Thorbjorn. When 
 the present owner, Samund, came to christen
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 5 
 
 his eldest boy he considered long ; but after 
 all he did not quite like to break with the 
 time-honoured family custom, and the boy 
 was called Thorbjorn. Then he considered 
 whether the boy could not be so brought up 
 that he might be saved from the trouble 
 which tradition and the talk of the people 
 seemed to make sure of for him. Of this 
 he did not feel certain, but he thought to 
 observe an unruly spirit in the boy. " This 
 must be thrashed out of him," said he to the 
 mother ; and when Thorbjorn was barely 
 three years old, the father made a point of 
 sitting down, birch-rod in hand, making the 
 boy carry back to its place every log of wood 
 he had flung about, or forcing him to stroke 
 the cat which he had pinched. But the 
 mother would leave the room when the 
 father was in one of these moods. 
 
 Samund used to w^onder why the boy 
 needed more and more correction the older 
 he grew, and this in spite of the great severity 
 with which he brought him up. Very early
 
 6 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 the father made him take to his speUing- 
 book, and then took him about on the farm 
 with him, that he might have an eye to his 
 doings. The mother had a large household 
 to look after, and small babies besides ; she 
 could do no more than kiss the child and 
 give him good admonition when she helped 
 him to dress in the morning, and speak 
 lovingly to the father when they all sat 
 together on Sundays or other times of rest. 
 But when Thorbjorn was beaten because a b 
 did not spell ba, but ab, or when he was not 
 allowed to thrash little Ingrid as the father 
 thrashed him, he used to think within him- 
 self : " Why should I have all the blows, when 
 my little brothers and sisters get none !" 
 
 As he generally went about with the father, 
 and rather stood in awe of him, he spoke 
 little, but not because he thought little. 
 Once, however, when they were busy drying 
 the hay, he ventured the question : — 
 
 " Why is it that at Solbakken the hay is 
 always in long before ours ?"
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 7 
 
 " Because they have more sun than we." 
 
 Then for the first time the thought struck 
 him that he himself was outside the sunshine 
 which seemed to be over there, and which 
 he had liked to watch ever since he could 
 remember. And from that day he gazed at 
 Solbakken even oftener than before. 
 
 " What are you staring at? " said the father, 
 and gave him a push. " We must work 
 down here, young and old, if we are to get 
 along." 
 
 When Thorbjorn was about seven or eight 
 years old, his father engaged a new farm lad, 
 whose name was Aslak, and who had been 
 about the world a good deal already, although 
 he was but a boy. When he arrived it was 
 evening, and the children were in bed ; but 
 the following morning, when Thorbjorn sat 
 at his lessons, somebody flung the door open 
 with such a noise as he had never heard 
 before. It was Aslak coming in with a big 
 armful of firewood, which he threw down so 
 as to send the logs flying in all directions
 
 8 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 over the floor, himself stamping and jumping 
 to shake off the snow, yeUing out as he did 
 so : — 
 
 " It is cold, said the bride of the goblin ; 
 and the ice covered her to the chin." 
 
 The father was not at home, but the 
 mother swept the snow together and carried 
 it out, saying nothing. 
 
 " And what arc you looking at?" demanded 
 Aslak of Thorbjorn. 
 
 " Nothing," said the little boy, for he was 
 afraid. 
 
 " Have you seen the cock at the end of 
 your book?" 
 
 « Yes," 
 
 " He has a lot of hens about him when 
 the book is closed — have you seen that V 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Then look ! " 
 
 The little boy looked. 
 
 " You silly donkey," said Aslak. 
 
 But from that day no one had such power 
 over him as Aslak.
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 9 
 
 " You know nothing at all," said Aslak one 
 day to Thorbjorn, who, as usual, was follow- 
 ing him about to see what he was doing. 
 
 " Yes, I do ; I can say the catechism 
 almost through." 
 
 " Rubbish ! you don't even know the story 
 of the goblin who danced with the girl till 
 the sun went down, and then burst like a 
 calf that has drunk butter-milk." 
 
 Never in his life had Thorbjorn heard 
 such learning. 
 
 " Where was it ? " he asked. 
 
 " Where ? . . . oh, let me see . . . why, 
 yes, it was over there at Solbakken." 
 
 Thorbjorn stared. 
 
 " And I suppose you never heard of the 
 man who sold his soul to the devil for a pair 
 of old boots ? " 
 
 Thorbjorn, amazed, could not answer. 
 
 *' I daresay you would like to know where 
 ///a/ was — wouldn't you? .... That, too, 
 happened at Solbakken, just there, close by 
 the brook which you can see. . . . Bless
 
 lo SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 me ! " he continued after a while, " your 
 education has been most dreadfully ne- 
 glected ! I suppose you never heard of the 
 Kari who wore a wooden petticoat?" 
 
 No j he had never heard of her. 
 
 And Aslak, working away merrily, talked 
 away more merrily still — wonderful stories 
 of Kari who wore the wooden petticoat ; of 
 the mill which ground the salt at the bottom 
 of the sea ; of the goblin who was caught by 
 the beard in an alder tree ; of the seven 
 green damsels pulling the hairs out of Lazy 
 John's calves, who wanted to wake up but 
 could not; — and all these things had actually 
 happened at Solbakken. 
 
 " What on earth has come over the boy?" 
 said the mother the following day, which 
 chanced to be Sunday ; " since the early 
 morning he has not moved from the window, 
 staring away at Solbakken." 
 
 " Yes, he seems wonderfully taken up," 
 said the father, stretching himself as he en- 
 joyed the (lay of rest.
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. ii 
 
 " People say he is engaged to be manned 
 to Synnové Solbakken," remarked Aslak 
 quietly ; " but people do talk !" 
 
 Thorbjorn did not quite know what he 
 meant, yet he grew red all over the face. 
 
 And as Aslak jeered at this, he crept 
 down from the window, took his catechism, 
 and began to learn assiduously. 
 
 "That's right!" said Aslak, "console 
 yourself with the Christian's duty, for you'll 
 never get her." 
 
 As the week advanced, Thorbjorn thought 
 the matter might be forgotten. And he 
 asked his mother — rather softly, for he felt 
 as though he ought to be ashamed — 
 
 " Mother, who is Synnové Solbakken?" 
 
 " That's a little girl who one day will 
 become the mistress of Solbakken. " 
 
 " Does she wear a wooden petticoat?" 
 
 The mother opened her eyes. 
 
 "Wear what?" she asked. 
 
 He thought he must have said something 
 silly, and did not repeat it.
 
 12 SYNXOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 " There has never been a more beautiful 
 child than Synnové," continued the mother ; 
 " and no doubt God made her so because 
 she is always good and obedient and mindful 
 of her lessons." 
 
 Well, that too was information. 
 
 One day when Samund'had been working 
 on the farm with Aslak, he said to Thorbjorn 
 in the evening : 
 
 " I won't have you holding any more 
 intercourse with that boy." 
 
 But Thorbjorn did not seem to remember 
 the injunction. A few days later the com- 
 mand was therefore strengthened : 
 
 " If I see you again with him you'll catch 
 it!" 
 
 And then Thorbjorn grew cautious, and 
 only talked with Aslak wlien he thought the 
 father did not see. But the father did see 
 — Thorbjorn had a thrashing, and was sent 
 indoors. After this he tried to meet Aslak 
 only when he knew the father to be from 
 home.
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 13 
 
 One Sunday, when the father had gone to 
 church, Thorbjorn enjoyed what he con- 
 sidered his Uberty at home. He and Aslak 
 pelted each other with snowballs. 
 
 " Please, you are hurting me," said Thor- 
 bjorn after some play ; " let's throw them at 
 something else." 
 
 Aslak was agreeable ; they sent the balls 
 flying, first towards a small fir tree which 
 grew by the storehouse, then towards the 
 door, and at last towards the window of the 
 store-room. 
 
 " Not the window itself," explained Aslak, 
 " only against the framework." 
 
 But Thorbjorn caught a pane and looked 
 terrified. 
 
 "Stupid! who'll know it?" said Aslak; 
 " take better aim." 
 
 Thorbjorn sent another ball — a second 
 time cracking the glass. 
 
 " Now I shall stop," he said. 
 
 At this moment his sister next in age, 
 little Ingrid, came from the house.
 
 14 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 "Throw it at her!'' 
 
 Thorbjorn took the hint ; the girl began 
 to cry, which brought the mother to the 
 scene. She forbade the snowballing. 
 
 "Throw it ! throw it !" said Aslak under 
 his breath. 
 
 Thorbjorn's blood was up — he threw the 
 ball. 
 
 " Are you beside yourself, boy?" exclaimed 
 the mother, turning on him ; but he ran away, 
 and she after him round the house. Aslak 
 looked on, grinning. At last the mother 
 caught Thorbjorn on a snow heap, intending 
 to punish him. 
 
 " If you strike — I'll strike back — that I 
 will ! " 
 
 The mother's hand dropped ; she stood 
 aghast. 
 
 " This is the other's teaching," she said, 
 — took him by the hand quietly, and drew 
 him after her within doors. Not a word 
 further did she address to him, but as she 
 occujned herself with his little brothers and
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 15 
 
 sisters he heard her say that now the father 
 would soon be coming home from church. 
 The room grew hotter and hotter till it felt 
 stifling. Aslak asked leave to go and see an 
 acquaintance of his ; permission was at once 
 given. Thorbjorn's spirit sank more and 
 more; it seemed an awful look-out, an agony 
 of terror eating away at his heart. All around 
 him appeared to know what was coming; the 
 very clock kept on saying : " Catch — blows, 
 catch — blows ! " and no help for it He 
 climbed the window sill and looked over to 
 Solbakken. There it was, lonely and restful, 
 covered with snow, yet ever beaming in the 
 sunlight, which glowed and glowed till every 
 window wore a smile — no panes could have 
 been broken there ! How boldly the smoke 
 ascended from the chimney ; they, too, would 
 be getting dinner ready for those who had 
 gone to church. And Synnové? — she also 
 would be looking for her father, but surely 
 no blows were in store for her when he came 
 home. He did not know what to do with
 
 i6 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 himself ; but he grew tenderly demonstrative 
 towards his little sisters. Towards Ingrid 
 especially he felt so moved that he presented 
 her with a bright brass button which Aslak 
 had given him. She kissed him for it, and 
 he put his arms round her. 
 
 " Dear little Ingrid, are you angry with 
 me ?" 
 
 " No, Thorbjorn, dear ! And you may 
 throw as many snowballs at me as you like." 
 
 There was a noise outside the door, some- 
 body stamping about to get clear of the 
 snow. The door opened — it was the father ! 
 He looked mild, and most benevolent, which 
 seemed worse than a frown. 
 
 " Well ? " he said, looking about ; and 
 Thorbjorn would not have thought it strange 
 to see the tell-tale clock come down bodily 
 from the wall. 
 
 The mother put his dinner on the table. 
 
 " Well ! and how have things been going 
 on here ? " asked the father, possessing him- 
 self of a spoon.
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 17 
 
 Thorbjorn looked at the mother, and saw 
 her double in his rising tears. 
 
 " Oh — very well," she answered slowly ; 
 yes, she was going to say more, he knew it. 
 " I gave Aslak permission to go out," she 
 added quietly. 
 
 " Now, it is coming," thought Thorbjorn, 
 and began to play with Ingrid with an ear- 
 nestness as if there was nothing in the world 
 besides. 
 
 The father had never been such a time 
 over his dinner ! At last Thorbjorn began 
 to count his mouthfuls, and then he tried 
 how much he could count between the fourth 
 and fifth mouthful, which brought his figures 
 to a muddle, and he gave it up. The father 
 rose and went out. " The panes — the panes," 
 the clock was saying. He looked if those 
 in the room w^ere all right. Yes — none were 
 broken there. But now the mother, too, 
 left the room. Thorbjorn took Httle Ingrid 
 on his knees, and said to her so gently that 
 she looked at him astonished : 
 
 h c
 
 i8 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 " Shall we play ' Gold-King of the Mea- 
 dow,' — shall we, dear ? " 
 
 Yes, she would like it ; and he sang, his 
 knees knocking together with anguish : — 
 
 " Little flower, meadow-sweet, 
 Listen to my say : 
 If thou wilt be my little bride 
 I'll give myself and more beside, 
 A cloak of gold, 
 And it shall hold 
 A pearl untold. 
 Ditteli, dutteli, di— 
 The sun shines well on high ! " 
 
 To which the little girl made answer : 
 
 " Gold-King of the meadow, 
 Listen to my say : 
 I will not be thy little bride 
 And do not want thy gifts beside. 
 No cloak of gold 
 That could infold 
 A pearl untold. 
 Ditteli, dutteli, di— 
 The sun shines well on high ! " 
 
 Lut just as they were in the best of their 
 play the fatlicr re-entered the room, looking
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. i9 
 
 hard at Thorbjorn. He caught Ingrid 
 tighter in his arms, and actually did not fall 
 from his chair. The father turned away 
 without saying a word. Half-an-hour went 
 by, and yet he had said nothing. Thorbjorn 
 almost began to feel well again — if only 
 he dared. Yet when the evening came, and 
 the father himself helped to undress the boy, 
 his heart again misgave him. What was 
 this ? the father patting his head, and strok- 
 ing his cheeks ! He had not done this as 
 long as the boy could remember. He felt 
 a warmth stealing about his heart, and 
 throughout his body, which made his fears 
 melt away as ice when the sun is shining. 
 He hardly knew how he got into bed ; and 
 as he could neither sing nor scream for joy, 
 he folded his hands quietly over his heart, 
 and repeated very softly the Lord's Prayer 
 six times forwards and six times backwards, 
 and thought, as he fell asleep, that after all 
 on God's wide earth there was no one he 
 loved better than his own dear father.
 
 20 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 In the morning he woke with a terrible 
 sensation, as though he wanted to scream 
 but could not ; surely now the thrashing 
 was coming! Opening his eyes he was 
 relieved to find that he had been dreaming ; 
 yet he discovered that punishment was at 
 hand, not for him but for Aslak. Samund 
 marched up and down the room ; Thorbjorn 
 knew that sort of walking. The strong 
 man — he was rather short, but well built — 
 looked from time to time towards Aslak, 
 and there was no mistaking those looks. 
 Aslak, pretending the greatest unconcern, 
 sat astride on a cask with' his hands in his 
 trouser pockets, and wearing a cap squashed 
 down over his forehead, his dark hair ap- 
 pearing in knotty lumps from under it. 
 With his head bent to one shoulder the wry 
 mouth looked more crooked than ever, and 
 from his half-closed eyes he shot sidelong 
 glances at Samund. 
 
 " Yes," he .said at last, " this boy of 
 yours seems (juite an idiul ; but what is
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 21 
 
 worse for the present is that your horse is 
 bewitched." 
 
 Samund stopped short : 
 
 " You impertinent rascal," said he, with 
 a voice that resounded through the room, 
 and he resumed his walking. Aslak shut 
 his eyes more closely, and sat quiet for a 
 while. 
 
 " The animal really is bewitched," and he 
 gave a squint at his master to watch the 
 effect of this further assertion. 
 
 " Bewitched in the wood, yes," said Sa- 
 mund, walking on, " It's your doing, and 
 nobody else's, you good-for-nothing rascal — 
 no wonder he will not go quietly ! " 
 
 Aslak mused awhile. 
 
 " You may believe as you please ! Faith 
 hurts no man's soul, but I doubt whether it 
 will cure the animal " — he pushed himself 
 back on the cask and covered his face, 
 holding up one arm. 
 
 Samund indeed was coming towards him, 
 saying in a low but ominous tone :
 
 22 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 " You are a miserable " 
 
 " Samund ! " called a voice from the 
 hearth. It was Ingeborg, his wife, coming 
 up to calm him, quieting at the same time 
 the baby that was crying with fear. The 
 child yielded, and so did Samund ; but 
 clenching his fist, which was rather small 
 for such a strong -knit man, he thrust it 
 under Aslak's nose, holding it there while 
 he fixed him with a look that spoke his 
 mind. Then he paced about again without 
 taking his eye from the culprit. Aslak was 
 pale ; yet he managed to grin towards 
 Thorbjorn with one side of his face, while 
 the other side, being turned towards Sa- 
 mund, kept its rigid appearance. 
 
 *' The good God give us patience," he 
 said calmly, yet holding up his arms as if 
 warding off a blow. 
 
 Samund stood before him ; and stamping 
 the ground with a vehemence that sent 
 Aslak flying from his seat, he called out 
 with the full power of his lungs :
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 23 
 
 " Do not name Him, you !" 
 
 Ingeborg with the baby in her arm had 
 flown to her husband and touched him 
 gently. He did not look at her, but his 
 arm fell. She sat down again ; the husband 
 betook himself to walking about; no one 
 spoke, till Aslak, feeling the pressure of 
 silence, began afresh : 
 
 "Jlim/ I should say there is plenty for 
 Him to mend at Granliden." 
 
 " Samund ! Samund ! " entreated Inge- 
 borg. But Samund had already caught 
 hold of Aslak, although he had put out a 
 leg this time to intercept the blow. The 
 fellow, caught up by the collar and held 
 fast by the leg, was flung with such force 
 against the closed door that the panel gave 
 way, and he himself turning a somersault 
 flew through the sudden aperture. The 
 mother, Thorbjorn, indeed all the children 
 screamed and begged mercy for him — the 
 house was filled with groans and terror. 
 But Samund was after him ; without as
 
 24 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 much as thinking of opening what remained 
 of the door, he shivered the yet standing 
 fragments to pieces, and, bursting through, 
 he caught up Aslak a second time, carried 
 him through the hall into the yard, and 
 holding him up high, he flung him to the 
 ground. Seeing that just there the snow 
 was piled high and soft, and could not hurt 
 the boy, he snatched him up a third time 
 and carried him, as a wolf might carry a 
 disabled dog, to a place more free of snow, 
 where again he knocked him down and 
 then put his knee on the boy's chest. 
 There is no saying how it might have 
 ended, had not Ingeborg with the baby 
 thrown herself between them. " Do not 
 make us all unhappy ! " she cried. 
 
 Ingeborg was sitting again in the room ; 
 Thorbjorn dressed himself, and the father 
 walked up and down silently, drinking a 
 little water from time to time ; the trembling 
 of his hands was such, that he could not 
 hold the cup without spilling some of its
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 25 
 
 contents. Aslak did not return, and Inge- 
 borg rose, as if to go after him. 
 
 " Stay here," said Samund in a distant 
 sort of voice, arid she stayed. 
 
 He went himself and did not return. 
 Thorbjorn took his book and learned with 
 all his might, without, however, understand- 
 ing a single sentence. 
 
 Presently the house seemed to have re- 
 covered itself; but there remained a feeling 
 of strange interruption. Thorbjorn, after 
 some time, ventured forth, and the first sight 
 meeting his view was Aslak in the court- 
 yard heaping his modest goods and chattels 
 upon a small sledge. The little sledge was 
 Thorbjorn's property. The boy watched him 
 dismayed ; Aslak indeed presented a woeful 
 spectacle. His face and part of his clothes 
 ran with blood. He coughed and kept 
 feeling his chest. Silently he viewed Thor- 
 bjorn, then he said vehemently : " Boy, your 
 eyes are a plague to me ! " after which he 
 put himself astride on the sledge and slid
 
 26 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 down the sloping road. " You won't see 
 your sledge again in a hurry," said he with 
 a parting grin, and turning yet again he put 
 out his tongue at Thorbjorn. This was 
 Aslak's departure. 
 
 A few days after, the policeman made his 
 appearance at Granliden ; and then the 
 father was off and on from home ; the mother 
 shed tears, and she, too, seemed to have 
 business that called her away from the 
 household. 
 
 "What is it all about, mother?" asked 
 Thorbjorn. 
 
 " It is all that boy, Aslak," she said, and 
 sighed. 
 
 One day also, little Ingrid was overheard 
 
 singing an extraordinary ditty which ran 
 
 thus : — 
 
 "O thou lovely world — ah mc — 
 How my heart is sick of thee ! 
 The daughter does nothing but dancing about, 
 The son is as stupid as any lout ; 
 The mother's cooking is wretchedly poor, 
 The father himself is the laziest boor.
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 27 
 
 The eat is the cleverest of the lot, 
 
 She steals the cream from the churning-pot." 
 
 There followed of course an investigation 
 as to how the child was possessed of this 
 song. She had it from her brother. Then 
 Thorbjorn in tribulation owned that it was of 
 Aslak's teaching. 
 
 " If I hear the like again, either from you 
 or your sister," said the father, " you'll find 
 a thrashing for it." 
 
 But worse than this, poor little Ingrid 
 presently began to swear about the house. 
 Thorbjorn was called to answer for it. 
 And the father thought of resolving the 
 investigation at once into condign punish- 
 ment. The boy, however, cried so piteously, 
 and made such good promises, that blows, 
 for this time, remained suspended. 
 
 But the following preaching- Sunday the 
 father said : 
 
 " There will be no opportunity for mischief 
 at home. The boy will come with me to 
 church."
 
 CHAPTER IL 
 
 The church holds a high place in the esti- 
 mation of the peasant ; he sees it standing 
 apart, lonely and sanctified. The sacred rest 
 of the God's acre speaks to him without, the 
 sound of the living Word within. It is the 
 only house in the valley which he has thought 
 worthy of adornment ; its very steeple to him 
 looks higher than it really is. The sound of 
 its bells goes forth to meet him as he wends 
 his way along on preaching-Sunday ; and as 
 often as he hears the peal he takes off his 
 cap with a silent bend, as though he meant 
 a " Thanks for the last ! " ' There is an 
 
 ^ Tak for sidst — a usual greeting among Norwegian 
 peasants ; its meaning is something like this : " T re- 
 member gratefully our last happy meeting."
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 29 
 
 understanding between him and these bells, 
 known to him only. As a child he remem- 
 bers listening to their call, watching the 
 church-goers down the valley. The father 
 went, he himself was as yet too small to go. 
 Many a picture had interwoven itself with 
 those grand and solemn sounds, as for hours 
 they continued to echo from rock to rock. 
 Three things especially seemed pari and 
 parcel of the ringing bells — himself in Sun- 
 day clothes, all the women looking their 
 best, the very horses in bright polished 
 harness. 
 
 And when at last the Sunday dawns, the 
 bells of which bear witness to his own hap- 
 piness, when, for the first time in his life, in 
 new clothes — bran new, and somewhat large 
 (for he will grow) — he walks to church be- 
 side his father, then, indeed, he hears joy and 
 glory in their peal ! Are they not the 
 keepers of doors to things unknown ? And 
 as he goes home the sounds float after him 
 — his mind is confused with all he has seen
 
 30 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 and heard ; the singing and the preaching, 
 the choir and the table within the rails, the 
 many people, and all they wore ; — the parting 
 sounds deepen the mingling impressions, 
 and the church which he henceforth bears 
 in his heart is to him a living fact. 
 
 As he grows older he must go to the 
 mountain pasture with the cattle. The dewy 
 Sunday morning finds him sitting on some 
 rock watching the cattle feed beneath him, 
 and far away ; he is alone, and as the deep 
 sound of the church bells is borne up to 
 him, silencing for a while the merry tinkle 
 from among his cows, he feels a longing at 
 his heart For with the calling bells there 
 seem to rise from the valley happy, joyful, and 
 inviting thoughts — thoughts of the friends 
 one would meet at church, of the happiness 
 in being there, and the still greater happiness 
 of having been, of the good dinner awaiting 
 the church folks at home; thoughts of parents, 
 of brothers and sisters, and happy evenings 
 on the meadows behind the house ; — they are
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 31 
 
 natural thoughts, and the sturdy little heart 
 rebels against his lot. Yet the boy remem- 
 bers it is the church bells that are ringing. 
 He tries to think of some few verses such as 
 they would sing at church, and folding his 
 hands, with a long gaze down the valley, he 
 sings them, and says the prayer he has been 
 taught; after which he jumps up, and is 
 happy again, blowing into his lure^ till it 
 resounds from the mountains. 
 
