AtT-^j iXJ*--^' <^ THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES "5> •v'b 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 Development of Modem Greek Literature, by J. Gennadius, late Charge d'Affaircs at the Greek Legation in London. Crown 8vo, 7s. 6d. *^* Uniform in style and binding with Synnové Solbakken. "The English public has lately been reminded of the part which Chio played in the history of the Greek war, by the publi- cation of M. Bikelas's excellent novel ' Loukis Laras,' rendered into English by M. Gennadius. . . . 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