 In those silent valleys the church speaks 
 yet a language of its own to every listener, 
 according as the eye that beholds it is young 
 or old. Much may rise up between the 
 church and the grown man, but nothing will 
 rise above it. Awe-awakening and perfect, 
 it stands before the young about to be re- 
 ceived in confirmation ; it raises a finger as 
 it were, half threatening, half beckoning, to 
 the young man leading the maiden to the 
 altar ; strong and upright it towers amid the 
 cares of manhood ; restful and tender it looks 
 1 A long wooden horn.
 
 32 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 upon the old man's finished toil. It is dur- 
 ing service that the little children are brought 
 to the font, and everybody knows that the 
 congregation is never so devoutly joining as 
 during the christening of the babies. 
 
 It is, in fact, impossible to view a true 
 picture of Norwegian peasants, good or bad, 
 without ever and again seeing the church in 
 the foreground. This may seem monoton- 
 ous ; but such monotony is not against them. 
 Once for all, this should be borne in mind, 
 though not exactly on account of the church- 
 going now to be described. 
 
 Thorbjorn was highly delighted that at 
 last he too might come to church : there 
 were many things to be seen. While yet 
 without the building his eyes felt dazzled 
 with a variety of colouring truly startling; 
 within he felt awed by the silence that 
 hovered over the congregation even before 
 the service began ; he forgot he should bend 
 his head, yet seeing everybody else bend 
 low, h(j forthwith followed the example.
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. ^^ 
 
 Then the singing began, the whole congre- 
 gation about him falHng in with one accord ; 
 he felt almost frightened. He sat quiet, but 
 jumped as from a trance when their pew was 
 opened and some one stepped in. The 
 singing having come to an end, the father 
 held out his hand to the new-comer, and 
 said : " How do you do at Solbakken ? " 
 
 Thorbjorn looked up amazed. But keenly 
 as he eyed the man, he could see nothing 
 about him that appeared in the least like 
 charms and sorcery. His was a pleasant 
 countenance, with fair hair, blue eyes, and a 
 high forehead. He smiled when spoken to, 
 and said " Yes " to everything that Samund 
 said, without, however, in the least appearing 
 as though he had nothing to say. 
 
 " There, you can see little Synnové," and 
 taking Thorbjorn on his knees, the father 
 directed his attention to one of the Avomen 
 pews opposite. 
 
 A little girl was kneeling on the seat, 
 looking over the top of the pew. She was
 
 34 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 fairer even than the man — indeed, her hair 
 was fairer than anybody's Thorbjorn had 
 ever seen. She wore red flying ribbons on 
 the Httle cap from under which her flaxen 
 hair appeared, and she was now laughing at 
 him so merrily that for a time he could see 
 nothing but her shining white teeth. In one 
 hand she held a nicely bound hymn-book, 
 in the other a tidily-folded handkerchief of 
 red and yellow silk, and she was amusing 
 herself by flapping the two together. The 
 more he looked, the more he himself laughed 
 back to her, and like her he wanted now to 
 be kneehng on the seat. Then she nodded 
 to him ; he looked at her steadily, then he 
 too nodded. She smiled and nodded a 
 second time ; he nodded back, and again 
 and again. She smiled, but did not nod 
 any more, till after a while, when he had for- 
 gotten, she once more nodded to him. 
 
 " I, too, want to look over ! " he heard a 
 voice behind him, feehng himself at the same 
 time pulled down by the legs, so that he
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 35 
 
 almost toppled over. It was a small, strong- 
 fisted urchin who now took possession of the 
 vacated place. He, too, had light though 
 bristling hair and a pug nose. No doubt 
 Aslak had informed Thorbjorn how trouble- 
 some boys whom he might meet with at 
 school or in church should be treated. 
 Accordingly, Thorbjorn pinched the youth 
 from behind, so that he all but screamed with 
 pain ; but he managed to gulp it do^\^^, de- 
 scended, and caught Thorbjorn 's ears. Thor- 
 bjorn in his turn snatched at the other's yel- 
 low wig, and pulled him over. Not even now 
 did he scream, but he bit his adversary's calf. 
 Thorbjorn pulled it from him, and held the 
 boy's head tight to the ground. At this 
 moment a hand caught him by the collar, 
 lifting him up like a puppy dog, and he 
 found himself back on his father's knees. 
 
 " If it was not in church you'd have a 
 thrashing," he whispered in the boy's ear, at 
 the same time pressing his hand till his very 
 toes ached with the pain.
 
 36 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 Then he remembered Synnove and glanced 
 across. She still looked at him, but with so 
 horrified an expression that he began to sus- 
 pect he had misbehaved himself; had he 
 been very naughty ? As soon as the little 
 girl caught his look, she crept down from 
 her seat and did not show herself again. 
 
 Now the verger appeared, and then the 
 pastor ; he watched them attentively, and 
 listened quietly to the service. He still sat 
 on his father's knees, and went on thinking, 
 " Won't she be looking up again ? " The 
 little boy who had begun the fight sat on a 
 stool at the other end of the pew ; he would 
 have risen, but every time he attempted it 
 he received a grip in the back from an old 
 man who was nodding in the corner, but 
 kept waking up as often as the boy moved. 
 "Won't she be looking up again?" thought 
 Thorbjorn, and every red ribbon he saw re- 
 minded him of hers ; and every picture in the 
 old church seemed either to be her height 
 or not much less. Ah ! — there the little flaxen
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 37 
 
 head appeared, but she turned away, looking 
 most serious, having caught his face. 
 
 Again the verger and the pastor demanded 
 the boy's attention, the bells began to ring, 
 and he saw that the congregation rose to 
 leave the church. 
 
 The father resumed speaking with the 
 fair-haired man, and both walked to the op- 
 posite pew, where the women too were 
 stirring. The first who left it was a woman 
 of fair hair like the man, and smiling like 
 him, yet with a faint shadow in her smile. 
 She was small and pale, holding Synnové 
 by the hand. Thorbjorn tried to get near 
 the little girl, but she hid herself behind her 
 mother's dress. 
 
 " Leave me alone !" said she. 
 
 " This little fellow, I suppose, has not 
 been to church before," began the pale 
 woman, putting her hand on his head. 
 
 " No, and that is why he comes to blows 
 with his neighbour as soon as he gets there," 
 said Samund.
 
 38 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 Thorbjorn looked up, ashamed, first at 
 her, then at Synnové, whom he now fancied 
 more unfriendly than before. They left the 
 church together, the parents in conversation 
 and Thorbjorn behind Synnové, who, how- 
 ever, took refuge in the folds of her mother's 
 dress every time the boy approached her. 
 He did not see the other boy again. Be- 
 fore the church door the party remained 
 standing, having evidently much to talk 
 about. Thorbjorn several times caught the 
 name "Aslak," and as it seemed to him very 
 possible his own name might come up as 
 well, he moved to a safe distance. 
 
 " You need not be hearing this," said the 
 mother to Synnové ; " go and talk to the 
 boy, my child ! " 
 
 Synnové turned away hesitatingly ; but 
 Thorbjorn came up to her, and the two 
 stood looking at each other for several 
 minutes, silently. At last the girl said : 
 
 *' For shame !" 
 
 " Why do you say so ? "
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 39 
 
 " For shame ! " she repeated more em- 
 phatically. 
 
 " What have I done wrong ? " 
 
 " You have been fighting in church — and 
 that while the pastor was saying the prayer. 
 It was a shame !" 
 
 "Yes, but that is now some time ago." 
 
 Perhaps she saw the force of this reason- 
 ing, for she said, apparently mollified : 
 
 " Are you the boy whose name is Thor- 
 bjom Granliden ? " 
 
 " Yes 5 and are you the girl whose name 
 is Synnové Solbakken ? " 
 
 " Yes ... I always heard you were such 
 a good boy." 
 
 " No — that is not true ; for I am the 
 worst of us all." 
 
 " Well — who ever ! . . ." exclaimed Syn- 
 nové, putting her little hands together in 
 utter astonishment. " Mother, mother, he 
 says ..." 
 
 " Be quiet, child ! " was the reply, stop- 
 ping her half-way as she was running to her
 
 40 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 parents. So she returned, but her big blue 
 eyes kept looking towards her mother. 
 
 " I always heard you were such a good 
 little girl," said Thorbjorn. 
 
 "Well, sometimes, when I have been 
 learning my lessons," she assented. 
 
 " Is it true that there are goblins and 
 witches and all sorts of sprites over at your 
 place ? " asked he, putting his arm akimbo 
 and resting on one leg, exactly as he had 
 learned it from Aslak. 
 
 " Mother, mother, just listen to him ! 
 He says ..." 
 
 " Leave me alone, child, I cannot listen . . . 
 do not interrupt me again, do you hear ? " 
 
 So she had to retire a second time. 
 
 *' Is it not true that among your hills 
 there is strange music every night ? " 
 
 " No ! " 
 
 " Have you never seen a goblin ? " 
 
 " No ! " 
 
 " Lord bless me " 
 
 " Hush ! you must not say so !"
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 41 
 
 " Why not ? — there is no harm " 
 
 " Yes, yes," she said, " and if you are not 
 a good boy, you will have to go to hell ! " 
 
 " Do you think so ? " said he humbly, but 
 relieved ; he had expected her to say " You 
 will get a thrashing," but the father stood 
 not alarmingly near. 
 
 " Who is the strongest in your house ? " he 
 asked presently, pushing his cap on one side. 
 
 '* Why — I never thought ! " 
 
 " With us it's the father. He is so strong 
 that he even got the better of Aslak ; and 
 you may believe me, Aslak is just a giant." 
 
 " Is he ? " 
 
 " He once lifted up a horse, legs and all." 
 
 " A horse ! " 
 
 " It is quite true, quite true — he himself 
 told me." 
 
 This of course seemed conclusive. 
 
 " Who is Aslak ? " 
 
 " Oh ! a naughty boy ; very naughty. 
 The father gave him a bigger thrashing 
 than anybody ever had before !"
 
 42 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 " Then thrashing is the fashion with j'ou ?" 
 
 " Yes, sometimes ... is there no thrash- 
 ing at Solbakken ? " 
 
 " Oh no ! " 
 
 " Then what do you do ? " 
 
 " Well, the mother does cooking and 
 knitting and sewing ; so does Karin, but 
 not nearly as well, for she is lazy. Father 
 and the men work on the farm — sometimes 
 they are at home." 
 
 He found this report quite satisfactory, 
 
 " But in the evening," she continued, 
 " we read and sing hymns, and so wc do on 
 Sundays." 
 
 "All together?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well that must be stupid work ! " 
 
 " Stupid work ! Mother, do you hear " 
 
 But she remembered the mother was not 
 to be interrupted, and came back of her own 
 accord. 
 
 " I have a great many sheep," she said, 
 turning again to the boy.
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 43 
 
 " Have you, indeed ? " 
 
 " Yes, and three of them will be lambing 
 in the spring ; one of them, I am sure, will 
 have two." 
 
 " So you have sheep of your own ?" 
 
 " Yes, and cows and little pigs. Haven't 
 you any?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Then come over to me, and you shall have 
 a lamb. And you'll get more by and by." 
 
 " That would be nice ! " 
 
 For a while they meditated in silence. 
 Then he asked : 
 
 " Couldn't Ingrid too have a lamb ? " 
 
 " Who is she ? " 
 
 " Ingrid — why it's little Ingrid ! " 
 
 She had never heard of her. 
 
 " Is she smaller than you ? " 
 
 " I should think so ! . . . about as tall 
 as yourself." 
 
 '* O, well, then you must bring her when 
 you come." 
 
 Certainly he would.
 
 44 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 " But if I give you a lamb, she must have 
 a little pig." 
 
 This appeared a fair arrangement ; and 
 then they began to enumerate their mutual 
 acquaintances, of which there were not many. 
 The parents meanwhile had done and were 
 preparing to go home. So they had to 
 separate. 
 
 In the following night Thorbjorn's dreams 
 were of Solbakken — it was full of white 
 lambs, and a httle fair-haired girl with red 
 ribbons went about among them. Ingrid 
 and he spoke of nothing but the intended 
 visit, and they seemed to have so many 
 lambs and pigs to care for that all their time 
 was taken up. But they were surprised their 
 visit should not be carried out at once. 
 
 " Perhaps, because the Uttle thing has in- 
 vited you ? " asked the mother, " who ever 
 heard the like ! " 
 
 "Well, let's wait till next church-going 
 Sunday," said Thorbjorn to Ingrid ; "perhaps 
 then ! "
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 45 
 
 The Sunday came. 
 
 " I hear you have such habits of bragging 
 and swearing and story-telling, that you may 
 not come to see me till you are a much 
 better boy," said Synnové to him. 
 
 "Who said so?" asked Thorbjorn, as- 
 tonished. 
 
 " Mother," replied she. 
 
 Ingrid awaited his return impatiently ; he 
 told her and his mother what he had heard. 
 
 " Now you see ! " said the latter, but 
 Ingrid was silent. 
 
 Several months passed before the two 
 were allowed to go over to Solbakken. And 
 then Synnové came to see them at Gran- 
 liden, after which the two went again to see 
 her, and she them ; so it went on till child- 
 hood was left behind. Thorbjorn and 
 Synnové vied with one another at lessons ; 
 they went to the same school, and the boy 
 did so well that the pastor began to take 
 notice of him. Ingrid did not get on so fast.
 
 46 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 although Thorbjorn and Synnove helped her. 
 But she and Synnove became the most in- 
 separable of companions, and people called 
 them the little snowbirds, because they al- 
 ways flew out together, and were both so 
 exceedingly fair. 
 
 At times Synnove had reason to be angry 
 with Thorbjorn, for he was quarrelsome, and 
 often in a scrape ; but then Ingrid acted as 
 peacemaker, till the two were friends again. 
 
 If Synnove's mother, however, heard of 
 any of his misdoings, he was forbidden to 
 show himself at Solbakken for the w^eek, and 
 for the matter of that did not always dare to 
 sliow himself when tlic week of penitence 
 was over ! As for Siimund, it was not well 
 to tell him of anything — " He is terribly hard 
 upon the boy," said the mother, and tried to 
 have things kept from him. 
 
 As they grew up, each of them grew hand- 
 some in a different way. Synnove was tall 
 and slender, with flaxen hair, a lovely-com- 
 plcxioncd face, and quiet blue eyes. She
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 47 
 
 smiled when she spoke, and people said it 
 was a blessing to get within the reach of her 
 smile. Ingrid was shorter and more robust ; 
 her hair was even fairer than Synnove's, she 
 had a small round face and soft features. 
 Thorbjorn grew to middle height, but was 
 very handsome and of powerful build. He 
 had dark hair, deep-blue eyes, marked fea- 
 tures, and well-shaped limbs. When he was 
 angry he used to say he could read and write 
 as well as the schoolmaster, and feared not 
 a man in the valley — " the father excepted," 
 he added to himself, but did not say so, 
 
 Thorbjorn wanted to be confirmed early, 
 but the father would not have it. 
 
 " Till you are confirmed, you are but a 
 schoolboy, and I can manage you better ! " 
 said the father. 
 
 And so it came about that he, Synnové, 
 and Ingrid went together to the pastor to be 
 prepared for confirmation. Synnové, too, had 
 waited longer than is usual, and was already 
 in her sixteenth year.
 
 48 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 " You cannot learn too much before 
 making your confession of faith in confirma- 
 tion," said the mother, and kept her at 
 school beyond the customary age, father 
 Guttorm agreeing with her. 
 
 And thus it was not surprising that lovers 
 already began to present themselves : one 
 was the son of a good family in the neigh- 
 bourhood, and the other a rich peasant in 
 the valley. 
 
 " This is too bad ! " says the mother, '* and 
 the child not even confirmed ! " 
 
 " Then we must have her confirmed," 
 said the father. 
 
 But Synnové herself knew nothing of these 
 suitors. 
 
 The ladies at the parsonage were fond of 
 Synnové, and used to call her in when the 
 religious instruction was over, while Ingrid 
 and Thorbjorn remained outside with the 
 others. " Why didn't you slip in with her?" 
 asked one of the youths ; " somebody will be 
 getting her before your very nose ! " This
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 49 
 
 prediction cost the fellow a black eye, but 
 the boys thenceforth took a pleasure in chaff- 
 ing Thorbjorn about Synnovc, and it was 
 found that nothing sent him into such a tower- 
 ing rage as the bare mention of her name. 
 
 All this twitting and chaffing, however, re- 
 sulted in a great fighting fray among the 
 boys ; it was settled the battle should come 
 off in the wood at some distance from the 
 parsonage. The girls had walked on, so 
 there was no one who could have separated 
 the infuriated youths. The number against 
 Thorbjorn grew till almost the whole class 
 stood against him. He had to defend him- 
 self tooth and nail, and many a blow was 
 given, the subsequent results of which told 
 their own tale. It became known, also, what 
 the blows had been about, and there was 
 much talking in the valley. 
 
 On the following Sunday Thorbjorn would 
 not go to church, and when the next instruc- 
 tion day came round he pretended illness ; 
 so Ingrid went by herself to the pastor's.
 
 50 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 When she returned he inquired whether 
 Synnové had said anything. 
 
 " Nothing," was the answer. 
 
 But he had to appear again, and he thought 
 everybody was reading his face. The boys 
 laughed at him, though covertly. Synnové 
 arrived only when the class was just begin- 
 ning, and remained behind with the ladies 
 much longer than usual. He expected a 
 lecture from the pastor, but found out pre- 
 sently that the only two in the valley who 
 knew nothing of the affair were just the 
 pastor and his own father. So far, things 
 went well ; but it cost him much cogitation 
 as to how he might talk again to Synnovc 
 herself ; for the first time he dared not ask 
 Ingrid to make it up between them. Syn- 
 nové stayed behind in the parsonage ; he 
 waited till the last of the class had gone, 
 when he too had to leave. Ingrid had left 
 among the first. 
 
 The next time he found that Synnovc had 
 come before any of the others, and was walk-
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 51 
 
 ing with one of the ladies and a young gen- 
 tleman in the garden. The lady dug up 
 some flowers, which she gave to Synnove, 
 the young gentleman assisting in the opera- 
 tion, while Thorbjorn, with his comrades, 
 looked on through the paling. Synnove 
 was told how the flowers were to be planted 
 — the conversation being loud enough for 
 the outsiders to understand every word — and 
 Synnove said she would try and plant them 
 again in her own little garden at home. 
 
 " You will want some help," said the gen- 
 tleman. Thorbjorn heard this, and remem- 
 bered. 
 
 When Synnove came out to the others 
 there was a general attempt to be agreeable 
 to her. She went at once to Ingrid, and 
 begged her to come with her to the lawn on 
 the other side, where they seated themselves : 
 it was a long time since they had had a talk. 
 Thorbjorn meanwhile remained behind, ex- 
 amining the beautiful foreign flowers which 
 had been given to Synnove.
 
 52 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 On that day she left the parsonage directly 
 with the others. 
 
 " Shall I carry the flowers for you ? " 
 asked Thorbjorn. 
 
 " You may," she said quite pleasantly, but 
 did not look at him. 
 
 She took Ingrid by the hand, leaving him 
 to follow with the flowers. Having arrived 
 at the place where their roads separated, she 
 took the basket which he had set down be- 
 side her, merely saying : 
 
 " Thank you, I can easily carry them 
 home myself now," and left, having shaken 
 hands with Ingrid. 
 
 He had all along intended to offer his help 
 for the planting of the flowers ; but she had 
 turned away so quickly, that he had not got 
 his words together before she was gone. He 
 was sorry afterwards, and wished he had 
 asked her. 
 
 "What have you been talking about?" 
 he incjuircd of Ingrid. 
 
 " Nothing particular," she said.
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 53 
 
 When everybody had gone to bed, Thor- 
 bjorn rose again, dressing himself cautiously, 
 and went out. It was a lovely evening, soft 
 and still. The sky had veiled itself, but the 
 thin blue-gray clouds were torn here and 
 there, and it looked as if eyes were upon him 
 from the deeper sky beyond. 
 
 No one was to be seen on the farm, nor 
 indeed anywhere in the distance. The grass- 
 hoppers were chirping all around him ; a 
 wild-fowl was calling and being answered by 
 another, and yet another, till there was a 
 singing and calling all over the meadows, 
 till it seemed to him as though the creatures 
 all had risen to join in his expedition. Yet 
 nothing was to be seen. The fir-wood was 
 of a bluish colour, rising darker and darker 
 along the mountain side, looking like a sea 
 of mist. The blackcock's clarion sounded 
 afar, some lonely owl screeched a song to 
 herself, while the waterfall played away at a 
 melody as old as the rock whence it sprang, 
 and which seemed all the louder now that
 
 54 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 everything had settled down to Usten. 
 Thorbjorn cast a look at Solbakken, and 
 marched away. Leaving the usual track, he 
 went straight across field and meadow, and 
 soon found himself in the little garden which 
 was Synnove's own, lying just beneath the 
 window of her garret-room. He stood and 
 listened, but nothing stirred. Then he looked 
 about for some gardening tools, and dis- 
 covered a spade and rake, probably the girl's 
 own. Part of a flower-bed had already been 
 dug up, but only a very small piece was 
 actually ready, and there two flowers had 
 been planted — as if to see how they would 
 look. " The poor thing got tired over her 
 work — it needs a man's arm to do it really," 
 said he to himself, setting forthwith about 
 his task. He felt wide awake, and never 
 before had work appeared so easy. He re- 
 membered quite well how the flowers should 
 be planted ; he remembered also the parson- 
 age garden, and did everything as tidily as 
 though it liad been there.
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 55 
 
 The night wore on — he did not stop to 
 notice it ; at last the whole bed was delved 
 and trimmed, and the flowers planted — per- 
 haps replanted, as they would look better 
 still. Thus he worked away through the 
 short hours of semi-darkness, giving a glance 
 from time to time to the little window over- 
 head, for fear somebody might be watching. 
 But neither there nor elsewhere living crea- 
 ture was to be seen ; not even the barking of 
 a dog was heard in the night. At last the 
 silence gave way before the morning ; the 
 cock crew, calling up the birds, which one 
 after another arose from their nest in the 
 woodlands, caroUing their joyous " good 
 morning" in the dew/ dawn. 
 
 While he yet stood, or rather knelt, to 
 smooth the earth, he remembered the stories 
 which Aslak had told him in days gone by, 
 and that he once believed that witches and 
 goblins dwelt at Solbakken. 
 
 He looked up to the little window, and 
 smiled. What will Synnove say when she
 
 56 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 comes to plant her flowers in the morning ? 
 .... Daylight was fast advancing, and 
 the birds grew more and more noisy. He 
 fled over the hedge, and away. Let any one 
 dare to say it had been he who was over at 
 Synnove Solbakken's garden, and planted 
 her flowers before the morning !
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 There were all sorts of reports in the valley, 
 but no one knew anything for certain. 
 Thorbjorn was never seen at Solbakken now, 
 since he and Synnové had been confirmed, 
 and were no longer considered children ; 
 people could not make it out. Ingrid, how- 
 ever, often went over ; she and Synnové also 
 used to go for long walks in the woods. 
 
 " Don't stay too long ! " the mother would 
 call after them as they went. 
 
 "Oh no," answered Synnové — and did 
 not return till the evening. 
 
 The former suitors presented themselves 
 anew. 
 
 " She must give her own answer,"' said the 
 mother, to which the father aCTeed.
 
 58 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 But when Synnové was taken aside and 
 sounded, there was a flat refusal. 
 
 Other wooers followed, but it was never 
 heard that any one of them achieved his luck 
 at Solbakken. 
 
 One day, as she and the mother were 
 clearing up the dairy, the latter asked whether 
 her mind was fixed on any one in particular. 
 
 It was a sudden question, and Synnové 
 blushed all over. 
 
 " Have you given your word to any one ? " 
 inquired the mother scrutinizingly. 
 
 " No ! " answered Synnovc quickly. 
 
 And there was no further talk on the 
 subject. 
 
 But she was considered to be the best 
 match far and wide, and long gazes followed 
 her as she came to church — tlic only place 
 where she could ever be seen, except at 
 home ; for, the parents being Haugeans, she 
 never went to join a dance or any other 
 amusement. 
 
 Thorbjorn sat in the pew opposite hers.
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 59 
 
 People never saw them talking with each 
 other, either before or after church, yet 
 everybody seemed to know that there was 
 some understanding between the two ; but 
 as they did not appear to behave to one 
 another like other lovers in the valley, people 
 talked about them, and all sorts of stories 
 were current. Thorbjorn himself came to 
 be disliked. He knew it, and the very 
 knowledge made him all the rougher when 
 he met with others at some wedding or a 
 dance ; no sooner arrived sometimes, than 
 he came to blows. But his broils grew less 
 frequent, as there were more and more of 
 those who had felt the power of his fists ; 
 and thus Thorbjorn fell into a habit of not 
 allowing any one to make himself obnoxious 
 to him. 
 
 "You are a man now," said the father, 
 " and have got a fist of your own ; but re- 
 member, mine may be stronger yet." 
 
 Autumn and winter passed away, the 
 spring was coming, and yet people knew
 
 6o SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 nothing. There were so many stories afloat 
 of rejected suitors, that Synnové was con- 
 sidered to have a mind of her own. Ingrid 
 was her constant companion. The two also 
 were to go this summer in company to the 
 såter/ for Guttorm Solbakken had bought 
 part use of the Granliden hill pasture. 
 Thorbjorn was heard singing on the moun- 
 tain side, making preparation there towards 
 the girls' coming. 
 
 One afternoon, as he had done his work, 
 and the evening was closing in upon what 
 had been a perfect day, he sat down thinking 
 of all that was being said in the valley. He 
 was lying on his back, on the ruddy heather, 
 resting his head in his hands behind him, 
 and looking up into the heaven as it rose a 
 
 ^ A lonely summer pasture on the Norwegian hills, 
 . at a distance sometimes of many miles from the farm 
 itself. Usually one of the daughters goes with the 
 cattle to the satcr, and there she spends the summer 
 months in a humble cottage ; seeing no one, except, 
 perhaps, at times her lover, who may think nothing of 
 the distance.
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 6i 
 
 deep blue dome, beneath which the tree-tops 
 went swaying to and fro. The foHagc of 
 birch and pine flowed into one another, 
 forming one heaving cloud, through which 
 the branches made a fantastic drawing of 
 their own. The sky peeped in here and 
 there when a leaf was blown aside, or flowed 
 in like a sea of blue where the trees stood 
 farther apart. All this began to move his 
 fancy, and what he saw took shape. 
 
 The birch-tree cast laughing glances at the 
 pine, whose cousin, the fir, looked on in 
 silent disdain, pricking with her needles 
 about her ; for with the sunny days many 
 low-born creatures had sprung up, thrusting 
 their fresh foliage under the very nose of the 
 lordly fir. 
 
 " Goodness knows where you were in the 
 winter !" yawned the fir, fanning herself, and 
 perspiring resin drops. " What a desperate 
 heat ! high up, as we are, in the North — 
 humph !"
 
 62 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 But there was an old gray-headed silver 
 fir, which, having shot up beyond the rest of 
 them, was just able to bend down a many- 
 fingered arm, catching a bold maple by the 
 top till he shivered to his very roots. This 
 hoary old fir had had her branches lopped 
 off by some woodcutter's axe, and sick of 
 such treatment she took to shooting upwards, 
 till the poor little pine of lower degree 
 asked her humbly whether she was not for- 
 getting the winter storms. 
 
 " Forgetting the winter storms ? " gasped 
 the towering fir, and reeling with the north 
 wind she sent it flapping round the ears of 
 her frightened relation, which almost lost its 
 balance in the sudden blast. This tall and 
 darksome fir-tree had planted her feet so 
 firmly in the soil beneath, that her toes 
 stood apart at several yards' distance, and 
 even there were stronger than the best 
 branches of the willow which confided this 
 fact with a rertaiii amount of modesty to the 
 hop clinging to her with enamoured tendrils
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 63 
 
 by the brook. The hoary fir knew tlie pride 
 of her station, and saihng her branches in 
 the turbulent air, said disdainfully : " Let 
 them lop me now if they can !" 
 
 " No, they cannot now ! " replied the eagle, 
 honouring the fir with a visit; and folding 
 his kingly wings with dignity, he began to 
 scrape some quite ordinary sheep's blood 
 from his claws. " I rather think this seems 
 a fit place for the queen . . . she is troubled, 
 and would wish to lay her eggs," he added 
 softly, looking down bashfully upon his naked 
 claws. Sweet recollections came upon him 
 of early spring days, when all nature is under 
 the spell of new-born sunbeams, laden with 
 warmth and growth. He soon turned his 
 looks aloft again, gazing from under his 
 feathery brows to the rocky heights where 
 the queen might be found sailing. He burst 
 upwards in quest of her, and the fir could 
 see the couple high up in the clear blue 
 ocean, planing along the mountain-tops, no 
 doubt discussing their domestic concerns.
 
 64 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 The fir opened her boughs, fluttering with 
 hopes ; for, proud as she was, it would make 
 her prouder still to bear an eagle's nursery 
 in her arms. And behold, the royal pair 
 descended in spirals upon the ambitious 
 tree ; they had had their say, and forthwith 
 began to gather sticks and branches. The 
 fir felt herself spreading with swelling emo- 
 tions — she would grow and spread now to 
 her heart's content ; who should hinder her ? 
 But a whispering and a talking went 
 through the wood, as the trees perceived 
 the honour done to the mighty fir. There 
 was a dear little birch, bending complacently 
 over the reflecting brook, and whispering to 
 itself that it might well look for some affec- 
 tion from a brown-coated linnet which used 
 to sleep within its branches. She had fanned 
 him with her gentle breezes, and had trapped 
 the pretty flies on her leaves that he might 
 catch them easily ; as the weather grew hot, 
 slic had even built a summer-house for him 
 with sprouting fbhagc ; and it seemed these
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 65 
 
 manifold attractions were not lost upon tlie 
 linnet. He was just going to domiciliate 
 himself for the season — when lo ! the eagle 
 arrived on the fir above. The linnet had to 
 depart — it was most sad! But he parted 
 gratefully, with a tender love -song to the 
 sorrowing birch, twittering softly that the 
 eagle might not hear. 
 
 No better fared a family of sparrows in an 
 elder bush. They had led a dissipated life ; 
 so much so, that a steady thrush close by in 
 a mountain ash was sorely disturbed in her 
 slumbers ; it was no use rating away at her 
 ill-behaved neighbours, they paid not the 
 slightest attention to her feelings, much to 
 the diversion of a dignified fieldfare watching 
 the scene. But now they forgot private 
 quarrels : there was the eagle on the fir-top. 
 They had to turn out — every wing of them — 
 sparrow and thrush and fieldfare. But the 
 thrush swore, as she changed her lodgings, 
 she would never again house herself near a 
 rascally set of sparrows.
 
 66 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 Thus the wood was deserted, and stood 
 pensive in the glowing sunshine. Should all 
 its joy henceforth be bound up in the honour 
 done to the lording fir? That was poor ex- 
 change ! The trees grew frightened, and 
 bent to the north wind as it rushed among 
 them ; the big fir above sailed about its 
 branches, enjoying the commotion, while the 
 eagle hovered round his nestlings with a 
 happy unconcern, as if it were but a summer 
 breeze laden with incense from the wood 
 beneath. The leafy trees stood mournful ; 
 but every branch that bore needles, down to 
 the smallest pine, felt the honour done to 
 the proud old fir, though themselves they 
 had not a nest among them 
 
 "What are you dreaming about?" said 
 Ingrid, as she stepped smiling from be- 
 tween some branches, dividing them before 
 her. 
 
 Thorbjorn rose. 
 
 " I'here is nuicli to occupy one's thoughts," 
 he said, looking defiantly up to the tree tops.
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 67 
 
 " People talk more than I care to hear," 
 added he, brushing the dust from his jerkin. 
 
 "I would not care for people's talk." 
 
 " Well, neither should I . . . yet, after all, 
 they have never said more than I might have 
 made good, had I had a chance of doing so." 
 
 " You ought not to say that !" 
 
 " Perhaps not," — adding after a while, 
 " but it's true." 
 
 She sat down on the grass ; he remained 
 standing beside her, looking down before him. 
 
 *' It won't take much to make me such as 
 people say I am . . . why don't they leave 
 me alone?" 
 
 " It will be your own fault for all that." 
 
 " Possibly — but other people's too. . . . 
 I tell you I zvill be left alone !" he almost 
 screamed, looking up to the eagle. 
 
 " But, Thorbjom," said Ingrid gently. 
 
 He turned to her, and laughed. 
 
 "Don't fret," he said. "Yet there is 
 much to occupy one's thoughts. . . . Have 
 you seen Synnove' to-day?"
 
 6S SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 "Yes; she has come to the sater." 
 
 "To-day?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "With the cattle from Solbakken?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Who cares!" 
 
 " To-morrow we turn out the cattle," said 
 Ingrid, trying to give his thoughts another 
 direction. 
 
 " I shall help driving them." 
 
 " The father is coming himself." 
 
 " Is he ? " said Thorbjorn, and was silent. 
 
 " He has asked about you to-day." 
 
 "Has he?" replied Thorbjorn, snatching 
 off a twig and beginning to peel it with his 
 knife. 
 
 " You should speak more with the father," 
 said the sister kindly ; " he thinks much of 
 you." 
 
 " Perhaps he does." 
 
 " He has much to say for you wlien you 
 are from home." 
 
 " He hasn't when I am tlierc."
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 69 
 
 "That's your own fault." 
 
 " Perhaps it is." 
 
 " You should not talk like that, Thorbjorn. 
 You know what he does not like in you." 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " Shall I say it ? " 
 
 " I don't care, it's all the same, Ingrid ; 
 you know what I know." 
 
 "Well — you are too independent; you 
 know he does not like that." 
 
 " No — he would like to tie my hands." 
 
 "Yes, especially when you use them for 
 blows." 
 
 " Shall people tell me what they like, and 
 I take it all quietly ? " 
 
 " No ; but you might shun those whose 
 talk you don't like ; that's what he did, and 
 you know how everybody respects him." 
 
 " Perhaps they did not provoke him as 
 they provoke me." 
 
 Ingrid was silent for a moment ; then, 
 looking about her, she said : 
 
 " There is perhaps not much use in talk-
 
 70 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 ing — but you know you should not be going 
 where you fall in with them." 
 
 " That's the very place which I would not 
 avoid ! I am not Thorbjorn Granliden for 
 nothing." 
 
 He had done peeling his twig, now he 
 began cutting it in two. Ingrid, looking at 
 him, said, somewhat hesitatingly : 
 
 " Do you know that Knud Nordhang has 
 come home for his sister's wedding ? " 
 
 " I do." 
 
 She looked at him earnestly. 
 
 " Well, has he more right now to force 
 himself between me and others ? " 
 
 "He does not force himself — nor do 
 others wish he should." 
 
 " No one can tell what others may wish." 
 
 " Yet you know very well ! " 
 
 " S/ie never says so, anyhow." 
 
 " How can you talk like this !" said Ingrid, 
 rising and looking about her. 
 
 He tlirew his half twigs away, and, thrust- 
 ing the knife into his belt, he said :
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 71 
 
 "I tell you I am sometimes sick of the 
 whole business. People talk about her as 
 they talk about me, because nothing happens. 
 And for the matter of that, I may not even 
 go over to Solbakken — because the parents 
 don't like it, she says. I mayn't go and see 
 her as other lads may see their girls, because 
 she is one of the saints — now you know." 
 
 " Thorbjorn !" said Ingrid, distressed; but 
 he heeded her not. 
 
 *' The father will not say a word to help 
 me. ' If you deserve her, you'll get her,' he 
 says. There is nothing but abominable talk 
 on the one hand, and not the slightest assist- 
 ance on the other. I don't even know that 
 she really " 
 
 With a quick movement Ingrid put her 
 hand over his mouth, looking anxiously about 
 her. Again the shrubs parted, and a slender 
 figure stepped forward. It was Synnové. 
 
 " Good evening," she said. 
 
 Ingrid looked at Thorbjorn, as though she 
 meant to say : " Do you see now ?"
 
 72 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 But he looked at her somewhat reproach- 
 fully. Neither of them spoke to Synnove. 
 
 " May I rest here awhile ?" said the latter ; 
 *' I have had a good deal of walking to-day." 
 
 And she sat down, Thorbjorn turning his 
 head as if to see that the grass was dry where 
 she seated herself Ingrid's eyes wandered 
 away towards Granliden, and she called out 
 suddenly : 
 
 " Dear me, those wretched animals — 
 there is Faggerlin right amid the clover, 
 and Kelleros after her — it is too bad ! high 
 time we should move them to the såter ! " 
 
 And away she ran after the troublesome 
 cattle, without as much as a good-bye to the 
 two she left to themselves. 
 
 Synnove rose. 
 
 " Are you going ? " asked Thorbjorn. 
 
 " Yes," she said, but did not move. 
 
 " You might stay a little," said he, without 
 looking at her. 
 
 "Another time," she replied gently. 
 
 " That may be a long way off ! "
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 73 
 
 She glanced up ; he was now looking at 
 her, but it was some time before either of 
 them spoke. 
 
 " Sit down again," he began, half under 
 his breath. 
 
 " No," she answered, and remained stand- 
 ing. 
 
 He felt his temper rising. But she was 
 before him with what he did not expect 
 Moving towards him she said, smiling straight 
 into his eyes : 
 
 *' Are you angry with me ? " 
 
 And as he looked closer he saw that there 
 were tears. " No, no ! " he exclaimed pas- 
 sionately, putting out his hand ; but her 
 tears blinding her, she did not see it, and he 
 drew it back At last he went on : " You 
 heard what I said ? " 
 
 " Yes," she answered, smiling again, yet 
 the tears rose faster and faster. 
 
 He did not know what to say or do, but 
 the words came presently : 
 
 " I suppose I have been hard upon you !"
 
 74 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 This was said most gently ; her eyes fell and 
 she half turned away. 
 
 *' You should not judge what you don't 
 know," she whispered so low he scarcely 
 heard it. 
 
 He felt very guilty — like a naughty boy 
 he stood before her, saying meekly : " I beg 
 your pardon." 
 
 But that seemed to call up more and 
 more tears. It went hard with him to see 
 her cry ; putting his arm round her, he bent 
 his face to hers : 
 
 " Then do you care for me, Synnove ? " 
 
 " Yes," she sobbed. 
 
 " But it does not make you happy?" 
 
 No answer. 
 
 " It does not make you happy ? " he re- 
 peated. 
 
 Her tears fell faster and faster. She tried 
 to disengage herself from liim. 
 
 " Synnové 1 " he said softly, drawing lier 
 closer. She leaned on him and wept hope- 
 lessly.
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 75 
 
 " Come, let us talk a little," said he at 
 last, seating her gently on the heather, and 
 sitting down beside her. 
 
 Drying her tears, she meant to smile, but 
 it was a pitiful smile. He took one of her 
 hands and looked into her face. 
 
 " Dear Synnové, why mayn't I come over 
 and see you ? " 
 
 She was silent. 
 
 " Have you ever asked that I might 
 come ? " 
 
 No answer. 
 
 " Why don't you ask ? " continued he, 
 drawing her hand closer. 
 
 " I dare not," she said very softly. 
 
 His brow darkened ; drawing in his knee 
 he rested an elbow upon it, putting up the 
 hand to his face. . . . 
 
 " If this is the case I shall never get over." 
 
 Instead of answering she began to pull 
 some heather. 
 
 " I daresay ... I have done much that 
 may displease . . . but people should not
 
 76 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 judge so hardly ... I am not bad" — and 
 he stopped, adding after a while : " And I 
 am young . . . scarcely twenty ... I may 
 . . ." he stopped. " But one who really 
 believes in me . . . ought . . ." and then 
 he broke down altogether. 
 
 He heard the low voice beside him : 
 
 "You should not talk like this . . . you 
 do not know how much I ... I cannot 
 even tell Ingrid . . ." and she cried bitterly. 
 " I . . . suffer ... so much." 
 
 He caught her in his arms, drawing her 
 closer and closer. 
 
 " Speak to your parents," he whispered, 
 "and it will be all right." 
 
 '* It depends on you," she said gently. 
 
 « On me ! " 
 
 Synnové turned and put her arms round 
 his neck. 
 
 " If you loved me, as I love you . . ." 
 she said tenderly, trying to smile. 
 
 " And don't I ?" whispered he. "* 
 
 " No — no ! you take no advice from me.
 
 SYNNOVK SOLBAKKEN, 77 
 
 You know what would bring us together, but 
 you will not — why not ? " And now, having 
 begun to speak, she could go on : " Oh, if 
 you knew how I have waited and waited for 
 the day when I might welcome you at Sol- 
 bakken ! but there is always something that 
 should not be . . . and I must be told of 
 it by the very parents from whom I should 
 wish to hide it ! " 
 
 It was clear to him all at once. He 
 understood now how she waited at Sol- 
 bakken for the one happy moment when 
 she might lead him to her parents — it was 
 he who made such a moment impossible. 
 
 " Why have you never told me before ? " 
 
 " Have I not ? " 
 
 " No — not in this way." 
 
 She thought for a moment, then she said 
 shyly : " Perhaps I was afraid to tell you." 
 
 But the idea that she could be afraid of 
 him touched him so, that, bending over her, 
 he kissed her for the first time in his life. 
 
 A change passed over her — the tears
 
 78 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 stopped, yet something trembled in her 
 eyes ; she tried to smile, looked down, then 
 up at him, and now she did smile. Nothing 
 more was said ; their hands found each 
 other, but neither ventured to press the 
 other's. She drew hers gently back, and 
 began to dry her eyes and to smooth her 
 hair, whilst he, not moving, looked at her, 
 his heart saying the while : " Well, and if 
 she is less bold than any of the girls in the 
 valley, and if she is to be handled tenderly, 
 no one shall say anything against it." 
 
 Thereupon he rose and went with her to 
 the sater, which was not far distant. He 
 would have liked to hold her hand, but he 
 felt strangely forbidden ; he thought it won- 
 derful indeed, that he might just be walking 
 by her side. 
 
 Feeling thus, he said as they parted : 
 " It shall be long before you hear again 
 anything about me to trouble you." 
 
 Returning home, he found his father tarry-
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 79 
 
 ing corn from the storehouse to the mill. 
 The neighbours had their corn ground at 
 the Granliden mill when their own streams 
 ran dry. The brook at Granliden never 
 dried up. There were many sacks to be 
 carried, some of ordinary size, some very 
 large. The women folk were close by wring- 
 ing linen. Thorbjorn walked up to the 
 father, and took hold of a sack. 
 
 " Shall I help you ? " 
 
 " Oh, I can manage very well ! " replied 
 Siimund, shouldering a load, and walking off 
 towards the mill. 
 
 " There are many of them," continued 
 Thorbjorn, and seized two big sacks ; putting 
 his back to them, he hauled them over his 
 shoulders, propping the elbows against them. 
 Half-way towards the mill he met Samund 
 returning. The father gave him a quick 
 glance, but said nothing. As Thorbjorn, 
 however, came back for a fresh loading, he 
 met Samund with two still larger sacks. And 
 Thorbjorn took no more this time than one
 
 8o SVNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 small sack. The two meeting again, the 
 father's eye rested on him with a longer 
 look. At last they arrived together by the 
 storehouse. Samund said : 
 
 " A messenger has been over from Nord- 
 hang ; they invite you to join their wedding- 
 party on Sunday." 
 
 Ingrid looked up from her washing im- 
 ploringly ; so did the mother. 
 
 ** Has there ? " replied Thorbjorn drily, 
 and took hold of the two biggest sacks he 
 could find. 
 
 " Are you going ? " demanded Samund 
 gloomily. 
 
 "No."
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The Granliden sater was gloriously situated, 
 with a view commanding the whole neigh- 
 bourhood. First of all there was Solbakken, 
 amid its woods of many -coloured foliage ; 
 beyond it, and around, lay other farmsteads, 
 each with its boundary line of woodland, 
 looking like so many peaceful spots obtained 
 by human perseverance from the heart of the 
 storm-haunted forest. 
 
 There were fourteen homesteads, which 
 could be seen from the Granliden mountain- 
 pasture ', but of Granliden itself only the 
 roofs were visible, and these only by going 
 to the outermost point of the såter boundary. 
 There the girls would sit, watching the smoke 
 as it went up from the chimneys below them.
 
 82 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 " The mother is getting dinner ready," 
 said Ingrid j " there'll be salt-meat to-day." 
 
 " Hark ! that's the bell for the men," re- 
 sponded Synnové, " I wonder where they are 
 at work." 
 
 And their eyes followed the smoke as it 
 rose briskly into the clear sunny air, curling 
 up more languidly by and by, spreading 
 away over the forest, thinner and thinner, 
 until it dissolved in misty shreds over the 
 landscape beyond. 
 
 And thoughts would rise from the hearts 
 of the girls gliding away over the dreamy 
 landscape. 
 
 To-day their thoughts turned towards Nord- 
 haug. It was some days after the wedding ; 
 but as this festivity would last for a week, they 
 yet heard from time to time the report of a 
 gun, or the hallooing of some powerful lungs. 
 
 " They are very merry down there," said 
 Ingrid. 
 
 " I don't grudge tlicm their fun," replied 
 Synnovc, bending over her knitting.
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 83 
 
 " Yet it would not be amiss if one could 
 join it," continued Ingrid, sitting on the 
 heather, and watching Nordhang, where 
 figures could be seen going to and fro be- 
 tween the buildings, some towards the store- 
 house, where well -spread tables would be 
 provided, others, in couples perhaps, stroll- 
 ing away evidently in confidential mood. 
 
 " I don't know why you should particu- 
 larly wish to be there," remarked Synnové, 
 
 "Well, I hardly know myself; perhaps it's 
 the dancing 1 " 
 
 To this Synnové had no answer. 
 
 " Haven't you ever joined in a dance ? " 
 
 " No, never." 
 
 " You don't think it would be wrong ? " 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 Ingrid dropped the subject for the moment, 
 as she remembered that dancing was not 
 approved of by the Haugeans, and she would 
 not inquire how far Synnové might agree 
 with her parents. Her thoughts, however, 
 did not wander far, for she resumed :
 
 84 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 " There is not a better partner to be had 
 for a dance than Thorbjorn." 
 
 Synnové hesitated, but assented after a 
 while : 
 
 "Yes, so I hear." 
 
 " Well, you should see for yourself," per- 
 sisted Ingrid, with a look at her companion. 
 
 " No, I don't wish to see." 
 
 Ingrid felt silenced, and Synnové bent 
 lower to the knitting, counting her stitches. 
 Dropping her work, she said presently : 
 
 " I am happier than I have been for many 
 a day ! " 
 
 " How is thati" inquired Ingrid. 
 
 " Oh . . . well, because I know he is 
 not among the dancers at Nordhang to-day." 
 Ingrid looked up wistfully, saying, after a 
 pause : 
 
 " I should think some of the girls there 
 will miss him." 
 
 Synnové opened her mouth, but no words 
 came forth ; she applied herself again to her 
 knitting.
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 85 
 
 " Thorbjorn would like to be there well 
 enough, I know that," Ingrid went on, but 
 stopped as the purport of what she said came 
 home to her. Synnové grew red, knitting 
 on silently, till Ingrid, having in her mind 
 gone back over the whole of their conversa- 
 tion, seemed to have discovered a light which 
 made her jump up from her seat in the 
 heather ; clapping her hands, she went close 
 to Synnové, bending down till she could see 
 straight into her eyes. But Synnové was 
 engrossed with her stitches. Thereupon 
 Ingrid laughed merrily, and said : 
 
 "You have kept a secret from me all 
 these days." 
 
 " What have I ?" replied Synnové, with an 
 uncertain glance at her friend. 
 
 " It is not exactly Thorbjorn's dancing 
 you disapprove of," she continued, still laugh- 
 ing. There was no answer, and Ingrid, 
 laughing more and more, caught Synnové 
 round the neck, whispering in her ears as 
 she did so :
 
 86 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 " But you disapprove of his dancing with 
 others r 
 
 "You are chattering," said Synnové, dis- 
 engaging herself and getting up, Ingrid fol- 
 lowed her. 
 
 " It is really a great pity, Synnové, that 
 you don't dance ; yes, a great pity ! Come, 
 I'll teach you!" 
 
 And she caught her round the waist. 
 
 "Teach me dancing?" said Synnové. 
 
 " Yes, and save you from the grief in future 
 that he should be dancing with others." 
 
 Synndvé could not but laugh now j at 
 least she tried to laugh. 
 
 " Somebody might see us," she said. 
 
 " Bless you for this answer, stupid as it is," 
 returned Ingrid, humming already a dance 
 tune, to which she began whirling Synnové 
 along with her. 
 
 *' No, no, I can't ! let me alone !" 
 
 " Nonsense — of course you can ! Didn't 
 you just say you hadn't been so happy this 
 many a day? Just try !"
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 87 
 
 " I don't know how." 
 
 " Round and round," said Ingrid, whirling. 
 
 " You are so boisterous " 
 
 "Said the cat to the sparrow, when he 
 would not sit still for her to catch him. 
 Come along." 
 
 " Well, I would, but . . ." 
 
 " Now, you see, I am Thorbjorn, and you 
 are the little wife that does not approve of 
 his dancing with others." 
 
 « But " 
 
 Ingrid went on humming vigorously. 
 
 *' But " reiterated Synnové, and lo ! 
 
 she was dancing. 
 
 It was a jumping reel.' Ingrid went 
 before her, taking large steps and throwing 
 her arms, men fashion ; Synnové followed, 
 stepping gently and dropping her eyes. 
 
 Ingrid sang : — 
 
 " See the fox, how he watches from under the tree 
 In the heather ; 
 And the hare comes hopping so fearless and free 
 Through the heather. 
 
 ^ A national dance.
 
 88 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 See the sun how it laughs in the bright blue sky, 
 Sending beams aslant from ever so high 
 Through the heather. 
 
 " And the fox laughs merrily under the tree 
 
 In the heather. 
 The hare goes hopping in transports of glee 
 
 Through the heather, 
 And says to himself, ' What a heyday for me ! 
 To dance away, jumping so merrily, 
 
 Through the heather.' 
 
 " But the fox lies awaiting behind the birch-tree 
 In the heather ; 
 And the hare arrives jumping quite breathlessly 
 
 Through the heather — 
 'The fox here ! ah, save me, I tremble with fear !' 
 ' I have you,' the fox says, ' how dare you jump here, 
 In the heather?' " 
 
 " Isn't it nice ? " asked Ingrid, stopping 
 quite breathless herself. 
 
 Synnové laughed, but thought she would 
 rather be waltzing. 
 
 " Well, there is no reason why you 
 shouldn't," said Ingrid, and began forthwith 
 to show her how to place her feet, " for," 
 she said, "waltzing is not so easy."
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 89 
 
 *' Oh ! I daresay, it will be easy enough, 
 once we have caught the rhythm," replied 
 Synnove. Ingrid was ready to tr)' it at once 
 — she sang and Synnove joined, softly first, 
 but getting louder and louder, till Ingrid, 
 stopping short all at once, clapped her hands 
 in astonishment. 
 
 " Why ! you caji waltz !" 
 
 " Hush, don't tell anybody ! " said Syn- 
 nove, catching her again round the waist. 
 
 ** But where did you learn ?" 
 
 "Tra-la-lal" sang Synnove, whirling her 
 round. 
 
 And they danced away merrily, Ingrid 
 singing again : 
 
 " See the sunshine dancing with all its might — 
 Dance away, bright love, it will soon be night ! 
 See the rivulet skipping adown the great sea — 
 Skip away, merry lad, for your grave it will be ! 
 See the birch how it whirls in the arms of the wind — 
 Whirl away, fair maid — is he really kind ? 
 For see " 
 
 " What extraordinary songs you have," 
 exclaimed Synnove, stopping.
 
 90 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 " Have I ? I really don't know what I 
 am singing ! I believe I heard them from 
 Thorbjorn." 
 
 " I think they are the Jail-Ben's verses — 
 I am sure they are !" said Synnové. 
 
 " Are they?" replied Ingrid, rather vexed, 
 and said no more. But presently her eye 
 was caught by something moving along the 
 road beneath them. 
 
 *' Look — it's somebody from Granliden." 
 
 " Is it he ? " asked Synnové. 
 
 *' Yes, it's Thorbjorn ..." 
 
 It was Thorbjorn, driving to town. He 
 had a long journey before him, and his wag- 
 gon was heavily loaded, so he did not hurry 
 the animal ; they saw him proceed slowly 
 along the dusty road, which lay full in view 
 of the siitcr. Thorbjorn, hearing voices 
 calling him from above, knew well whence 
 the greeting came ; he stopped, and mount- 
 ing his waggon, responded so powerfully 
 that it went echoing round the hills. 'J'licn 
 the lure came into rc(iuisilion, and he sat
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 91 
 
 listening to the full tones of the horn being 
 blown to him from the såter till the last 
 sound had died away, when again he shouted 
 in return. Thus it went backwards and 
 forwards, till he felt himself in the happiest 
 of moods. He looked across to Solbakken, 
 and never had it shone so gloriously as in 
 the sunlight now resting upon it. 
 
 Sitting there and gazing above him he 
 forgot the horse, which proceeded leisurely 
 after its own mind. But he was suddenly 
 shaken clear of his dreams ; the horse had 
 shied with such a violent plunge sideways 
 that one of the shafts was shattered to 
 splinters. Still more frightened, it tore 
 away in wild career across the fields of 
 Nordhaug — for these lay along the road. 
 Thorbjorn jumped up and caught at the 
 reins ; a struggle ensued ; the horse seemed 
 bent on tearing down the declivity, Thor- 
 bjorn trying with all his might to hold it back. 
 He succeeded so far that it reared back- 
 wards, and Thorbjorn flew to the front.
 
 92 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 Before the horse had had time to make a 
 fresh start, he had secured it, fastening the 
 reins to a tree. The animal had to give in ; 
 it stood and trembled ; the load had in part 
 rolled off the waggon, and the shaft was 
 beyond mending. Thorbjorn, taking hold 
 of the rein, walked up to the horse, speaking 
 to it kindly to quiet it, turning it at the same 
 time that it might be safe from the de- 
 clivity in case it attempted another plunge. 
 But the terrified creature could not stand 
 still ; he had to follow it half running until 
 they found themselves back on the road. 
 And there they passed the thrown goods — 
 the casks were burst open and their con- 
 tents done for. Hitherto Thorbjorn had 
 only thought of the danger, now he began 
 to consider the consequences, and went into 
 a rage. He saw there was an end to his 
 journey, and the more he tliought, the more 
 his passion rose. The poor creature shied 
 again with another plunge sideways : tliat 
 was too much for Thorbjorn ; his fury broke
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 93 
 
 all bounds. Holding the horse with his left 
 hand by the bit, he came down upon its 
 flank with the heavy whip in his right — lash 
 upon lash, mercilessly, till it foamed with 
 agony and kicked with its forelegs against 
 his chest. But he knew how to keep it at a 
 distance, striking away at it with all the force 
 of his rage, making use of the butt end of 
 his whip now. " I'll teach you — wretched 
 beast ! " and down went the whip. The 
 horse neighed with terror and pain — down 
 went the whip. " Ha — you shall feel what 
 a strong fist can do ! " down went the whip. 
 The animal snorted till foam had covered the 
 fist which yet went on in fury. " This is 
 the first and last time you shall serve me 
 like that, abominable beast — there, I'll give 
 it you for it ! " — down again went the whip. 
 
 They had turned round and round several 
 times. The horse resisted no longer, it 
 awaited each blow trembling, bending its 
 head with a groan whetiever it caught sight of 
 the descending whip. Thorbjorn having spent
 
 94 SVNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 his rage gave way to a feeling of shame — his 
 arm sank. And now he saw, squatting by 
 the wayside, the figure of a man resting on 
 his elbows and grinning at him. He scarcely 
 knew how, but things seemed to grow black 
 before his face ; still holding by the bit of 
 the horse, he burst with his whip on the 
 sudden apparition. " I'll give you some- 
 thing to laugh about ! " the lash descended, 
 but only half caught the man, who with a 
 yell rolled over into the ditch beneath him. 
 There he lay, as he fell, but turning his 
 head he cut a grimace at Thorbjorn with an 
 ugly grin on his wry mouth ; yet no sound 
 of laughter was heard. Thorbjorn started 
 back — he had seen this face somewhere ! 
 Yes, indeed — it was Aslak. Thorbjorn 
 knew not why, but a cold shudder went 
 through him. 
 
 "Then it was you who made the horse 
 shy twice over?" said he. 
 
 " Well, I was asleep here quite peace- 
 fully," replied Aslak rising; "it was you
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 95 
 
 who woke me, thrashing the beast like a 
 madman." 
 
 " It was you who made it shy ; I never 
 knew the animal that was not afraid of 
 you ! " and he turned back to the horse, 
 patting and stroking it as it stood, the big 
 drops of anguish yet running from it. 
 
 " It will be more afraid now of you than 
 of me; /never ill-treated a beast like that," 
 said Aslak, Avho had meanwhile risen on his 
 knees in the ditch. 
 
 " Take care of your tongue ! " screamed 
 Thorbjorn, again showing him the whip. 
 
 "And don't I take care? Now . . . 
 where are you going that you are in such a 
 hurry ? " added he with a subdued voice, 
 coming up to Thorbjorn, but with unsteady 
 steps, for he was drunk. 
 
 " I expect I shall not be going anywhere 
 to-day," said Thorbjorn, trj'ing to disengage 
 the horse from the disabled waggon. 
 
 " That is certainly a nasty business," con- 
 tinued Aslak, coming close, hat in hand.
 
 96 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 " And goodness me ! what a mighty fine 
 fellow we have grown since I last had the 
 pleasure of seeing you !" 
 
 Aslak stood by as firmly as his staggering 
 feet would let him, hiding his hands in his 
 trouser pockets, while Thorbjorn was still 
 busy about the horse ; he could not get it 
 free ; he needed assistance, yet could not 
 bring himself to ask it of Aslak. Aslak, 
 indeed, presented an ugly appearance ; his 
 clothes were covered with mud from the 
 ditch; his hair was matted and glued to- 
 gether, hanging in unyielding masses from 
 beneath a battered hat. His face, although 
 in a measure it had the well-known features 
 of former days, wore now a continuous grin, 
 and the eyes were even more closed than 
 they used to be ; so much so, that he held 
 the head backwards with parting lips as he 
 attempted to look at people. His features 
 had grown powerless and his limbs had 
 stiffened, for Aslak lcd a drunkard's life. 
 Thorbjorn had occasionally met him before,
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 97 
 
 but Aslak pretended to know nothing about 
 it. He went hawking about the country, 
 and was always to be found when a wedding 
 or other festivity was coming off; for then 
 he could sing his songs and tell his stories 
 as indeed only he knew how, receiving his 
 pay in brandy. Thus also he had come to 
 the wedding at Nordhang, but, as Thorbjorn 
 learned afterwards, had seen it advisable to 
 withdraw his person for a while, having, ac- 
 cording to his old habit, worked people into 
 a frenzy, and not wishing to take himself the 
 consequences of their rage. 
 
 " You might as well try to set the horse 
 somehow to the waggon instead of disen- 
 gaging it," said he. " You'll have no choice 
 but go down to Nordhang and get things 
 mended." 
 
 This thought had already presented itself 
 to Thorbjorn, but he had turned from it 
 
 " They are at their wedding now," said he. 
 
 " And lots of people to assist you," added 
 Aslak. 
 
 H
 
 98 SVNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 Yet Thorbjorn was undecided. Without 
 help, however, he could move neither for- 
 ward nor backward, and nothing seemed left 
 but to go to the nearest farm. Slowly he 
 secured the horse to the broken pole and 
 turned away in the direction of Nordhang. 
 Aslak followed. Thorbjorn after some time 
 looked back at him. 
 
 " I return to them in fme company," said 
 Aslak, grinning. 
 
 Thorbjorn did not answer, but strode 
 ahead ; Aslak staggered after him singing : 
 
 " They two set out to a wedding feast/' 
 etc., the beginning of a song. 
 
 " You are in a hurry," he remarked 
 presently ; " you'll be there before you know 
 where you are." 
 
 Thorbjorn remained silent. Soon the 
 sounds of dance music grew distinct, and 
 from the windows of the great two-storied 
 building faces looked forth to watch the 
 approaching figures. Others collected in 
 the farmyard, and Thorbjorn saw that they
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 99 
 
 talked gesticulating, evidently exchanging 
 their notions as to who might be coming. 
 Presently he perceived he had been recog- 
 nized, also that they discovered the ruin of 
 his team, and noticed the fragments of his 
 waggon-load about the fields. The dancing 
 stopped, and the whole of the wedding party 
 came swarming through the doorway just as 
 the two arrived in the farmyard. 
 
 " Here we are, wedding guests against our 
 will," said Aslak, approaching the party be- 
 hind Thorbjorn. 
 
 Thorbjorn was welcomed by all ; they 
 gathered around him, expressing their 
 pleasure at seeing him. 
 
 " Blessings on the happy day : good beer 
 on the table, pretty girls on their feet, and a 
 fine fiddler to scrape away," said Aslak, 
 burrowing among the people. 
 
 Some laughed, others did not, and one 
 said, "Aslak will die with a joke some day." 
 
 Thorbjorn soon discovered old acquaint- 
 ances, who inquired into his mishap. He
 
 loo SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 was not allowed to go back himself to his 
 horse and scattered goods ; others were sent 
 to manage for him. The bridegroom, a 
 young man, and formerly one of his school- 
 fellows, invited him to try the wedding beer, 
 and they went to the house. Some — 
 especially the girls — wished to go on danc- 
 ing • but others proposed to rest, and since 
 Aslak had come back, to get him to tell one 
 of his stories. 
 
 " But mind you make a better choice 
 than your last !" said one, giving Aslak a 
 thump. 
 
 Thorbjorn asked what had become of the 
 rest of the young men. 
 
 "Well," replied one, "they got at logger- 
 heads a little wliile ago ; some have gone to 
 lie down, others are on the threshing-floor 
 playing at cards, others again are keeping 
 company with Knud Nordhang." 
 
 Thorbjorn did not inquire where Knud 
 Nordhang was to be found. 
 
 TIic father of the bridegroom, an old man
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. loi 
 
 sitting quietly with his pipe and a can of 
 beer, now said : 
 
 " Well, Aslak, let's hear ; I suppose we'll 
 all be listening once you have begun." 
 
 " Are there others to join in the request ?" 
 asked Aslak, having taken a low seat at some 
 distance from the company. 
 
 " Yes," replied the bridegroom, " I do." 
 
 " Arc there yet others to ask me in this 
 way?" continued Aslak. 
 
 " Yes," said a young woman, coming up 
 from one of the benches in the background 
 with a jug of wine ; " this is the way to ask." 
 
 It was the bride, a young woman of 
 about twenty, fair-haired, but of somewhat 
 spare person, with big eyes and a forbidding 
 expression about the mouth. "/ like the 
 stories you tell," she added. 
 
 The bridegroom looked hard at her, and 
 his father at him. 
 
 "Yes, these people of Nordhang have 
 always liked my stories," rejoined Aslak. "I 
 drink to their health !" and he emptied the
 
 I02 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 glass Avhich one of the young men had 
 handed him. 
 
 " Now let's hear," called out several 
 voices. 
 
 " Let us have the story of Sigrid, the gipsy 
 girl," proposed one. 
 
 " No, that is an ugly story," objected 
 others, especially female voices. 
 
 " Shall it be the Battle of Lier ?" suggested 
 Svend, the drummer. 
 
 " No, something merry ! " interposed a 
 young man, tall and lanky, leaning in his 
 shirt sleeves against the wall, while his right 
 hand, dangling lazily, played rather familiarly 
 with the hair of two young girls sitting near 
 him — they scolded, but did not move away. 
 
 "I shall just tell the story I like," decided 
 Aslak. 
 
 "The devil you will !" grunted an old man 
 lying on a bed smoking, one of his legs 
 dangling carelessly, while with the other he 
 kicked against the bed-post, where a jerkin 
 hung suspended.
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 103 
 
 " ru thank you to leave my coat alone," 
 said the young man, leaning against the wall. 
 
 '' I'll thank you to leave my girls alone," 
 retorted the old man. 
 
 Then the damsels moved from their seat. 
 
 " Yes, I just tell the story I like," repeated 
 Aslak. " As I gulp down the brandy, my 
 courage comes handy," and he clapped his 
 hands. 
 
 " You shall tell what we like," continued 
 the old man from the bed, "for it's our 
 brandy." 
 
 "What d'you mean?" demanded Aslak, 
 with expanding eyes. 
 
 " I mean, the pig which we fatten is 
 ours," explained the old man, his leg still 
 dangling. 
 
 Aslak closed his eyes, remaining silent, his 
 head hanging sideways ; presently it sank to 
 his chest. 
 
 They talked to him ; he seemed beyond 
 hearing. 
 
 " It's the brandy," said some.
 
 I04 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 At these words Aslak looked up smiling : 
 
 " I have got a story now," said he ; " oh, 
 and it's a merrj' story," he added, laughing 
 open-mouthed, but no one heard his laughter. 
 
 " It's one of his gay moods," rejoined the 
 father of the bridegroom. 
 
 " It costs nothing to nobody," continued 
 Aslak putting out his hand ; " just one more 
 drop to a weary traveller !" 
 
 His request was complied with. He 
 emptied the glass slowly, retaining the last 
 drop on his tongue as if loth to part with it ; 
 but swallowing it eventually he turned to 
 the man on the bed, saying, " Now, let's 
 hear your pig ! " Folding his hands over 
 his knees, swaying his body to and fro, he 
 began : 
 
 " There was a girl, and she lived in a 
 valley. The valley had a name, but that 
 does not matter. The girl was a beauty, 
 and so thought the peasant — d'ye perceive ? 
 — and she was a servant in his house. She 
 got good wages, yes, and more than she
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 105 
 
 ought to have had : she got a child. Some 
 said it was the peasant's, but he didn't say 
 so, for he had a wife. And she didn't say 
 so, for she was proud, poor creature. Thus 
 it happened that it was christened with a lie, 
 and as that child of hers turned out to be a 
 great good-for-nothing, it didn't much matter 
 about the lie. She was housed at the bottom 
 of the farm, and of course the wife did not 
 like that. If the poor girl ventured up to 
 the house she threw the broom at her ; and 
 if the poor wretch of a boy tried to play with 
 the children they were told to kick him 
 away, — he was but a bastard, said the wife. 
 Day and night she plagued her husband to 
 send the brat's mother away. He refused 
 while he was a man ; but he began drinking, 
 and then the wife got the upper hand. The 
 poor girl had a miserable life of it, worse and 
 worse as the years went on, and she almost 
 died for hunger with her boy, who would not 
 leave his mother. 
 
 " Eight years came and went, and yet the
 
 io6 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 girl was at the farm; but now she should 
 go! 
 
 "And indeed she did go . . . but just 
 the very night before, the farmhouse burned 
 up in the most delightful w-ay; the house 
 was burnt and the peasant himself was 
 burnt, for he was drunk — the wife saved 
 herself and the children, and she said the 
 wretched creature had done it. Perhaps 
 she had . . . perhaps she had not, who 
 knows ! . . . That boy of hers was a queer 
 fellow. For eight years he had seen his 
 mother starving and weeping, and he knew 
 how it was ; for she had often told him 
 when he asked her why she was always cry- 
 ing. She cried and told him the very day 
 before she was to be turned from the farm ; 
 and that, no doubt, was the reason why the 
 boy was from home that night . . . but 
 she was put into prison for life, for she her- 
 self told the judge that sJic had lit up the 
 lovely fire that night. . . . The boy re- 
 mained in llic neighbourhood, and j)Cople
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 107 
 
 gave him to eat, because he had such a 
 wicked mother. By and by he went into 
 another valley, where people were not so 
 kind to him, for they did not know about 
 his wicked mother, and he, you see, didn't 
 tell them, . . . When I last met him he 
 was desperately drunk, and people say he 
 is nearly always drunk now. If this be true 
 or not, I don't care ; but I can't for the life 
 of me see what better he could do. He is 
 a terribly wicked fellow, you may be sure. 
 He can't bear — can'^ bear that people should 
 be good to one another ; and still less does 
 he like them to be good to him. He would 
 like everybody to be just as miserable as he 
 is — but he only says that when he is drunk. 
 And then he weeps — weeps — weeps, just 
 about nothing ; why, what should he be 
 crying about ? He has never stolen a brass 
 button in his life, nor done any of the 
 wicked things others do, so there is nothing 
 for him to cry about. And yet he weeps — 
 weeps — weeps. You should just see him in
 
 io8 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 his awful tears ; but don't believe they are 
 real, for he only cries when he is drunk, and 
 then, of course, he can't help it," 
 
 Aslak stopped here, breaking into a par- 
 oxysm of tears and falling from his chair ; 
 but calming down very soon as he fell 
 asleep. 
 
 " The pig is drunk," said the man on the 
 bed ; " he always cries liimself to sleep." 
 
 *' That was an ugly story," remarked the 
 listeners, especially the womankind ; they 
 rose to go out. 
 
 " I never heard him tell other than ugly 
 stories when he had his will," said an old 
 man, rising from his seat by the door, 
 " Heaven knows why people like to hear 
 them," he added, with a look at the bride.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Some went out, others looked for the fiddler 
 to begin dancing afresh ; but the poor 
 fiddler was lying asleep in a corner, and 
 some, having pity on him, begged to let him 
 rest. 
 
 " For since the other fellow, Lars, has 
 been knocked down, this poor Ole had all 
 the fiddling, day and night." 
 
 Thorbjorn's horse and his broken goods 
 had meanwhile been brought to the farm ; 
 the horse was being put to another waggon, 
 as no entreaties seemed to prevail with Thor- 
 bjorn to remain. The bridegroom especially 
 pressed him to stay. 
 
 " Things are not quite so happy here as 
 you might expect !" said he.
 
 no SVNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 Thorbjorn, struck by these words, grew 
 meditative, but insisted he must leave before 
 the evening. The guests, perceiving he 
 would not remain, dispersed. There were 
 many people, but somehow the place looked 
 gloomy and not exactly in wedding gear, 
 Thorbjorn set himself to mend his harness, 
 and required some wood. There was none 
 in the yard, so he went farther to a shed 
 where the firewood was kept, walking slowly 
 and thoughtfully, for the bridegroom's words 
 had set him thinking. Having found what 
 he wanted, he sat down lost in thought, the 
 knife in one hand and a chip in the other, 
 wlien his reverie was suddenly broken into 
 by a groan close by. It seemed to come 
 from the other side of the thin partition 
 wall, from the adjoining waggon shed. And 
 Thorbjorn listened. 
 
 "Is it . . . you . . . really ? " a voice 
 — unmistakably a man's — said slowly and 
 with evident effort. He heard weeping, but 
 that was not a man's voice.
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. iii 
 
 " \\'hy did you come ? " was asked pre- 
 sently, with accents almost stifled by tears. 
 
 " Whose wedding could I more fitly fiddle 
 at than yours ? " 
 
 " It's evidently Lars, the fiddler, who, they 
 said, had been knocked down," thought 
 Thorbjom. " But the other ? it must be 
 the bride herself!" 
 
 Lars was a tall handsome fellow, whose 
 old mother lived in a small cottage belong- 
 ing to the Nordhaug farm. 
 
 "Why did you never speak?" said she, 
 huskily and slowly ; she seemed greatly 
 excited. 
 
 " I did not think it was necessar}- between 
 you and me," was the curt reply. 
 
 There was silence. Presently she re- 
 sumed : 
 
 " Yet you knew that he was suing for 
 me!" 
 
 " I gave you credit for holding your own." 
 
 There were renewed teai:s — and again she 
 broke out : " Why did you never speak ?"
 
 112 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 " Much would have been the use for the 
 son of old Bertha to propose for the 
 daughter of Nordhang," was answered, amid 
 gasps and groans. He waited for a reply. 
 
 It came slowly : " Have we not looked 
 to one another this many a year? but ..." 
 
 " You were always proud, a fellow didn't 
 dare to speak ..." 
 
 " And yet there was nothing I desired 
 more earnestly ... I waited — waited day 
 after day . . . when we met about the 
 place . . . till I felt sometimes as though I 
 were offering myself. At last I thought you 
 despised me." 
 
 Again there was silence. Thorbjorn heard 
 no answer, no sobbing, not even the sick 
 man's breathing. 
 
 He thought of the bridegroom, whom he 
 believed to be an honest fellow, and he 
 pitied him. 
 
 At last she spoke again : 
 
 " I fear he will have little joy of me . . . 
 he ... "
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 113 
 
 " He is an honest man," said the poor 
 fiddler, groaning. No doubt his chest pained 
 him. She seemed to suffer with him, for 
 she said : 
 
 " It will be very hard now for you . . . 
 but ... I daresay we should never have 
 come to speak out if this had not happened. 
 When I saw you at blows with Knud, then 
 only I understood you." 
 
 "I could not bear it any longer," said he; 
 adding after a pause — " and Knud is a bad 
 man." 
 
 " Well, he is not good," replied the sister. 
 
 They were silent again. Then he re- 
 sumed : 
 
 " I wonder if I shall recover from this . . . 
 it's all the same to me !" 
 
 "If you are unhappy, I am much more 
 so," and she wept passionately. 
 
 "Are you going?" asked he presently. 
 
 " Yes," she replied ; and again — " O good 
 God ! what a life it will be !" 
 
 " Do not cry so," said he. *' God will
 
 114 SVNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 soon put an end to my life, and then, you'll 
 see, things will go better with you." 
 
 " Oh why — why did not you speak ? " 
 repeated the stifled voice, broken by tears. 
 
 Thorbjorn thought she must have left 
 after this, or else was quite unable to speak 
 again. He heard no more, and went his 
 way. 
 
 " What was there between the fiddler and 
 Knud Nordhang to bring them to blows ?" 
 inquired Thorbjorn of the first he met in 
 the yard. 
 
 It was Peter, the farm ser\'ant ; but he 
 only puckered up his face as if to hide 
 something in its wrinkles, saying : *' You 
 may w^ell ask, it w^as just nothing. Knud 
 merely inquired of Lars whether his fiddle 
 was in good tune for this wedding ! " 
 
 At this moment the bride passed them. 
 Her face was averted, but as she caught 
 Lars' name she turned round, revealing big, 
 red, uneasy eyes. The rest of her face was 
 cold, so cold that Thorbjorn could not re-
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 115 
 
 concile it with the words he had just heard, 
 which again set him thinking. 
 
 At the farther end of the farmyard the 
 horse stood waiting for him. He fixed the 
 harness, and then looked round for the 
 bridegroom, in order to bid him good-bye ; 
 he did not particularly care to go in search 
 of him, feeling it rather a relief not to see 
 him anywhere about, and mounting his wag- 
 gon he prepared to drive off. At that 
 moment, however, a calling and shouting 
 arose from the great barn at the other side 
 of the yard ; a noisy party burst from it 
 headed by a big fellow, and Thorbjorn 
 understood the words : 
 
 " Where is he . . . is he hiding ? where ? 
 where?" 
 
 "There! there !" was screamed in return. 
 
 " Don't let them meet !" called out others. 
 "There'll be mischief" 
 
 " Is that Knud ? " asked Thorbjorn of a 
 little boy close to his waggon. 
 
 " Yes, he is the worse for drink, and
 
 ii6 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 then he never rests till he has had a 
 quarrel. " 
 
 Thorbjorn had hold of the reins, and 
 called to the horse to start. 
 
 "Don't go! stop there!" It was Knud 
 coming near. 
 
 He pulled at the rein, but the horse not 
 answering, he let it go. 
 
 " Stop ! stop ! are you afraid to stop, 
 Thorbjorn Granliden?" he heard now close 
 behind him. Again he pulled, without, how- 
 ever, looking back. 
 
 "Get down and keep us company !" said 
 one of the party. 
 
 Thorbjorn turned his head : 
 
 " No, thank you, I must go home !" 
 
 But they tried to dissuade him from going. 
 The whole band had by this time gathered 
 round the waggon. Knud put himself at 
 the horse's head, stroking it first and then 
 taking hold of the bridle, as if to examine 
 its face. He was a tall lanky fellow, with 
 fair but bristling hair, and a pug nose. The
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 117 
 
 mouth was large and thick, the eyes blue, 
 but their expression impertinent. He bore 
 little likeness to his sister ; some lines about 
 the mouth, however, were like hers, and he 
 had the same straight forehead, though less 
 high. On the whole, his features were coarse, 
 whilst hers were rather delicate. 
 
 " How much do you want for your horse ?" 
 asked Knud. 
 
 *' I don't intend selling it," replied Thor- 
 bjorn. 
 
 ** D'you think I could not pay ?" de- 
 manded Knud. 
 
 " I don't think anything about it — I don't 
 know." 
 
 " Do you dare to doubt ? don't let me 
 hear that again !" said Knud. 
 
 The young man who had been leaning 
 against the wall, playing with the girl's hair, 
 remarked now to another fellow beside 
 him : 
 
 " Knud does not quite dare." 
 
 Knud heard this.
 
 ii8 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 " I not dare ! who says that ? I not 
 dare !" screamed he. 
 
 More and more people gathered round 
 the Avaggon. 
 
 " Off now ! Take care of the horse ! " 
 called out Thorbjorn, coming dowTi with his 
 whip and attempting to start. 
 
 " Dare you tell me to be off ! " screamed 
 Knud. 
 
 "I spoke to the horse, I must be off!" 
 said 'Jliorbjom, without, however, looking at 
 him. 
 
 " Don't you see you are driving right over 
 me?" Knud went on. 
 
 "Then go out of my way." 
 
 And the horse raised its head high, else 
 it would have knocked it against Knud's 
 chest. Knud caught it by the bit, and the 
 poor animal, remembering the treatment it 
 had received not many hours ago, stood and 
 trembled. Thorbjorn saw it, and it went to 
 his heart, for he felt very rueful about his 
 behaviour to tlic innocent creature. But
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 119 
 
 his anger rose against Knud. Starting up, 
 he raised the whip, letting it descend over 
 Knud's head. 
 
 " How dare you ! " screamed Knud, dart- 
 ing closer. 
 
 Thorbjorn jumped from his waggon. 
 
 "You are a good-for-nothing fellow!" 
 said he, getting pale with anger, and throw- 
 ing the rein to one of the lookers on. 
 
 But the old man who had risen from his 
 seat by the door when Aslak had ter- 
 minated his story, took him by the arm, 
 saying : 
 
 " Saniund Granliden is too respectable a 
 man that his son should come to blows with 
 such a swaggering bully." 
 
 *' I am no more a swaggering bully than 
 he, and my father is as good as his . . . . 
 Come on ! . . . It's a pity people should not 
 know which of us is strongest." And he 
 threw off his jerkin. 
 
 " They'll soon see," said Thorbjorn. 
 
 " They are like two cats," said the man
 
 I20 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 who had been lying on the bed ; " they only 
 half dare — both of them." 
 
 Thorbjorn took no notice. Some of the 
 lookers-on laughed ; others said it was a 
 shame that there should be so many brawls 
 at this wedding, and worse, that a visitor 
 should be stopped who wished to be off 
 quietly. Thorbjorn looked round for his 
 horse, but the man to whom he had given 
 the rein, had led it away. 
 
 " What are you looking out for ? " said 
 Knud insolently. "I don't expect Synnové 
 is here ! " 
 
 "Stop that — she is nothing to you !" 
 
 " O nothing at all ! I don't want to have 
 anything to do with such sanctified people ; 
 perhaps it's she who made such a coward of 
 you." 
 
 That was too much for Thorbjorn. He 
 looked round as though taking his measure of 
 the place. But again some of the elder people 
 interfered ; there had been enough of Knud's 
 miscliicf already at this wedding, they said.
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 121 
 
 " He shan't harm me," said Thorbjorn, 
 and they were silent. 
 
 Others thought they had looked askance 
 at one another for a long time ; perhaps they 
 had better fight it out and be the better 
 friends when they had done. 
 
 "Yes," observed one, "each wants to be 
 first in the valley; let's see which is !" 
 
 *' Hasn't anybody seen a certain Thorbjorn 
 Granliden ?" asked Knud looking round. " I 
 thought I caught sight of him not long ago," 
 
 " Indeed and you have ! " returned Thor- 
 bjorn, giving Knud at the same time such a 
 blow over the ear, that he staggered back 
 and would have fallen, but for some of the 
 men! behind him. 
 
 There was deep silence. Knud caught 
 himself up and flew at Thorbjorn, who stood 
 awaiting him. There was a set-to of some 
 duration ; each tried to overthrow the other, 
 but they were evenly matched. Some 
 thought Thorbjorn's fist dealt most blows, 
 and they fell the heaviest.
 
 122 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 " Knud has evidently found his match," 
 said one of the young men; "give them 
 room !" 
 
 The women dispersed, only one female 
 figure remained on the top of the steps as if 
 to watch. It was the bride. Thorbjorn 
 gave her a look, and stopped for an instant. 
 But perceiving a knife in Knud's hand, he 
 remembered her words that he was not a 
 good man, and with a well -dealt blow he 
 caught him across the wrist, that his arm fell 
 powerless, and the knife dropped from him. 
 
 " Well, you are a fellow !" owned Knud, 
 with a yell of pain. 
 
 " Am I ?" retorted his antagonist, pressing 
 on to him. 
 
 Knud could not well defend himself with 
 one arm, he felt himself caught up and car- 
 ried along for some distance ; but it was not 
 so easy to floor him. Several times he was 
 dashed to the ground with such force that 
 many another would have given in ; but 
 Knud had a strong back. Thorbjorn car-
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 123 
 
 ried him on and on, the people starting away, 
 and Thorbjorn after them with his captured 
 enemy, till they had been all round the yard, 
 and arrived again at the door steps. There 
 he hftcd him once more high, and flung 
 him to the ground with a violence, that 
 his own knees gave way under him, and 
 Knud fell on the flags, the very contact re- 
 sounding through him. He lay motionless, 
 groaning and closing his eyes. Thorbjorn 
 arose, and looked about him ; his looks fell 
 on the bride, who stood without moving. 
 
 " Put something under his head," she 
 said, and turned to go into the house. 
 
 Two old women passed by. " Goodness 
 me !" said one, *' there is another on the 
 ground. Which of them is it now?" 
 
 " It's — well, it is Knud Nordhang," an- 
 swered one of the men. 
 
 " Then, perhaps, there won't be quite so 
 many brawls in future," said the second 
 woman. " They ought to keep their strength 
 for some better purpose."
 
 124 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 " True," assented the first. " May the 
 Lord teach them to look beyond each other 
 for something above them ! " 
 
 These words moved Thorbjorn strangely. 
 He had not spoken, but had looked on 
 silently, while others busied themselves about 
 Knud. One and the other addressed him, 
 but he gave no answer ; turning away, he fell 
 to thinking. Synnové rose before him, and 
 he felt covered with shame. How should 
 he tell her of it ? After all, the end of a 
 brawl was less easy than the beginning. 
 Suddenly he heard his name called, and a 
 "Take care! look about!" but before he 
 could turn, he felt himself caught from 
 behind, and hurled to the ground. He felt 
 a sharp, stunning pain, without exactly 
 knowing where. He heard voices about 
 him, felt the motion of driving, thought he 
 himself was driving, yet everything was whirl- 
 ing and uncertain. 
 
 It seemed long. It grew cold, but the 
 next moment a feeling of heat returned, and
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 125 
 
 then there was a delicious sensation of float- 
 ing and floating — all at once he seemed to 
 understand it — yes, he was being carried 
 beyond the trees — higher and higher, up to 
 the sitter — and higher still to the topmost 
 mountain. There Synnové, weeping, bent 
 over him, and said, he should have spoken ! 
 She wept bitterly, and said, surely he must 
 have seen how Knud Nordhang had always 
 tried to be before him, and now she had 
 been obliged to take him. Then she stroked 
 gently one of his cheeks till it felt quite plea- 
 santly warm, and her tears flowed and flowed 
 over his chest — he felt the running wet. 
 
 And lo, Aslak was perching on a stone up 
 there, setting fire to the beautiful trees, and 
 a crackling went round the branches. But 
 Aslak gave only a big grin, repeating : " It 
 wasn't me, it was mother who did it ! " And 
 Samund, his father, was there, and threw the 
 sacks of corn up high, so high, that the 
 clouds caught them, spreading the corn like 
 a mist around ; and he wondered that corn
 
 126 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 could sail about as though it were mist. 
 And looking again at Siimund, he saw him 
 dwindle and dwindle till he was quite small ; 
 but yet he could throw the sacks higher and 
 higher, saying : " Outdo me if you can ! " 
 
 Far away in the clouds was the church, 
 and on the top of the steeple stood the pale 
 woman of Solbakken, with a silk handker- 
 chief of yello^y and red in one hand, and a 
 hymn-book in the other. She shook her 
 head, and said : " I won't have you up here 
 till your swaggering and fighting is done 
 with ! " And lo ! it was not the church, but 
 Solbakken, and the sun was shining from all 
 its windows — his poor eyes could not stand 
 it, and he had to close them. . . . 
 
 " Gently, Siimund, gently ! " fell on his 
 ear, and he woke as out of a deep sleep, 
 feeling himself lifted and carried. He opened 
 his eyes, and saw he was in the big room at 
 Granliden. A fire burned on the hearth. 
 Tlic mother stood by him, weeping, and the 
 father was lifting him to carry him into the
 
 SYNNOVK SOLBAKKEN. 127 
 
 room beyond. Cut he laid him down again 
 gently. 
 
 " There is yet life in him ! " said he, to the 
 mother, with trembling voice. 
 
 "Lord help us — he opens his eyes!" 
 shrieked the poor mother. " Thorbjorn, my 
 own, my darling, what have they been doing 
 to thee?" And bending over him, she 
 stroked his cheeks, the hot tears running 
 over him the while. 
 
 Samund wiped his eyes with his coat- 
 sleeve, and, pushing the mother softly aside, 
 he said : 
 
 " I had better take him up now." And 
 slipping his right hand carefully under his 
 shoulders, he brought his left arm round him 
 and under his back. " Support his head, 
 mother, if he cannot hold it up himself." 
 And thus they went, the mother's hand 
 under his head, and the father carrying him, 
 into the next room, letting him down gently 
 on the bed 
 
 When they had laid him down, and
 
 128 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 covered him soft, the father asked whether 
 the farm-lad had gone. 
 
 "There he is getting ready," answered 
 the mother, pointing to the yard. 
 
 Samund snatched at the window, opening 
 it, and called out : 
 
 " If you're back in an hour, you'll get 
 your wages doubled — never mind about run- 
 ning down the horse ! " 
 
 He returned to the bedside. Thorbjorn 
 looked at him with big shining eyes. The 
 father looked into them, and his own filled 
 with tears. 
 
 " I knew this would be the end," he said 
 softly, and, turning, left the room. 
 
 The mother sat on a low stool at the foot 
 of the bed, crying quietly to herself. Thor- 
 bjorn wanted to speak, but he felt it such an 
 effort that he remained silent. His eyes, 
 however, were fixed on the mother's face ; 
 she had never seen them so bright, never so 
 beautiful, and it seemed a bad sign. 
 
 " May llie Lord have mercy on thee ! "
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 129 
 
 she said at last. " Siimund will not bear the 
 blow, if you leave us." 
 
 Thorbjdrn looked at her with motionless 
 eyes and rigid face. His look went through 
 her soul, and she began to pray the Lord's 
 Prayer for him, slowly, for she beUeved his 
 end was near. And as she did so, the 
 thought rose in her mind, how they all had 
 loved him, and now that he was being taken, 
 none of his brothers and sisters were at home. 
 She despatched a messenger to the såter to 
 fetch Ingrid, and one of the younger brothers 
 who was there with her, and having done so, 
 she returned to her stool at the foot of the 
 bed. He kept looking at her, and his gaze 
 seemed to her like church music, leading up 
 her thoughts to things beyond and above 
 her. Reverently she took the Bible, saying : 
 " I will read thee something that thou mayest 
 feel better;" and having no spectacles at 
 hand, she opened the Book at a place which 
 she knew by heart — it was in the Gospel of 
 St. John. She was not sure whether he un-
 
 130 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 derstood, for he lay as before with a motion- 
 less gaze fixed on her; yet she read on, if 
 not for his sake, then for hers. 
 
 Presently Ingrid arrived to help the mother, 
 but now Thorbjorn was asleep, Ingrid wept 
 unceasingly ; her tears had begun to flow on 
 the såter with the thought of Synnove, to 
 whom nothing had been said. 
 
 Soon, also, the doctor came and examined 
 him. There was a stab in the side, besides 
 other injuries ; but the doctor volunteered 
 no opinion, and nobody dared to ask him. 
 Siimund, who had followed him to the sick- 
 room, stood with eyes fixed on the doctor's 
 face, and accompanied him to his trap, help- 
 ing him to mount, but merely pulled his 
 forelock when the doctor said he would call 
 again the next day. He watched him drive 
 off, and turning to his wife, who also had 
 come out, he said — " If he says nothing, it 
 is bad." His lips trembled, his knees shook, 
 and he walked away across the fields. 
 
 No one knew whither he had gone. He
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 131 
 
 did not return at evening, nor indeed at 
 night, but only the foUoning morning, and 
 then his brow wore such a look that none 
 dared ask him anything. He himself merely 
 said, "Well?" 
 
 " He slept," answered Ingrid ; " but he is 
 so feeble he cannot even raise his hand." 
 
 The father was going to look at him, but 
 turned back at the door of the sick-room ; 
 he could not go in. 
 
 The doctor came the following morning, 
 and again and again, for days. Thorbjorn 
 could speak now a little, but was not allowed 
 to move. Ingrid constantly sat by the bed- 
 side, so did the mother and the younger 
 brother; but he never asked them anything, 
 neither did they address him any question. 
 The father never entered the room, and they 
 saw that Thorbjorn noticed it ; for each time 
 the door opened he looked towards it, and 
 his mother and sister thought he was watch- 
 ing for his father. At last they asked him if 
 he was looking for any one.
 
 132 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 **Alas! I suppose nobody wants to see 
 me," he replied. 
 
 They reported this to Samund. He lis- 
 tened in silence ; but when the doctor called 
 that day Samund was not at home. As 
 the doctor, however, had left the farm, he 
 met Samund, who at some little distance 
 from the house sat by the roadside waiting 
 for him. The doctor pulled up, and Sa- 
 mund asked what he thought of Thorbjorn. 
 
 " They have played him an ugly trick," 
 was the short reply. 
 
 "Will he get over it?" asked Samund, 
 adjusting the girth. 
 
 " The horse is all right," said tlie doctor. 
 
 " The girth is rather loose," said Samund. 
 
 There was a pause, while the doctor looked 
 closely at him ; but Samund was so occupied 
 with the girth he did not see it. 
 
 " You asked a little while ago whether he 
 would get over it — yes, I think so," con- 
 tinued the doctor slowly. 
 
 Samund started.
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 133 
 
 " Then he is out of danger ?" asked he. 
 
 ** He has been so for some days now," 
 answered the doctor. 
 
 Samund's eyes filled with tears ; he tried 
 to master them, but they rose again. 
 
 ** I am ashamed of myself to make such a 
 fuss about the boy," he faltered at last ; " but 
 you see. Doctor, there is not a finer lad in 
 all the valley." 
 
 The doctor was moved. 
 
 " Why did not you ask me before?" 
 
 " I had not strength to do it," said 
 Samund, still struggling with his tears ; " and 
 then, you see, the women folk were watching 
 day after day whether I should ask, and I 
 was not able." 
 
 The doctor gave him time to calm him- 
 self; but Samund looked at him and said, 
 not moving his eyes from the doctor's face : 
 
 " Will he have his health again ?" 
 
 " To a certain extent, certainly ; however, 
 it is too early to judge." 
 
 Samund turned over these words quietly.
 
 134 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 " To a certain extent," he murmured at last, 
 and his eyes fell. 
 
 The doctor would not interfere with his 
 thoughts ; there was something about the man 
 which forbade him to do so. Samund sud- 
 denly raised his head — " I thank you for the 
 information," said he, held out his hand, and 
 walked slowly away. 
 
 About the same time Ingrid was sitting 
 with her sick brother. 
 
 " If you are strong enough to hear it, I 
 will tell you something of the father." 
 
 " Yes," said he. 
 
 "Well, the first evening, after the doctor 
 had been, the father left home, and no one 
 knew whither he went. He had gone to the 
 wedding people, and everybody there grew 
 frightened as he came amongst them. He 
 sat down quietly and took a drink ; the 
 bridegroom said afterwards he thought the 
 father had taken more than he should. 
 
 " Then only he began to inquire about the 
 brawl, and they told him exactly how it had
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 135 
 
 happened. Presently Knud appeared ; the 
 father wished him to say how it was, and took 
 him along to the place where you fought. 
 The whole of the people came out after them; 
 and Knud told how badly you treated him, 
 and how you lamed his hand. There he 
 stopped, when the father flew at him, ex- 
 claiming, 'Thus it happened, did it not?' 
 and lifting up Knud he laid him low on the 
 spot where your blood still reddened the 
 ground. Pressing him down, his right hand 
 unclasped his knife. Knud grew white ; no 
 one spoke ; some said they saw the father 
 had tears in his eyes. He did not hurt 
 Knud, and Knud dared not move. The 
 father lifted him up, and again threw him 
 down. ' It is hard to let thee off,' he said, 
 holding him close. 
 
 " Two old women passed, and one ex- 
 claimed : ' Think of your children, Samund 
 Granliden.' And they say the father at once 
 let go his hold of Knud, and after a few 
 moments was no more to be seen. Knud
 
 136 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 slunk away, and did not again join the wed- 
 ding party." 
 
 Ingrid had just finished when the door 
 opened and somebody looked in. It was 
 the father. She rose and went out as he 
 entered. And so father and son met again ; 
 what they said to each other was never 
 known. The mother stood behind the door, 
 and she thought she once caught something 
 about how far he might recover his health 
 again. But she was not sure, and did not 
 like to go in while Siimund was there. As 
 he came out his eyes looked red, and he 
 seemed unusually tender. 
 
 " We shall keep him," said he, as he 
 passed his wife, " but God only knows 
 whether he will ever be strong again." 
 
 Ingeborg began to cry, and followed her 
 husband as he went into the yard. There 
 the two sat themselves down on the steps of 
 the storehouse, and had much to say to each 
 other. 
 
 r>ut when Ingrid returned softly to the
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 137 
 
 bedside, Thorbjorn had a slip of paper in 
 his hand, which he gave to her, saying 
 slowly : 
 
 " You must give this to Synnové as soon 
 as you see her again." 
 
 When Ingrid had read the paper she 
 turned away and cried ; for it ran as fol- 
 lows : — 
 
 " To the much respected maiden, Synnové 
 Guttorm sdaughter Solbakken — . 
 
 " When you have read these lines, all 
 must be over between us. For I am not he 
 whom you should have. The dear God be 
 with you and me. 
 
 " Thorbjorn Samundson Granliden."
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Synnové had heard on the second day that 
 Thorbjorn had been to the wedding. His 
 youngest brother had brought the news to 
 the såter. But Ingrid had seen him first, 
 and told him how much he was to say. So 
 Synnové only knew that his waggon had 
 been thrown, and that he had gone to Nord- 
 hang for assistance ; that he and Knud had 
 come to blows there ; that Thorbjorn had 
 been hurt and was taken home — but it was 
 of no consequence. The news had been 
 told her in such a way that she was more 
 angry than concerned about him ; and the 
 more she thought over it, the more hopeless 
 she felt. What was the use of his making 
 fine promises? There was always again some-
 
 SVNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 139 
 
 thing which her parents would not hke. 
 Yet it should not part us ! thought S3'nnové. 
 
 It was but rarely that news came up to 
 the sater — indeed, there was a lapse of 
 several days before Synnové heard anything 
 further. The uncertainty weighed upon her, 
 and as Ingrid did not return she began to 
 entertain fears. She felt unable to sing the 
 cattle home at night as she used to do, and 
 her sleep became anxious as Ingrid stayed 
 away. Thus she felt weary during the day, 
 which did not ease her load. She tried to 
 get rid of her thoughts by occupying herself. 
 She set about cleaning her milk pails, made 
 curds and cheese ; but she did not work with 
 any zest. Thorbjorn's brother and the boy 
 who helped him with the cattle noticed it, 
 and were sure now that there must have 
 been something between her and Thorbjorn, 
 which discovery gave the boy much food for 
 conversation. 
 
 One afternoon, just a week after Ingrid 
 had been called home, Synnové felt more
 
 I40 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 and more oppressed : such a time had 
 passed and yet no news ! She left off 
 working and sat down on a hillock whence 
 she could overlook the different farms ; they 
 seemed a sort of company now, she could 
 no longer bear it alone. As she sat there, 
 weary and tired, her head sank and she fell 
 asleep ; but the sun was hot and she slept 
 uneasily. She dreamt she was at Solbakken, 
 up in her garret room where she used to 
 sleep. The flowers in the garden sent up a 
 sweet perfume, though it was not the usual 
 smell of the flowers, — it reminded her of 
 mountain heather. How strange that is, 
 she thought, and looked out of the window. 
 Thorbjorn was there, actually planting 
 heather. " But, my dear," said she, " what 
 are you about ? " 
 
 " The flowers don't do nicely here," said 
 he, working on. 
 
 But she pitied the flowers, and asked him 
 to bring them up to her. 
 
 " Certainly," he said, gathered them to-
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 141 
 
 gether, and went in to her. She was not in 
 the garret room now, for he could walk in 
 straight from the garden. And the mother, 
 too, came in. 
 
 " For heaven's sake ! I won't have that 
 dreadful Granliden boy come seeing you !" 
 exclaimed she, barring the way. 
 
 But he would not be stopped, and the 
 two confronted each other. 
 
 " Mother ! mother ! it's only my flowers 
 he is bringing ! " pleaded Synnové, sobbing. 
 
 " Flowers indeed ! " said the mother, 
 holding out her arms to prevent his ap- 
 proach. 
 
 Synnové grew frightened ; she did not 
 know which of the two she would like to 
 get the upper hand ; she did not wish either 
 to succumb. ''Oh, take care of my flowers !" 
 but they heeded her not ; they were actually 
 fighting now, and the pretty flowers were 
 thrown all about the floor. The mother 
 trod on them, and so did he. Synnové cried, 
 and it seemed to her that no sooner had he
 
 142 SYNNOVE SQLBAKKEN. 
 
 yielded up the flowers than he grew ugly, 
 very ugly ! His hair spread out in knotty 
 tangles, his face grew terribly large, and he 
 had actual claws to his fingers, with which 
 he tried to seize the mother. " Take care, 
 mother — take care ! don't you see, it is not 
 he at all, it is another !" She wanted to go 
 near the mother to help her, but could not 
 move from her place. She heard her name 
 being called — again and again. Thorbjorn 
 rushed away and the mother after him. 
 Again she heard herself called. 
 
 " Yes," she said, opening her eyes. 
 
 " Synnové," the voice repeated. 
 
 " Yes," she answered, looking up. 
 
 "Where arc you?" 
 
 " Why, it's the mother herself calling me," 
 said Synnové, starting up, and going to the 
 outer hedge of the siiter — there the mother 
 stood with a basket, looking at her. 
 
 " You don't mean to say you were asleep 
 in broad daylight, and out of doors ! " 
 
 " I was so tired," replied Synnové, " I
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 143 
 
 could not help lying down, and I dropped 
 off without knowing it." 
 
 *' You should not do so, my child ! . . . 
 Here, I have brought you something in the 
 basket ; I was baking yesterday, as the father 
 had to go on a journey." 
 
 But Synnové felt that the mother some- 
 how had another reason for coming to look 
 after her; and surely her dream meant 
 something ! 
 
 Karen, the mother, was, as already stated, 
 a pale fair- haired woman of delicate build 
 and bright blue eyes. She smiled a little 
 when she spoke, but only in addressing 
 strangers. Her features had by degrees 
 assumed a somewhat severe expression ; she 
 was quick in her movements, and never 
 unoccupied. 
 
 Synnové thanked her for coming, and, 
 taking the basket, proceeded to examine its 
 contents. 
 
 " You may do that by and by," said the 
 mother. " I see that your milk pails are not
 
 144 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 yet cleaned. Work first, my child, pleasure 
 and rest afterwards." 
 
 " Yes, mother, it is only to-day that the 
 work remained half-done." 
 
 " Well, as I am here, I may as well help 
 you," continued the mother, tucking up her 
 skirt " You must always use yourself to 
 tidiness, whether I am there or not." She 
 led the way to the dairy, Synnové following. 
 The pails were taken out and washed. The 
 mother examined everything, gave an ad- 
 monition where it seemed needful, was her- 
 self heart and soul in the cleaning process, 
 and thus several hours passed by. During 
 their work she told Synnové how things 
 went at home, and how much she had had 
 to do to get the father shipshape for his 
 journey. Then she inquired whether Syn- 
 nové read her Bible regularly before going 
 to bed at night. " Never forget that," she 
 said, " else your work will not prosper the 
 next day." 
 
 Everything done, they went out and sat
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 145 
 
 down on the low grass to await the cows 
 coming home. Presently the mother asked 
 whether Ingrid would not be returning soon 
 to the såter. Synnové knew no more about it 
 than the mother did. ''That's their going 
 on," continued the mother, and Synnové knew 
 well enough it was not Ingrid she referred to. 
 She tried to turn the conversation, but had 
 scarcely courage to say anything. 
 
 " The Lord visits those who do not bear 
 Him in their hearts, and He comes when 
 they least expect it," said the mother. 
 
 Synnové was silent. 
 
 " I always said the fellow will come to 
 nothing . . . such disgraceful conduct — it's 
 shameful !" 
 
 Both looked down into the valley, taking 
 great care not to meet one another's eyes. 
 
 " I hear it is very bad," the mother went 
 on. SjTinove's chest heaved. 
 
 "Is there any danger?" asked she. 
 
 " Well . . . there is the stab in the side, 
 and other injuries besides ..."
 
 146 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 Synnové felt the blood rush to her temples. 
 She averted her face still more, that the 
 mother might not see it. 
 
 " Perhaps there is no real danger," she 
 said, as calmly as she was able ; but the 
 mother had seen the heaving and gasping, 
 and answered quietly — 
 
 " No, there is no imminent danger." 
 
 Then Synnové began to understand that 
 something really dreadful had happened. 
 
 " Is he in bed ?" asked she. 
 
 " Yes, of course, he is in bed. It is most 
 sad for the poor parents, such honest people. 
 And they brought him up well — the Lord 
 will not require it of their hands." 
 
 Synnove' felt so overpowered she knew not 
 how to master her feelings. The mother 
 went on : 
 
 " One ought to be thankful tliat no one 
 had bound herself to him. But, indeed, the 
 Lord always appoints things as they are 
 best." 
 
 Synnovd felt so giddy she thought she
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 147 
 
 could scarcely keep herself from falling down 
 the mountaui. 
 
 " Yes, I always said to the father, We have 
 only this one child, and, please God, we will 
 take care of her. He is a little soft-hearted, 
 the father, though he is a right good man ; 
 and it is well that he knows to take good 
 counsel where he finds it ; that is, in the Word 
 of God." 
 
 But Synnove, thinking of her father and 
 how good he had always been to her, found 
 still more difficulty in swallowing her tears. 
 They rose in spite of her, and she burst out 
 cr>'ing. 
 
 "You are crying?" said the mother, turn- 
 ing towards her, but she could not see her 
 face. 
 
 " Yes ... I am thinking of the father . . . 
 and " she stopped, stifled by her tears. 
 
 " But, my dear child, what is it ?" 
 
 "Oh! ... I don't know ... I feel I 
 must cry ... if something happened to him 
 on the journey," and she sobbed piteously.
 
 148 SYNXOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 *' What can you mean ? " said the mother ; 
 " what should happen to him ? ^^'hy, he has 
 the most beautiful road to town ..." 
 
 "Yes, but just think . . . how . . . the 
 other fared," wailed the poor girl, 
 
 " The other ? . . . I daresay ! But the 
 father does not fly at people like a madman. 
 You'll see him return quite safe, if so be that 
 God does not turn His hand from him." 
 
 But these tears, which would not be com- 
 forted, set the mother thinking ; suddenly 
 she said — 
 
 " There are many things in this world 
 which are hard to bear ; but then one should 
 just consider that there are much harder 
 things still." 
 
 " That is sad comfort," replied Synnove, 
 amid her tears. 
 
 The mother dared not say quite all that 
 was in her heart, but she said this : 
 
 " The Lord God sometimes directs things 
 quite visibly; no doubt His hand is in this 
 also."
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN 149 
 
 With these words she rose, for the cattle 
 began lowing on the heights above them, the 
 cow-boys blew their horns, and the herd came 
 slowly along ; the cattle had fed, and were 
 consequently in peaceful mood. She stood 
 waiting, then she asked Synnove to go with 
 her to meet them. Synnove got up and fol- 
 lowed the mother ; but it was slow walking. 
 
 Karen Solbakken found herself now fully 
 occupied. One cow after another came 
 down ; they all knew her, and lowed for 
 pleasure. She patted them, talked to them, 
 and felt happy among them, seeing their 
 thriving condition. 
 
 " Yes," she said, " the Lord forsakes no 
 one who does not forsake Him." 
 
 She assisted Synnove in getting home the 
 cattle, for everything seemed to go slowly 
 with Synnove to-day. The mother saw it, 
 and helped her with the milking, although 
 she had to stay longer than she had intended. 
 At last, when the milk was strained and put 
 up for creaming, the mother was ready to go.
 
 ISO SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 Synnové prepared to go with her part of the 
 way. 
 
 " No, no !" said the mother. " I daresay 
 you are tired and need rest now." And, 
 taking the empty basket, she held out her 
 hand, saying, as she looked straight in the 
 girl's eyes, " I will come again soon and see 
 how you get on. . . . Hold by us, and do 
 not think of others." 
 
 The mother had barely left when Synnove' 
 began to turn it over in her mind how she 
 might quickest get a message to Granliden. 
 She called Thorbjorn's brother to send him ; 
 but when he came she was frightened to trust 
 herself to him, and said she had called him 
 by mistake. Then she thought of going her- 
 self For certainty she must have, and it 
 was not nice at all of Ingrid to leave her 
 altogether without news. It was a beautiful 
 clear night, and the distance was not so great 
 that she could not have gone, drawn thither 
 as she was by such a matter. As she sat con- 
 sidering, everything came back to her that
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 151 
 
 the mother had said, and her tears flowed 
 afresh ; and now she could hesitate no longer. 
 Throwing a shawl about her, she went stealthily 
 that the boys should not perceive it. 
 
 The farther she advanced the more she 
 hastened her steps, and soon she fell into a 
 running, so that small stones were sent rolling 
 down the path, frightening her with the 
 sounds thus occasioned. Although she knew 
 it was merely the patter of stones, she yet 
 had a feeling as if some one were near. She 
 stood to listen ; no, there was nobody. On 
 she went again, even faster than before, till 
 she trod upon a large stone sticking loosely 
 in the ground ; but giving way now, it de- 
 scended noisily down the hill, carrying earth 
 and branches along with it. There seemed 
 to be noises all about her, and again she stood 
 frightened, growing still more alarmed when 
 she perceived a figure rising and moving on 
 the road below. She thought first it was 
 some wild animal, and stood with bated 
 breath ; but the figure also stopped, sending
 
 152 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 up a "Who's there?" It was the mother. 
 Synnove's first action was to jump beside the 
 path and hide in a bush. She Hstened anxi- 
 ously, fearing the mother had recognised her, 
 and would be coming back, but she did not. 
 She waited, that the mother might get to safe 
 distance ; and when she went on herself it 
 was cautiously; yet she reached GranUden 
 before long. 
 
 She felt her heart beating when she saw 
 the farm before her, and the nearer she came 
 the more it beat. All was still. Some farming 
 utensils stood against the wall, firewood lay 
 piled up for use, and the axe was stuck firmly 
 in the block. She went through the yard to 
 the door, where she paused. No sound was 
 to be heard ; and as she stood meditating 
 whether she would go up to Ingrid's garret- 
 room, the thought struck her it would have 
 been just such a night when, all those years 
 ago, Thorbjorn came over to Solbakken to 
 plant her flowers. Taking off her shoes with a 
 quick movement, she went softly up the stair.
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 153 
 
 Ingrid was not a little frightened when she 
 roused and saw it was Synnove who had 
 waked her. 
 
 *' How is he ?" whispered Synnove. 
 
 Then Ingrid understood. She wanted to 
 rise and dress first, to avoid a direct answer ; 
 but Synnove sat down on the bed, and, 
 begging her to He still, repeated her question. 
 
 " He is better now," replied Ingrid in a 
 whisper. " I daresay I shall soon be back 
 to the sater." 
 
 " Dear Ingrid, do not hide anything from 
 me. You cannot tell me anything so bad 
 that I had not feared worse." 
 
 Ingrid still tried to soften her answers ; but 
 Synnove gave her no time to consider her 
 words. There were whispered questions and 
 whispered answers, rendered more awful still 
 by the deep silence all around — one of those 
 solemn moments when one dares to look 
 even the most terrible truth straight in the 
 face. One thing was beyond doubt with 
 both, that Thorbjorn's guilt, if any, was very
 
 154 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 small indeed, and that no wickedness of his 
 rose between them and their love for him. 
 Both cried much, though very softly ; Syn- 
 nove's tears, however, came deepest. She 
 sat on the bed shaken to her inmost soul. 
 
 Ingrid tried to comfort her, reminding her 
 of all the pleasant hours they three had had 
 together. She meant to give her something 
 cheerful to think about, but she only suc- 
 ceeded in making matters worse ; for every 
 little recollection of bygone days seemed a 
 fresh cause of despairing tears. 
 
 "Has he asked after me?" whispered 
 Synnove. 
 
 " He scarcely speaks at all." 
 
 But Ingrid remembered now the slip of 
 paper, and it lay heavy on her heart. 
 
 " Can he not speak ?" 
 
 " I hardly know. . . . rcrhai)s he thinks 
 the more." 
 
 " Does he read?" 
 
 "The mother read to him llic first day, 
 and now he looks for it every day."
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 155 
 
 "What does he say?" 
 
 "Well, you see, hardly anything; he just 
 lies quiet." 
 
 "Is he in the painted room?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Looking towards the window ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 Both were silent ; then Ingrid began again : 
 
 " The little whirlabout you once gave him 
 hangs at the window, where he sees it." 
 
 " Well, I don't care," said Synnove sud- 
 denly, with determination ; " no one in the 
 world shall make me give him up now, 
 happen what may." 
 
 Ingrid drew a deep breath. 
 
 " The Doctor does not know if ever he 
 will be quite well again," she whispered. 
 
 Synnove raised her head, forcing back her 
 tears, and looked at Ingrid without saying a 
 word. Dropping her eyes, she sat thought- 
 ful ; the last slow tears trickled down her 
 face, but no fresh ones followed. She folded 
 her hands and sat motionless, as though she
 
 IS6 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 were taking a great resolution ; then with a 
 sudden smile she bent over Ingrid, giving her 
 a long and loving kiss. 
 
 " If he is helpless, I will nurse him. I 
 shall now speak with my parents." 
 
 These words pained Ingrid's heart ; but 
 before she could find an answer Synnove 
 seized her hand, saying, 
 
 " Good-bye, Ingrid ! I'll go back by my- 
 self," and she turned to leave. 
 
 " There is a bit of paper," whispered 
 Ingrid. 
 
 "A bit of paper?" repeated Synnove. 
 
 Ingrid was up now looking for it, and as 
 her left hand placed the little note into Syn- 
 nove's bosom, her right arm stole round her 
 friend, to whom she now paid back her kiss. 
 Synnove' felt big hot tears drop on her face. 
 Then Ingrid led her gently out of the room, 
 locking the door behind her. She dared not 
 look at what was to follow. 
 
 Synnove went downstairs softly in her 
 stocking-feet. But many thoughts were busy
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 157 
 
 within her ; she made a heedless noise, grew 
 frightened, and ran with the shoes in her 
 hand past the outhouses to the Uttle wicket- 
 gate beyond. There she stopped to put on 
 her shoes, and then went away with rapid 
 strides up the hill. Humming some tune to 
 herself, she walked faster and faster, till she 
 grew tired and had to sit down. Then only 
 she remembered the little paper. 
 
 The next morning, when the dog began to 
 bark and the boys awoke, when the cows 
 should be milked and let out, Synnove had 
 not returned. 
 
 As the boys stood wondering what could 
 have become of her, for they had discovered 
 that her bed had remained untouched that 
 night, Synnove herself appeared. She was 
 very pale, and said nothing. Quietly she 
 prepared the boys' breakfast, put provisions 
 for the day into their bags, and set about the 
 milking. 
 
 The mist hung heavy on the lower moun-
 
 IS? SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 tain ridges, the ruddy pasture lay sparkling 
 with dew ; it was cold, and the dog's barking 
 echoed clear and crisp from the heights. The 
 cows were let out ; each greeted the fresh 
 morning air with a long-drawn low, and made 
 away for the meadow-gate. But there the 
 dog sat watching, and allowed none to pass 
 till all were ready, then he made way for the 
 herd. The tinkle of their bells went forth like 
 a stream of sound over the hills, the dog's 
 barking shook the quiet air, and the boys 
 blew merrily through their shepherd's horn. 
 
 Synnové turned away from all this, turned 
 to the spot where she and Ingrid used to 
 sit, looking down upon the valley. Her 
 eyes were tearless : she sat very still, look- 
 ing into the waking landscape, and hearing 
 from time to time the different sounds which 
 blended in harmony the more distant they 
 became. 
 
 Presently she began singing to herself, 
 softly at first, but louder and louder, break- 
 ing into clearer sounds, as the song took
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 159 
 
 shape, following another which she had 
 known since she was a child. 
 
 " I thank thee for all that now is past, 
 The happy hours of childhood's play ; 
 I thought it thus would for ever last 
 And gild every coming day. 
 
 " I thought these hours would twine a bond 
 
 From the silvery birch-tree where we played 
 To the happy home, and still beyond. 
 Till near the church we are laid. 
 
 " How many an evening I waited for thee, 
 
 My longing eyes o'er the Firside would roam ; 
 But the shadows sunk low on the willow tree. 
 Thou found'st not the way to my home. 
 
 " Yet my fainting heart on trust would rest : 
 
 ' Thou wilt come if I patiently wait for thee ! ' 
 But the days would rise and go to the west — 
 Thou cam'st not to comfort me. 
 
 " It is hard for the poor and longing eye 
 
 To turn away from its long-loved home ; 
 It has but a tear, and the heart but a sigh — 
 But where shall it henceforth roam ! 
 
 " The place where yet there is hope to be found, 
 They say, is the peaceful church on the hill ; 
 Yet even there my heart would be bound, 
 It would meet him and think of him still.
 
 i6o SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 " I know not why God should have brought us so 
 close, 
 Why the homesteads should neighbour each 
 other so well, 
 ^^'hy each of the other, where'er each goes. 
 Should hear, I cannot tell ! 
 
 " I know not why even the church should say : 
 There's a bond that remains between you still ! 
 We knelt there together the selfsame day, 
 One blessing our hearts did fill."
 
 CHAPTER VIL 
 
 It was some time after these events that 
 Guttorm and Karen sat one day in the large 
 sunlit room at Solbakken, reading to each 
 other out of some new books which had but 
 lately come from the town. They had been 
 to church in the morning, for it was Sunday ; 
 and then they had made the round of the 
 place to see how the harvest was getting on, 
 and to consider which fields should in the 
 coming year be allowed to rest and which 
 should be sown. Slowly they went all round 
 their farm, and it seemed to them it had 
 visibly prospered under their hands. 
 
 " God knows how things will be when we 
 are no longer here !" Karen had said. 
 
 It was then that Guttorm had proposed 
 
 M
 
 i62 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 they should now go in and look at the new 
 books. " One had better not keep thinking 
 of what might happen." 
 
 But the new books were soon looked over, 
 and Karen thought the old were best, " for," 
 said she, '* people always copy the old ones 
 over again." 
 
 " There may be some truth in that," 
 assented Guttorm. " Samund said to me 
 in church to-day, one always found the 
 parents again in the children." 
 
 " You and Samund had much to talk 
 about to-day, I observed." 
 
 " Samund is a sensible man." 
 
 " He seems forgetful sometimes of his 
 Lord and Saviour." 
 
 Guttorm did not answer. 
 
 " Where is Synnové," the mother asked, 
 presently. 
 
 " She is in the garret-room," replied he. 
 
 " You were sitting with lier not long ago 
 — how do you think she is ? " 
 
 " Hm — I sliould say "
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 163 
 
 " You should not have left her to mope 
 by herself." 
 
 " Somebody came." 
 
 The wife was silent awhile. 
 
 "Who came?" 
 
 " Ingrid Granliden." 
 
 " Ingrid ? I thought she was still on the 
 såter." 
 
 " She came home to-day that the mother 
 might be able to go to church." 
 
 " True, she was there — a rare thing for 
 her.» 
 
 " She has much to see to at home." 
 
 " So have other people ; but one always 
 manages to go where one would like to be." 
 
 Guttorm (Jjd not reply, and after a pause 
 Karen went on : 
 
 " The Granliden folks were all at church 
 to-day with the exception of Ingrid." 
 
 " Yes, it was natural they should wish to 
 accompany Thorbjorn on his first church- 
 going after that long illness." 
 
 " He looked still far from strong."
 
 i64 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 " Better than one could expect I was 
 astonished to see him look as well as he did." 
 
 " Yes ; he has paid heavily for his folly." 
 
 Guttorm considered, saying presently : 
 
 " Yet, he is still so young !" 
 
 " There is no real foundation in him — 
 one cannot depend on him." 
 
 Guttorm, who sat with his elbow on the 
 table, his hand fidgeting with a book, fell 
 to reading, his eyes being apparently occu- 
 pied with the print. Yet, after some silence, 
 he dropped the words : 
 
 " They think he will quite recover his 
 health again." Now the mother was taken 
 up with a book. 
 
 " That would be nice for such a fine 
 fellow," she said, as though reading it from 
 her book. " May the Lord teach him to 
 make in future a better use of his health." 
 
 They went on reading. After some time 
 Guttorm remarked, turning over a leaf: 
 
 " He did not look at her once during the 
 whole of the service."
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN, 165 
 
 " Yes, I too noticed that he sat without 
 looking up till she had left." 
 
 ** Do you think he will forget her?" 
 
 " It would be best if he did." 
 
 Guttorm went on reading, and his wife 
 turning over page after page. 
 
 " I wish Ingrid would not remain with 
 her such a time," she said at last. 
 
 " Synnové has hardly anybody now with 
 whom she could speak." 
 
 " She has her parents." 
 
 Guttorm raised his eyes : 
 
 " We must not be too hard upon her." 
 
 The wife was silent, and then said : 
 
 " Well, I never forbade her coming." 
 
 Guttorm closed his book, and went to the 
 window, examining the prospect. 
 
 " There is Ingrid, going home," he said. 
 
 No sooner had Karen heard this than she 
 left the room. Guttorm remained gazing 
 across the fields, after which he betook him- 
 self to marching up and down the room. 
 When his wife returned, he stood still and 
 looked at her.
 
 i66 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN, 
 
 " It is just as I thought," said she. " I 
 found her sitting and crying; but no sooner 
 did she perceive me, she bent over her 
 chest as though busy with her things." And 
 after some silence she continued, shaking 
 her head : " No, it is not good that she sees 
 much of Ingrid." 
 
 Saying this, she began preparing the sup- 
 per, which kept her going in and out of the 
 room. Synnové entered while her mother 
 happened to be absent. Her eyes were 
 heavy and red with crj'ing. Passing close 
 by her father, she looked up into his face ; 
 and then sat down at the table, taking up a 
 book, closing it soon, however, as she asked 
 her mother whether she should help her. 
 
 " Yes, by all means," was the answer ; 
 " occupation is good for most things." 
 
 She went to set the table ready. The 
 father, who had been going up and down in 
 the room, now stepped to the window and 
 looked out. 
 
 " I believe the barley, which the storm
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 167 
 
 had beaten to the ground, is lifting its head 
 again," said he. 
 
 Synnové went up close to him, looking 
 out also. He turned round to her, but as 
 his wife just entered the room, he merely 
 passed his hand gently over her hair. 
 
 They supped, but almost in silence. 
 
 It was always the mother who gave thanks 
 before and after meals. When they had done 
 she proposed reading and singing — "The 
 Word of God brings peace, and after all it is 
 the greatest blessing in the house." As she 
 said this she looked at Synnové, whose eyes 
 were fixed on the ground. " I will tell you 
 a story," the mother went on, " every word 
 of which is true, and not without its lesson 
 to those who will take it." And she began : — 
 
 "When I was young there was a girl at 
 Haug, the grandchild of an old learned 
 burgomaster. He took her early into his 
 house that she might become the joy and 
 comfort of his old age ; and, of course, he 
 taught her the Word of God, bringing her up
 
 i68 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 well in all things. She learned easily, and 
 was soon beyond any of us. When she was 
 fifteen years old, she could read, write, cipher, 
 knew all her schoolbooks by heart, and five 
 and twenty chapters of the Bible besides. I 
 remember her well. She preferred serious 
 occupation to dancing, and one saw her but 
 rarely where pleasure was the object ; indeed, 
 she spent most of her time in her grand- 
 father's garret-room, where he kept his many 
 books. If ever we met her she looked as 
 though her thoughts were far away, and we 
 used to wish we were half as clever as Karen 
 Haugen. 
 
 " As she was to inherit all her grandfather 
 possessed, many an honest young man was 
 ready to go shares with her ; but she refused 
 them all. About this time the pastor's son 
 came home from the University; his exami- 
 nation did not appear to have gone off very 
 well, for frolic and dissipation had had more 
 of his attention than his studies, and lately 
 he had even begun drinking.
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 169 
 
 " * Beware of him ! ' her grandfather said. 
 ' I have had much to do with great folks, 
 and in my opinion peasant people are more 
 to be trusted than they.' 
 
 " Karen always listened to his advice, and 
 when she happened to meet this pastor's boy 
 she turned from him. But he left her no 
 peace, and wherever she went she met him. 
 
 " ' You had better leave me alone,' she 
 said ; 'it is of no use.' 
 
 '* He waylaid her wherever he could, so 
 that at last she was caught, and had to listen 
 to him. He was a handsome fellow. But 
 when he said he could not live without her, 
 she grew frightened and ran away. Then he 
 kept watching her house, but she remained 
 indoors. He placed himself before her 
 window at night, but she did not show her- 
 self; he said he would kill himself, but Karen 
 knew better. At last he began drinking 
 violently. 
 
 " ' Take care,' said the grandfather, ' it's 
 all put on.'
 
 I70 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 " One night he appeared suddenly in her 
 very room. No one knew how he had come in. 
 
 " ' I shall kill you ! ' he said. 
 
 " ' Very well ; if you have the courage to 
 do it ! ' replied she. 
 
 " Then he began to cry, and said it was 
 in her power to make a man of him. 
 
 " ' Could you give up the drink for a whole 
 six months?' said she. 
 
 " And for six months he allowed himself 
 not a drop. 
 
 " ' Do you believe me now ?' he asked. 
 
 " ' No, not till you have kept aloof for 
 another six months of pleasure and dissipa- 
 tion of any kind.' 
 
 " He did so. 
 
 " ' Do you believe me now?' 
 
 " ' No,' said she, ' not till you have been 
 back to your studies and finished your course 
 honourably.' 
 
 " He did so, and returned ordained for the 
 ministry. 
 
 *" Do you believe me now?' said he,
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 171 
 
 Standing before her in his actual vest- 
 ments. 
 
 " ' I should like to hear your preaching,' 
 replied Karen. 
 
 " And she did hear him preach the Word, 
 true and unalloyed as a servant of the Lord's, 
 speaking of his own unworthiness, and how 
 easy the overcoming was, once the first step 
 in the right direction had been taken, and 
 how sweet the peace of God was, if one had 
 only found it. 
 
 " And he went again to Karen, 
 
 " ' I believe now,' she said, ' that you will 
 live as you preach. But I must tell you that 
 I have for the last three years been engaged 
 to be married to my cousin Andrew Haugen. 
 You shall put up our bans next Sun- 
 day.' . . ." 
 
 The mother stopped. Synnove had not 
 paid much attention- at first, but soon she 
 listened with growing interest. 
 
 "Is that all?" she now asked, quite ex- 
 cited.
 
 172 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 " Yes," said the mother. 
 
 Guttorm looked at his wife ; she did not 
 meet his gaze, but corrected herself. 
 
 " There might be some more . . . but it 
 does not matter." 
 
 "Is it the end of it?" asked Synnove, 
 turning to the father, who seemed to know 
 the story. " Well . . . not quite ; but, as 
 the mother says, it does not matter." 
 
 "What happened to him ?" asked Synnove. 
 
 " Well — that is just the point," said the 
 father, looking at his wife. Karen was lean- 
 ing back in her chair, looking at both of 
 them. 
 
 "Was he very unhappy?" asked Synnove, 
 softly. 
 
 " We must stop when we have come to 
 the end," concluded the mother, rising. The 
 father too rose, and Synnove followed their 
 example.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A FEW weeks later all the inhabitants of 
 Solbakken prepared one Sunday morning to 
 go to church. It was Confirmation-day — it 
 fell earlier than usual this year — and on such 
 occasions the houses were locked ; everybody 
 went to church. They would not drive, for 
 the weather was clear and bright ; the early 
 morning had been fresh and windy, but it 
 promised to be a fine day. 
 
 Their way lay round the valley and past 
 Granliden, where it turned to the right, and 
 a good half- hour's walking beyond would 
 bring them to the church. The corn had 
 been cut nearly everywhere, and stood in 
 sheaves ; the cattle had been brought down 
 from the hills and were grazing in the valley.
 
 174 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 The meadows bore their aftermath, and where 
 the soil was poor, it was of a grayish brown. 
 Round about them rose the many-coloured 
 woods : the birch was beginning to lose her 
 summer hue ; the alder had paled to a sickly 
 yellow j the ash stood shrivelled and brown, 
 but with bright red berries. There had been 
 a several days' rain, and the shrubs along the 
 road, which had been very dusty, were now 
 clean and fresh. But the hillsides began to 
 look upon the valley with gloomy brow ; 
 autumn had already swept them bare, leaving 
 them empty and cold ; while the swollen 
 brooks, which during the summer had not 
 had much to say, came rushing along with 
 merry noise, foaming and spluttering on their 
 way. The Granlidcn brook seemed less 
 youthful but more turbulent, especially when 
 it reached the Granliden soil, where the rock 
 which had hitherto accompanied it, hemming 
 in its course, stopped suddenly behind. The 
 forsaken brook gave quite a start, breaking 
 loose with sucli a roar tliat tlie steady old
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 175 
 
 rock almost trembled, and indeed had a good 
 ducking for its treachery, the brook sending 
 great gushes of water over it. Some curious 
 alder shrubs having ventured too near the 
 precipice, were almost carried off their feet, 
 and stood groaning in the continuous splash. 
 The brook was especially liberal to-day. 
 
 Thorbjorn, his parents, brothers and sisters, 
 with the rest of the household, were just 
 passing along this tumult. Thorbjorn was 
 quite well again, and able to help the father 
 with his strong arm. The two were almost 
 always together now, and were so to-day. 
 
 " I rather think it's the Solbakken folks," 
 said Samund, " not far behind us." 
 
 Thorbjorn did not look round, but the 
 mother rejoined : 
 
 " Yes, it's they . . . but where is . . . 
 oh ! I see — quite at the back . . ." 
 
 Either the Granliden people now walked 
 faster, or the Solbakken party fell behind, for 
 the distance between them increased till at 
 last they lost sight of each other. Evidently
 
 176 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 there would be a large attendance at church 
 to-day ; the road was crowded with people 
 walking, riding, or driving to church. The 
 horses, well fed in the autumn, and little 
 used to meet in such numbers, were restless 
 and pranksome, which made riding a little 
 dangerous perhaps, but added to the lively 
 appearance of the scene. 
 
 The nearer they came to the church the 
 more noisy grew the horses. Each one 
 arriving neighed loudly to greet those already 
 there, and these returned the salutation by 
 pulling at their traces, stamping with their 
 hind legs, and neighing vigorously. All the 
 dogs of the valley, which during the week 
 had sat lonely at home, hearing and perhaps 
 barking at each other, assembled now by the 
 church, and broke loose in pairs or packs, 
 fighting and yelping across the fields. The 
 people stood quietly near the church wall, 
 talking with one another, half whispering, 
 and watching each other covertly. The 
 path along the wall was not wide, and the
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 177 
 
 houses bordering it on the off-side stood 
 close together. The women as a rule had 
 the wall, the men posting themselves along 
 the houses. Only after they had stood 
 some Httle time they took courage to ap- 
 proach each other, and even close acquaint- 
 ances, catching sight of one another, did not 
 draw nearer till tliey considered the proper 
 moment for doing so had arrived — except 
 perhaps when they had unknowingly been 
 landed so near each other that an immediate 
 interchange of greeting could scarcely be 
 avoided ; but then it was done with half- 
 averted face and few words, after which each 
 retired to convenient distance. 
 
 When the Granliden people had appeared 
 the general attitude grew even more silent 
 than before. Siimund did not see many 
 friends, and passed quickly along the line. 
 Ingeborg and her daughter, however, were 
 caught at the very outset. The men had 
 therefore to come back through the whole 
 row when it was time to go into the church.
 
 178 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 At this moment three carts arrived more 
 noisily even than any of the others, and 
 drove right among the assembly. Samund 
 and Thorbjorn had almost been run over, 
 and looked up simultaneously. In the first 
 vehicle they saw Knud Nordhang and an 
 old man ; in the second Knud's sister and 
 her husband; in the third their servants. 
 Father and son looked at each other ; Sa- 
 mund's face was illegible ; Thorbjorn grew 
 pale. As their eyes parted, they fell on the 
 people of Solbakken, who had remained 
 behind in order to greet Ingeborg and 
 Ingrid. But the Nordhang carts had dashed 
 between them and broken the thread of 
 their conversation ; they were yet looking 
 after them and could not easily find words 
 again. At this moment they caught sight of 
 Samund and Thorbjorn, who had mean- 
 while approached and seen them. Guttorm 
 moved away, but his wife at once looked 
 at Thorbjorn, to discover, if possible, tlie 
 direction of his eyes. Synnové, who no
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 179 
 
 doubt had met their glance, now turned 
 round to Ingrid, shaking hands with her, 
 although she had already done so. But 
 suddenly all seemed aware that their neigh- 
 bours were watching them, Siimund there- 
 fore walked boldly across to Guttorm, and 
 said with averted face : " Thanks for the 
 last ! " 
 
 " Thanks the same," replied Guttorm. 
 
 Then Samund turned to his wife — " Have 
 thanks for the last ! " 
 
 " Have thanks yourself," said Karen, not 
 raising her eyes. 
 
 Thorbjorn followed his father's example, 
 proffering the same greeting. Samund had 
 now come to Synnové ; at her he looked, 
 and she too looked up at him, quite for- 
 getting her " Thanks for the last." 
 
 Now it was Thorbjom's turn. He said 
 nothing, and she said nothing. They shook 
 hands, but without pressure ; neither was 
 able to look up ; neither could move a step. 
 So they stood before each other.
 
 iSo SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 " It will be a fine day," said Karen, look- 
 ing quickly from one to the other. 
 
 It was Samund who answered : " Oh yes, 
 no doubt ; I see the wind driving away the 
 clouds." 
 
 " That will be well for the com where it 
 yet needs drying," said Ingeborg, beginning 
 to pass her hand down the back of her hus- 
 band's coat, probably because she thought it 
 needed brushing. 
 
 " The good God has given us a fruitful 
 year, but we cannot yet tell whether every- 
 thing will be safely housed," observed Karen, 
 still watching the two young folks, who con- 
 tinued on the same spot. 
 
 " That will depend on the number of 
 hands," replied Samund, coming round in 
 front of her, so that she could not well sec 
 the spot she seemed so anxious to watch. 
 " I often thought things would go much 
 better if some of the farms were to unite 
 their efforts." 
 
 " Well, but it might be that both parties
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. i8i 
 
 wished to secure the fine weather for them- 
 selves," said Karen, moving a step side- 
 ways. 
 
 " No doubt," rejoined Ingeborg, coming 
 up beside her husband, so that even now 
 Karen could not have her eyes on a certain 
 spot ; " but then, you see, the corn ripens 
 sooner in some places than in others. For 
 instance, you at Solbakken are always a fort- 
 night before us." 
 
 " Yes, we might well be helping each 
 other," assented Guttorm slowly, approach- 
 ing a step. Karen looked at him. " But 
 there are many things that may upset one's 
 plans." 
 
 " Certainly there are many unexpected 
 things," repeated Siimund, but he could not 
 help smiling a little. 
 
 " Yes, certainly " began Guttorm, but 
 
 his wife interrupted him. 
 
 " Human planning is of little avail ; the 
 Lord is above it all ; things will always go as 
 He sees well."
 
 i82 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 " It could, however, surely not displease 
 Him if the Solbakken and Granliden folks 
 were to help each other at harvest time," 
 interposed Samund. 
 
 " No," said Guttorm, " it could not pos- 
 sibly displease Him." And he looked 
 anxiously at his wife. 
 
 She tried to turn the conversation, 
 
 " How many people have come to-day ! 
 It does one good to see them honour the 
 House of God." 
 
 No one seemed to have an answer ready, 
 but Guttorm responded presently : 
 
 " No doubt the fear of God increases in 
 the world ; more people appear to be going 
 to church now than when I was young." 
 
 " Yes, there are more people in the world 
 every year," remarked Samund. 
 
 " There may be many, I suppose most, 
 who only come for the sake of habit," con- 
 tinued Karen. 
 
 " I suppose so, especially the young," said 
 Ingeborg.
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 183 
 
 " The young folks like to meet each other," 
 added Samund. 
 
 " Have you heard that the pastor is think- 
 ing of leaving us ? " interposed Karen, again 
 trying to turn the conversation. 
 
 "That would be a thousand pities," said 
 Ingeborg ; " he has christened and confirmed 
 all my children." 
 
 "And I suppose you would not like him 
 to go till he had married them as well," 
 added Samund, playing with a bit of wood 
 he had picked up. 
 
 " I am surprised the church should not 
 be opened yet," said Karen, looking uneasily 
 at its doors. 
 
 " Yes, especially when it is so hot out 
 here," replied Samund, smiling again. 
 
 " Come, Synnové, let us go in." 
 
 Synnové started, and turned round ; she 
 had been talking with Thorbjorn. 
 
 "Wouldn't you rather wait here till the 
 bells begin to ring?" suggested Ingrid, glanc- 
 ing at Synnové ; and Ingeborg added : " We 
 could then all go in together."
 
 i84 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN 
 
 Synnové stood silent, but Siimund turned 
 to her : 
 
 "Wait a little while longer and they will 
 be ringing for thee." 
 
 And she blushed. The mother gave her 
 a sharp look, but Samund smiled at her. 
 
 " Did not you just say that things happen 
 as the Lord sees well ! " said he to Karen. 
 Thereupon he led the way to the church, 
 the others following. 
 
 At the entrance there was quite a crowd 
 ef people pressing forward to go in ; looking 
 closer they found the doors had not yet been 
 opened. They were, however, just opening, 
 and the influx began. But some of the people 
 having gone in, came out again, thus confusing 
 the arrivals and separating friends. Close to 
 the church two men stood talking. One of them 
 was tall and broad-shouldered, with fair but 
 bristling hair and a pug nose. It was Knud 
 Nordhaug, who, perceiving the Granliden 
 party coming nearer, stopped talking, looking 
 conscious, without, however, moving away.
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 185 
 
 Såmund, who had to pass him first, looked 
 at him sternly; but Knud did not drop 
 his eyes, although he appeared somewhat 
 abashed. Synnové, passing next, and find- 
 ing herself thus unexpectedly fiice to face 
 with Knud, grew deathly pale. At this 
 Knud's eyes fell, and he turned as though 
 trying to move away. But the first step 
 brought him straight opposite to four pairs 
 of eyes — Guttorm's, Ingeborg's, Ingrid' s, 
 and Thorbjorn's. Half dazed, he walked 
 ahead and stopped short, facing Thorbjorn, 
 who on his part would have liked to step 
 aside, but could not for the thronging people. 
 Thus the two met on the paved approach to 
 the church; a little above them Synnové 
 remained standing, and not far from her 
 stood Såmund, seen by all, and themselves 
 watching the two below. Synnove's eyes, 
 indeed, forgetful of aught else, were riveted 
 on Thorbjorn's face. Samund looked from 
 one to the other, so did his wife, Ingrid and 
 Synnove's parents coming up behind the
 
 iS6 SVNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 two. Thorbjorn stood rooted to the ground, 
 feeling the eyes of all upon him, Knud 
 seemed to think he ought to do something, 
 so he put forth his hand a little, yet said 
 nothing. Thorbjorn's hand advanced, but 
 not far enough to meet Knud's. 
 
 " Thanks for the last," Knud began, but 
 it struck him this was scarcely an appropriate 
 greeting between them ; he stepped back, 
 feeling guilty. 
 
 Thorbjorn looked up ; his eyes beheld the 
 white face of Synnové watching them. With 
 a great stride forward he caught Knud's 
 hand and said, loud enough for all to hear : 
 
 " Thanks for the last, Knud ; perhaps it 
 was good so — for both of us." 
 
 Knud gave a sound, something between a 
 gulp and a grunt, trying to speak but could 
 not. Thorbjorn, who had nothing more to 
 say, stood and waited — ^just waited without 
 looking up or beyond them. But no words 
 appeared to be coming, and as he stood, 
 turning his hymn-book in his hands, it so
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAlCKEN. 187 
 
 happened that it dropped from his hold. 
 Knud bent quickly, picking it up for him, 
 
 " Thank you ! " said Thorbjorn, himself 
 making a movement towards the fallen book. 
 Knud's eyes again dropped to the ground, 
 and Thorbjorn, seeing it, thought : " I had 
 better leave him," and he left him. 
 
 The others, too, moved on, entering the 
 church. Having settled in his pew, Thor- 
 bjorn looked across to the women ; and 
 behold ! not only his mother sat smiling at 
 him, but Karen Solbakken's eyes seemed 
 awaiting his look ; for no sooner had she 
 caught it than she nodded to him, not once 
 but three times ; and seeing him astonished, 
 she nodded again and yet again with un- 
 mistakable approval, Samund, his father, 
 whispered to him : " That's what I have been 
 expecting." 
 
 The introductory prayer was now offered 
 up, and a hymn sung. The boys and girls 
 about to be confirmed were taking their 
 places when Samund whispered again : " But
 
 i88 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 it will be hard for Knud to mend his ways. 
 Let Granliden and Nordhang be well apart 
 in future." 
 
 The confirmation service began. The 
 pastor stepped to the altar, and the children, 
 rising, sang the time-honoured confirmation 
 hymn. It always makes an impression on 
 the listening congregation to hear the clear, 
 tuneful, and trust-filled voices of the children 
 thus united — especially on those who them- 
 selves have not proceeded so far on life's 
 road as to have forgotten the day when they 
 themselves had come to the altar. And 
 such impression deepens when the pastor — 
 the same, perhaps, for twenty years, who at 
 one time or another may have stood soul to 
 soul with each of them — now crosses his 
 hands on his heart and begins his charge. 
 The children's tears rise first, as he com- 
 mends them earnestly to the parents' prayers. 
 Thorbjorn, who but a short time before felt 
 himself a dying man, and even later still 
 liad thought he would remain weak and
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 189 
 
 crippled for life, could not forbid his tears, 
 but let them flow unchecked, especially when 
 the children pronounced their solemn vow 
 of faith and steadfast living — believing every 
 one of them they would keep it faithfully. 
 
 Not once during the service did he look 
 across to the women's pew ; but when it 
 was over he stepped to Ingrid, whispering a 
 few words to her, after which he moved 
 away quickly and was lost in the crowd. 
 Some thought afterwards they had seen him 
 turn from the road that would be his way 
 home, taking a path up the hillside instead, 
 leading into the wood ; but no one was sure. 
 Samund looked for him, but when he dis- 
 covered that Ingrid too had vanished he 
 gave it up, addressing himself to the Sol- 
 bakken people ; but lo ! they too were 
 busy asking for Synnové, whom nobody had 
 seen. Thus it came that each forsaken 
 parent couple went home — each two by 
 themselves. Synnové and Ingrid meanwhile 
 had hastened on along the path.
 
 I90 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 " I am almost afraid I should not have 
 come," said the former. 
 
 " It can be no wrong," replied the other, 
 " for the father knows." 
 
 " But he is not my father ! " 
 
 " Who can tell ! " returned Ingrid, and 
 then they were silent again. 
 
 " I think it is here we should wait," re- 
 sumed Ingrid presently, when they had 
 reached a spot where the path made a 
 great swerve, bringing them right into the 
 wood. 
 
 " His is a longer way to come by," said 
 Synnové. 
 
 " Yet here he is," interrupted Thorbjorn, 
 stepping from behind a great stone. 
 
 He had arranged everj'thing in his head 
 what he would say, and that was not a little. 
 And he would have it out all plain and easy 
 to-day, for the father evidently approved — 
 of this he could not doubt after what had 
 happened before church. And besides he 
 had longed all the summer through for just
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 191 
 
 such an hour — indeed it must be quite easy 
 now to say his say. 
 
 "We had better go by the wood," he 
 began, "it is the shortest way home." 
 The girls said nothing, but followed. 
 Thorbjorn was determined to speak now 
 with Synnové, but first he thought he would 
 wait till they had reached the top of the 
 hill, then till they had passed the bog ; but 
 when not only the hillside but also the bog 
 lay behind them, he fancied it would be 
 better to get farther into the wood. 
 
 Ingrid, no doubt thinking that matters 
 were slow of beginning, fell behind, till by 
 degrees she became altogether invisible. 
 Synnové pretended not to be aware of it; 
 bending from time to time, she plucked of 
 the berries growing by the way. 
 
 " It would be extraordinary if after all 
 there should be no talking," thought Thor- 
 bjorn, and so he began : 
 
 " This is most beautiful weather to-day." 
 " Yes, indeed," returned Synnové.
 
 192 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 Again they walked on in silence, she 
 pulling her berries. 
 
 " It is very nice of you to have come," 
 ventured he at last. 
 
 To this she had no answer." 
 
 " The summer has been so very long." 
 
 Again no answer. 
 
 " This will never do ! " thought Thor- 
 bjorn ; " and if we walk on at that rate 
 there will not be any talking." Whereupon 
 he said aloud : " I think we had better wait 
 for Ingrid." 
 
 " I think we had," assented Synnové, and 
 they stopped walking. 
 
 There were no berries here which she 
 could have plucked, and Thorbjorn had 
 been aware of this. But she caught up a 
 long stalk, and was busy stringing upon it 
 the berries which she had plucked before. 
 
 " To-day reminded me so much of the 
 time when we went to the church to be con- 
 firmed together." 
 
 " So it did me," she answered.
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 193 
 
 •' Much has happened since." And as she 
 was silent he went on : " But most has turned 
 out differently than we expected." 
 
 Synnové was still bent upon her berries, 
 stringing them anxiously, which kept her 
 head from him. He moved a little, for he 
 wanted to see her face, but she somehow 
 managed to turn it again from him. 
 
 He began to be really afraid that he 
 should not manage his say at all. " Syn- 
 . nové, I rather think you ought to have 
 something to say — haven't you?" 
 
 Now she looked up, and could not help 
 laughing. 
 
 " I ? What should I have to say ? " 
 
 This seemed to bring back his courage ; 
 he felt bold enough to kiss her ; but when he 
 had come close enough to do so, he did not 
 quite dare, and only asked, rather bashfully : 
 
 " Has not Ingrid spoken to you ? " 
 
 " Yes," she said 
 
 " Then you /lave something to say ? " 
 
 She was silent. 
 
 o
 
 194 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 "You surely have something to say?" 
 he reiterated, going quite close again. 
 
 " Well, and so have you," she said at last, 
 hiding her face from him. 
 
 " Yes," he replied, and would have taken 
 one of her hands, but she seemed more than 
 ever taken up with her berries. 
 
 " It is most disheartening that you do not 
 let me speak." He could not see whether 
 she smiled or not, and did not therefore 
 know how to proceed. 
 
 " What have you done with that paper?" he 
 said at last, with determined yet uncertain voice. 
 
 She turned in silence. But following her, 
 he laid his hand on her shoulder, bending 
 now over her. 
 
 " Tell me ! " he whispered. 
 
 " I burned it." 
 
 He caught her face, turning it towards 
 him; but seeing the tears rising, he again 
 lost courage, and dared not proceed. 
 
 " It is strange her tears should come so 
 easily," said he to himself
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 195 
 
 Yet as they stood, she found voice to say 
 softly : 
 
 " Why did you write it ? " 
 
 " Has not Ingrid told you . . ? " 
 
 " Yes, but — it was very cruel of you." 
 
 " The father thought it right." 
 
 " But it was . . ." 
 
 " He thought I should be disabled for life; 
 but now I shall take care of you." 
 
 At this moment Ingrid came in sight, and 
 they moved on. 
 
 " I never loved you so much as when I 
 believed I should lose you." 
 
 " One finds out one's wishes best when 
 one is alone with them," said she. 
 
 "Yes, then one discovers who has most 
 power over us," continued he with a clear 
 voice, walking on earnestly beside her. 
 
 She had stopped plucking berries. 
 
 " Would you like these ? " she said, hold- 
 ing out her stalk. He took the hand which 
 offered it. 
 
 " Then I suppose it will be best to leave
 
 196 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 things as they used to be ? " and his voice 
 trembled a little. 
 
 "Yes," she whispered, scarcely audible, 
 and turned away. 
 
 Thus they went on side by side, and 
 while she was silent he dared not touch her 
 nor speak to her; but he felt strangely 
 elated, till indeed his head turned quite 
 giddy. Everything went dancing before his 
 eyes, and as they reached a height whence 
 they could see Solbakken resting in sunshine 
 it appeared to him as the spot where he had 
 lived all his life, and he felt drawn to it as 
 to the home of his youth. 
 
 " I had better go over with her at once," 
 thought he, growing in courage the more he 
 looked at the place, and strengthening his 
 resolution with every step. " The father 
 shall help me ; I cannot put it off another 
 day ; it shall be now ! " And he marched 
 ahead. All around him glowed in light and 
 sunshine. " Yes, to-day — I'll not put it off 
 another hour ! " And he felt so strong —
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 197 
 
 every pulse beating with a power that would 
 carry him straight to the point. 
 
 " You are quite running away from me," 
 said a gentle voice behind him. It was 
 Synnové, who could no longer keep up with 
 his impetuous strides. 
 
 He turned ashamed, and went back 
 towards her with outstretched arms, saying 
 to himself : " She shall be my queen — I will 
 lift her high above me ! " But when he 
 stood before her, he did nothing of the 
 kind. 
 
 " I have walked too fast," he said humbly. 
 
 " Yes, indeed," she replied. 
 
 They reached the high road, and Ingrid, 
 of whom nothing was to be seen all this 
 time, appeared suddenly close behind them. 
 
 " Now you shall no longer run away from 
 me," she said. 
 
 Thorbjorn started ; the sister came all too 
 soon. Synnové, too, felt strangely over- 
 taken. 
 
 " I had so much to say to you," Thor-
 
 198 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 bjorn whispered. She could not suppress a 
 smile. 
 
 "Well," she said, "some other time." 
 And he took her hand. 
 
 She looked into his face, her honest eyes 
 full of a tenderness that sank into his soul, 
 and he thought : " I will go with her at 
 once." But she withdrew her hand gently 
 from his clasp, and turning to Ingrid bid her 
 goodbye. Thorbjorn did not even attempt 
 to follow her. 
 
 The brother and sister walked home 
 through the wood. 
 
 "Well, have you had your say?" asked 
 Ingrid. 
 
 " Of course not — why, there wasn't time 
 for anything ! " And Thorbjorn again took 
 to faster walking, as if to avoid his sister's 
 questioning. 
 
 *' Well ? " said the father, looking up from 
 his dinner when the two entered. 
 
 Thorbjorn gave no answer, but walked to 
 the further side of the room, no doubt for
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 199 
 
 the sake of hanging up his Sunday coat. 
 Ingrid smiled. Siimund went on with his 
 dinner, but his eyes ever again with a mis- 
 chievous twinkle rested on Thorbjorn, who 
 appeared immensely occupied with his coat. 
 
 " You had better attend to your dinner," 
 the father said at last, "it is getting cold." 
 
 " I am not hungry, thank you," replied 
 Thorbjorn, sitting down. 
 
 " Indeed ? " — and Samund continued his 
 meal, saying presently : " You seemed in a 
 great hurry after church." 
 
 "There were folks one had to talk to." 
 
 " Well — and did you talk to them ? " 
 
 " I am not sure," said Thorbjorn. 
 
 "Very strange," remarked Samund, and 
 went on eating. 
 
 When he had done, he rose and stood in 
 the window, looking out. Turning suddenly 
 he said : 
 
 " Suppose we go and have a look at the 
 fields." 
 
 Thorbjorn jumped up, all readiness.
 
 200 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 "You might as well take your coat." 
 
 Thorbjorn had been sitting in his shirt 
 sleeves ; he now took his everyday jerkin 
 from the wall. 
 
 " Don't you see I have my Sunday best 
 on?" said the father. 
 
 Thorbjorn therefore resumed his Sunday 
 coat and they went out, the father first, the 
 son following. 
 
 They came to the high road. 
 
 "Aren't we going to look at the barley?" 
 
 "No, let's look at the wheat first." 
 
 Just as they had reached the high road, a 
 car came in sight. 
 
 " These are Nordhang people," said Sa- 
 mund, looking up. 
 
 " It is the newly-married couple," returned 
 Thorbjorn. 
 
 The car came nearer and drew up. 
 
 " She is certainly a magnificent damsel 
 this Marit Nordhang," whispered Samund, 
 who could not take his eyes from her. She 
 was leaning back on her seat ; a shawl was
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 201 
 
 wound carelessly round her head, another 
 covered her shoulders. She looked straight 
 at Samund and Thorbjorn ; her powerful yet 
 delicate features were calm as death. Her 
 husband looked pale and worn ; his face 
 bore that expression of peculiar meekness 
 which comes from silent sorrow. 
 
 " Making the round of your fields ? " he 
 said. 
 
 " We are," replied Samund. 
 
 "The harvest bids fair." 
 
 " Oh yes ; it might be worse ..." 
 
 "You are late home," remarked Thor- 
 bjorn. 
 
 " I had to take leave of so many people 
 after church," said the young husband. 
 
 "What! are you going on a journey?" 
 asked Samund. 
 
 " I am indeed." 
 
 " Shall you be gone long ? " 
 
 "Well — rather, I should say." 
 
 " And where may you be going? " 
 
 " To America."
 
 202 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 " To America ? " exclaimed Samund and 
 Thorbjorn, with one voice of astonishment 
 "A man just married ! " added Samund. 
 
 The young husband smiled. 
 
 " I expect I shall stay here on account of 
 my foot, said the fox — when he was caught 
 in a trap." 
 
 Marit looked first at him then at the 
 others. A slight flush rose in her face, which 
 yet remained motionless. 
 
 " I suppose you take your wife with you?" 
 asked Samund. 
 
 " No, she is going to stay at home." 
 
 " They say America is a grand place 
 for making money," interposed Thorbjorn 
 quickly, feeling somehow that a pause might 
 be awkward. 
 
 " Oh — yes ! " assented the poor husband. 
 
 "But Nordhang is such a goodly in- 
 heritance," remarked Samund. 
 
 "There are too many of us," was the 
 answer. 
 
 Again his wife gave him a look.
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 203 
 
 "I shall not be missed," he added. 
 
 " Well — good luck on your journey," said 
 Samund, holding out his hand. " May the 
 Lord give you your desire." 
 
 Thorbjorn also shook hands with his old 
 schoolfellow, but said significantly : 
 
 " I want a talk with you before you go ! " 
 
 "It is nice to have a friendly chat with 
 some one," returned the other, describing 
 figures with his whip. 
 
 " Well, come and see us," said Marit. 
 
 Thorbjdrn and Samund looked up aston- 
 ished ; they had forgotten she had such a 
 pleasing voice. 
 
 The pair drove away, slowly. A light 
 dust cloud enveloped them. The evening 
 beams shed a lustre around them, setting 
 her gaily- coloured silken shawl in strong 
 relief against his darker clothes; there was 
 a rise in the road, and the young couple 
 vanished behind it ... . 
 
 Father and son went on in silence. 
 
 " It seems to me it will be a long journey 
 for him," said Thorbjorn at last.
 
 204 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 "That would seem best," returned Sa- 
 mund, "if happiness cannot be found at 
 home." 
 
 And they were silent again. 
 
 " Why — we have passed the wheat ! " 
 exclaimed Thorbjorn presently. 
 
 "We can look at it as we return." 
 
 And they went on. Thorbjorn did not 
 like to ask whither; for they had left the 
 Granliden fields behind them.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Guttorm and Karen Solbakken had finished 
 their dinner when Synnové entered, flushed 
 and almost out of breath. 
 
 " My dear child ! " asked the mother, 
 "where did you remain?" 
 
 *'I stayed behind with Ingrid," answered 
 Synnové, beginning to divest herself of a 
 couple of shawls. The father meantime was 
 busy looking for a book. 
 
 " What can you have been talking about 
 to keep you such a time?" 
 
 " Oh — nothing particular." 
 
 "Then you would have done better to 
 keep with us," said the mother, putting 
 dinner before her. 
 
 Synnové sat down, and the mother, taking 
 her place just opposite her, went on :
 
 io6 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 "Were there some other people, perhaps, 
 who might have been talking also?" 
 
 "Yes, there were." 
 
 "There can be no harm in the child's 
 talking with people," interposed Guttorm. 
 
 " Oh, none — in the least," said the mother. 
 "Yet the child might have walked home 
 with her parents." 
 
 There was a pause. 
 
 " It was a happy Sunday," Karen began 
 presently ; "it does one good to hear the 
 children's earnest promises." 
 
 "Yes, and it makes one think of one's 
 own children." 
 
 "So it does," said the mother, sighing. 
 "And one feels anxious about them." 
 
 There followed a long pause. 
 
 "We have much to thank God for," 
 rejoined Guttorm at last — "He has pre- 
 served us one child." 
 
 The mother sat with downcast eyes, her 
 finger drawing figures on the table before 
 her.
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 207 
 
 " Yes, she is our one joy," she said, softly ; 
 " and she has always been a good girl," 
 added she, softer still. 
 
 Another pause. 
 
 "Yes, she has always been a joy to us," 
 repeated Guttorm ; adding after a while — 
 " May the Lord give her all happiness." 
 
 The mother still drew figures on the table. 
 A tear dropped, and the finger went over it. 
 
 "Why don't you eat?" asked the father, 
 looking up after this. 
 
 " I am not hungry," replied Synnové. 
 
 " But you have eaten nothing," said the 
 mother in her turn ; " and you had such a 
 long walk." 
 
 " I cannot eat," said Synnové. 
 
 " Do take something," continued the 
 father, 
 
 " I cannot," repeated Synnové, and her 
 eyes filled. 
 
 " But, my child, what is it?" 
 
 " I don't know," she sobbed. 
 
 " Her tears come so easily," said the
 
 2o8 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 mother. And the father, rising, went to the 
 window. 
 
 " I perceive two men coming here," said 
 he after some silence. 
 
 "Two men! really?" asked the mother, 
 making for the window. 
 
 They both looked out. 
 
 "Who can they be?" said Karen, but not 
 exactly putting the question. 
 
 " I don't seem to know," returned Gut- 
 torm, still looking out. 
 
 " It does seem strange." 
 
 " It does." 
 
 The men approached. 
 
 " I think it must be they," said she at last. 
 
 " I think it must," assented Guttorm. 
 
 The two came nearer and nearer. The 
 elder of them stopped, looking about him- 
 self; so did the younger, after which they 
 continued their walk. 
 
 " Have you any idea what they can be 
 coming for?" asked Karen. 
 
 " Not in the least," answered Guttorm.
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 209 
 
 The mother turned, and began setting the 
 table tidy, 
 
 "You might as well put on your neck- 
 cloth again, dear child ; these men seem to 
 be coming here." 
 
 No sooner had she said this than Samund 
 entered, followed by Thorbjorn. 
 
 " God's blessing on the party," said Sa- 
 mund, standing upon the threshold ; after 
 which he stepped forward with a greeting to 
 each. Thorbjorn did the same. Synnove 
 stood behind her parents, the kerchief in 
 her hands. She did not appear to know 
 whether she should put it on or not ; per- 
 haps, indeed, she knew not she had it in her 
 hands. 
 
 "Take a seat," said the mother to the 
 visitors. 
 
 " Thank you ; we are not tired," replied 
 Samund, but sat do\\Ti; Thorbjorn sitting 
 do\\Ti beside him. 
 
 "We lost sight of you after church," re- 
 marked Karen. 
 
 p
 
 2IO SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 " Yes, I could not see you anywhere," said 
 Samund. 
 
 "There were many people," continued 
 Guttorm. 
 
 " A great many," assented Samund. " It 
 was a blessed church-day." 
 
 " We were just saying so," replied Karen. 
 
 " And we said such a day makes one think 
 of one's own children." 
 
 " Just so," said Samund; "it makes one 
 think of them . . . and that is one reason 
 why I have come here this afternoon." 
 
 Guttorm's, Karen's, and Thorbjorn's eyes 
 wandered about uneasily, as though looking 
 for some object that might prove a safe resting- 
 place, while Samund proceeded slowly : 
 
 "I thought it best to come over myself 
 with Thorbjorn ; he would have been a long 
 time about it by himself — indeed, I fear he 
 does not quite know how to help himself in 
 this matter." And he glanced at Synnove, 
 who, although she saw not, seemed )ct to be 
 aware of the look. "'I'hc Inilh is that ever
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 211 
 
 since he has been old enough to think of 
 these things, he has set his heart on Synnové 
 . . . and I believe it is the same with her. 
 I am inclined to judge, therefore, it might not 
 be amiss to let them have each other. . . . 
 I did not favour it much wliile I saw he was 
 not fit to guide himself, far less another. But 
 now, I think I can answer for him, or if I 
 cannot, she can, for she appears to have most 
 influence over him now. , . . What do you 
 say, then? Shall we let them have each 
 other? There is no hurry, but neither do I 
 see why we should wait. You, Guttorm, are 
 a well-to-do man ; I, certainly, am not quite 
 so rich, and I have several to provide for ; but 
 at the same time I see no obstacle. Say now 
 what you think of it ... as for her, I'll 
 ask her last, for I think I know her mind." 
 
 Thus Samund. Guttorm sat, bent forward, 
 putting each hand by turns upon the other. 
 He made repeated attempts at drawing him- 
 self up, but did not succeed without four or 
 five deep-drawn breaths. Then only he got
 
 212 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 his back straight, and stroking his knee he sat 
 looking at his wife in a way which included 
 Synnové in his gaze. 
 
 But the wife sat mute. No one could 
 judge from the expression of her face. She 
 sat at the table, her forefinger drawing figures 
 upon it, as before. 
 
 " This is no doubt a very handsome offer," 
 she said at last. 
 
 " It seems to me we might do worse than 
 accept it with thanks," replied Guttorm, and 
 looked as though he felt immensely relieved 
 by this statement, his eye gliding from Karen 
 to Samund and back to Karen. 
 
 "We have but this one child," continued 
 she; "we must consider." 
 
 "There is no reason why you should not," 
 rejoined Samund ; "at the same time, I do 
 not see what should hinder an immediate 
 reply — as the bear said, having asked the 
 peasant for his cow." 
 
 " Yes, I think we might give an answer," 
 said Guttorm, still looking at his wife.
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 213 
 
 " We might — only that Thorbjorn is some- 
 what wild." 
 
 " As to that, I think I have observed him 
 changed lately," replied Guttorm. ..." You 
 know yourself what you said this very morn- 
 ing. . . ." 
 
 Thereupon the husband and wife sat gazing 
 at one another, a full minute, silently. 
 
 " If one could but be sure of him," said 
 she at last. 
 
 " Well," interposed Samund again, " as to 
 that, I can but repeat what I have said al- 
 ready ; it will be steady driving if she keeps 
 a hold on the reins. It is marvellous what 
 power she has over him. I saw that more 
 and more when he lay ill, and we knew not 
 what the end might be — whether he would 
 rise again or not." 
 
 " You must not hold out any longer, wife 
 — you know her mind, and after all lier happi- 
 ness is ours !" 
 
 At these words Synnove for the first time 
 raised her eyes, looking at her father with 
 deep, glowing gratitude.
 
 214 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 *' Yes, yes," said Karen, her finger gliding 
 faster and faster over the table ; " if I have 
 put myself against it till now, it was just be- 
 cause of that . . . and perhaps I did not 
 feel as hard as I spoke, . . ." 
 
 She looked up smiling, but tears stood in 
 her eyes. And Guttorm rose — 
 
 " It has come about, then, what I have 
 wished for more than anything else in life," 
 said he, and walked across to Synnove. 
 
 " I have never doubted but that it would 
 come about," said Siimund, rising also ; " if 
 two are meant for one another, they'll get one 
 another." And he joined the others. 
 
 " But what does the child say to it all ?" 
 asked the mother, who also had moved to- 
 wards Synnove. 
 
 The girl kept her seat, motionless. They 
 all surrounded her, except Thorbjorn, who 
 was still sitting where he had first sat 
 down. 
 
 " You must get up, my child," whispered 
 the mother.
 
 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 215 
 
 She rose, smiled, and turned her face 
 away, for the tears were coming. 
 
 "The dear Lord be with thee, now and 
 always," continued the mother, taking her to 
 her arms and crying with her. 
 
 The two men walked away, each in a 
 different direction. 
 
 " You must go to him now," said the 
 mother, loosing her hold and pushing her 
 forward gently. 
 
 Synnove walked a step and stood still ; it 
 seemed impossible to proceed. But Thor- 
 bjorn started up, and approaching her, seized 
 her hand ; not knowing, however, whether he 
 might do more, he stood before her holding 
 it, until she withdrew it slowly. 
 
 And thus they stood, face to face, in silence. 
 
 At this moment the door was opened noise- 
 lessly, and a head appeared. 
 
 " Is Synnove here ? " asked a shy little 
 voice. It was Ingrid Granliden. 
 
 " Yes, she is ; come in," said her father. 
 Ingrid hesitated.
 
 2i6 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 " Come in ; it's settled now," added he. 
 
 They all looked at her. She seemed em- 
 barrassed. 
 
 " There is some one else outside," she said 
 at last. 
 
 "Who is it?" asked Guttorm. 
 
 " It's the mother," she answered, softly. 
 
 " Let her come in !" four voices exclaimed 
 at once ; and Karen walked to the door, the 
 others looking well pleased. 
 
 " Come in, mother," they heard Ingrid say, 
 " it is all well." And Ingeborg Granliden, 
 in her snow-white cap, entered the room. 
 
 " I guessed that something was happen- 
 ing," she said, " although Siimund keeps liis 
 own counsel. And we two could not refrain 
 from coming." 
 
 " Yes," returned Siimund, "just that has 
 happened that you wished for most." And 
 he stepped aside that she might approach the 
 young people. 
 
 " May God bless you for having drawn 
 him towards you," said Ingeborg, taking
 
 SYNNOVÉ SOLBAKKEN. 217 
 
 Synnové to her heart, holding her fast. " You 
 have kept faith to the last, my child ; and 
 see, your desire has been given you." She 
 stroked the girl's cheeks gently. Her own 
 tears fell fast, she heeded them not, but wiped 
 Synnove's carefully and tenderly. 
 
 " Yes, and it is after all a fine lad whom 
 you now have. ... I need no longer fear 
 for him." And again she pressed Synnové 
 to her heart. 
 
 "The mother understands her chickens 
 better than we who supposed ourselves so 
 wise," remarked Samund. 
 
 Their happiness grew quiet at last. Karen 
 began to think of supper, begging little In- 
 grid to assist her, " for Synnové is no good 
 to-night," she said ; and the two were soon 
 busy preparing the evening meal, while the 
 men talked about the harvest. 
 
 Thorbjorn was sitting apart at the window, 
 when Synnové, approaching him softly, laid 
 her hand on his shoulder. 
 
 " What are you looking at ?" she whispered.
 
 2i8 SYNNOVE SOLBAKKEN. 
 
 He turned his head, gazed long and ten- 
 derly into her eyes, and glancing away again : 
 
 " I am looking at Granliden," he said, 
 . . . "it is strange that I can look at it now 
 from Solbakken. . . ." 
 
 THE END. 
 
 rrinUdhy R. & R. Ci.ark, Edinburgh.
 
 Messrs. MACMILLAN & Co.'s Publications. 
 
 Loukis Låras ; or, The Reminiscences of 
 
 a Chiote Merchant durincj the Greek War of 
 Independence. From the Greek of D. Bikelas. 
 Translated, with Introduction on the Rise and 
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