Thenithadoccurredtohimforthefirsttimeinhislifethatawoman’sbehaviorneednotbethelogicalindicatorofherdeepestfeelings，and，enrichedwiththisjoyfuldiscovery，inspiredwithnewhope，hehadreturned，buthadnotdaredatoncetoseektheParsonage，untilhecouldinventsomeplausiblereasonforhisreturn;buthisimaginationwasverypoor，andhehadfoundnone，exceptthathelovedthepastor’sbeautifuldaughter。
　　Theeveningworeon。Thebroadmountain—
　　guardedvalley，floodednowtothebrimwithasoftmistylight，spreadoutaboutthem，andfilledthemwithadelicioussenseofsecurity。
　　Thefjordlifteditsgravegazetowardthesky，anddeepenedresponsivelywithabright，ever—
　　recedingimmensity。Theyounggirlfeltthisblessedpeacegentlystealingoverher;doubtandstrugglewereallpast，andthesunshoneeversereneandunobscureduponthewideningexpansesofthefuture。Andinhisbreast，too，thatmoodreignedinwhichlifelooksboundlessandradiant，humanwoessmallorimpossible，andone’sownselflargeandall—conquering。
　　Inthathourtheyremodeledthisoldandobstinateworldofours，neverdoubtingthat，ifeachunitedhisfaithandstrengthwiththeother’s，theycouldtogetherliftitsburden。
　　ThatnightwasthehappiestandmostmemorablenightinthehistoryoftheGranParsonage。
　　Thepastorwalkedupanddownonthefloor，rubbinghishandsinquietcontentment。Inga，towhomanengagementwasessentiallyasol—
　　emnaffair，satinacornerandgazedathersisterandStrandwithtearfulradiance。Arnfinngaveventtohisjoybybestowingembracespromiscuouslyuponwhomsoeverchancedtocomeinhisway。
　　Thisstory，however，hasabriefbutnotunimportantsequel。ItwasnotmanyweeksafterthishappyeveningthatArnfinnandthemaidenwiththe"amusinglyunclassicalnose"presentedthemselvesinthepastor’sstudyandaskedforhispaternalandunofficialblessing。Butthepastor，Iamtold，grewverywroth，anddemandedthathisnephewshouldfirsttakehissecondandthirddegrees，attaching，besides，someveryodiousstipulationsregardingaverageinstudyandcollegestanding，beforetherecouldbeanytalkaboutengagementormatrimony。
　　So，atpresent，Arnfinnisstillstudying，andthefair—hairedIngaisstillwaiting。
　　TRULS，THENAMELESS。
　　HEwasborninthehouseman’slodge;
　　sheinthegreatmansion。Hedidnotknowwhohisfatherwas;shewasthedaughterofGrimofSkogli，andshewastheonlydaughterhehad。Theywerecarriedtobaptismonthesameday，andhewascalledTruls，becausetheyhadtocallhimsomething;
　　shereceivedthenameofBorghild，becausethathadbeenthenameofeveryeldestborndaughterinthefamilyforthirtygenerations。Theybothcriedwhenthepastorpouredthewaterontheirheads;hismotherhushedhim，blushed，andlookedtimidlyaroundher;
　　butthewomanwhocarriedBorghildliftedherhighupinherarmssothateverybodycouldseeher，andthepastorsmiledbenignly，andtheparishionerssaidthattheyhadneverseensobeautifulachild。Thatwasthewayinwhichtheybeganlife——heasachildofsin，sheasthedaughterofamightyrace。
　　Theygrewuptogether。Shehadroundcheeksandmerryeyes，andherlipswereredderthantheredrose。Hewasofslendergrowth，hisfacewasthinandpale，andhiseyeshadastrange，benumbedgaze，asiftheywerepuzzlingthemselveswithsomesad，life—longriddlewhichtheyneverhopedtosolve。Onthestrandwheretheyplayedthebillowscameandwent，andtheymurmuredfaintlywithasoundofinfiniteremoteness。Borghildlaughedaloud，clappedherhandsandthrewstonesoutintothewater，whilehesatpaleandsilent，andsawthegreatwhite—wingedsea—birdssailingthroughtheblueoceanofthesky。
　　"Howwouldyouliketolivedownthereinthedeepgreenwater？"sheaskedhimoneday，astheysatwatchingtheeider—duckswhichswamanddived，andstoodontheirheadsamongthesea—weeds。
　　"Ishouldlikeitverywell，"heanswered，"ifyouwouldfollowme。"
　　"No，Iwon’tfollowyou，"shecried。"Itiscoldandwetdowninthewater。AndIshouldspoiltheribbonsonmynewbodice。ButwhenIgrowupandgetbigandcanbraidmyhair，thenIshallrowwiththeyoungladstothechurchyonderontheheadland，andtheretheoldpastorwillmarryme，andIshallwearthebigsilvercrownwhichmymotherworewhenshewasmarried。"
　　"AndmayIgowithyou？"askedhe，timidly。
　　"Yes，youmaysteermyboatandbemyhelmsman，or——youmaybemybridegroom，ifyouwouldlikethatbetter。"
　　"Yes，IthinkIshouldratherbeyourbridegroom，"andhegaveheralong，strangelookwhichalmostfrightenedher。
　　Theyearsslippedby，andbeforeBorghildknewit，shehadgrownintowomanhood。ThedownonTruls’scheeksbecamerougher，andhe，too，begantosuspectthathewasnolongeraboy。Whenthesunwaslateandthebreezemurmuredinthegreat，dark—crownedpines，theyoftenmetbychance，atthewell，onthestrand，oronthesaeter—green。Andtheoftenertheymetthemoretheyfoundtotalkabout;tobesure，itwasshewhodidthetalking，andhelookedatherwithhislargewonderingeyesandlistened。Shetoldhimofthelambwhichhadtumbleddownoverasteepprecipiceandstillwasunhurt，ofthebabywhopulledthepastor’shairlastSundayduringthebaptismalceremony，orofthelumberman，Lars，whodrankthekero—
　　senehiswifegavehimforbrandy，andneverknewthedifference。But，whenthemilkmaidspassedby，shewouldsuddenlyforgetwhatshehadbeensaying，andthentheysatgazingateachotherinsilence。OnceshetoldhimoftheladswhodancedwithheratthepartyatHoug;
　　andshethoughtshenoticedadeepercoloronhisface，andthatheclinchedbothhisfistsand——thrustthemintohispockets。Thatsetherthinking，andthemoreshethought，themorecuriousshegrew。Heplayedtheviolinwell;
　　supposesheshouldaskhimtocomeandfiddleatthepartyherfatherwastogiveattheendoftheharvest。Sheresolvedtodoit，andhe，notknowingwhatmovedher，gavehispromiseeagerly。Itstruckher，afterward，thatshehaddoneawickedthing，but，likemostgirls，shehadnotthehearttowrestlewithanuncomfortablethought;sheshookitoffandbegantohumasnatchofanoldsong。
　　"O’erthebillowsthefleet—footedstorm—windrode，Thebillowsbluearethemerman’sabode，Sostrangelythatharpwassounding。"
　　Thememoryofoldtimescamebacktoher，thememoryofthemorninglongyearsago，whentheysattogetheronthestrand，andhesaid;"IthinkIwouldratherbeyourbride—
　　groom，Borghild。"Thememorywassweetbutitwasbittertoo;andthebitternessroseandfilledherheart。Shethrewherheadbackproudly，andlaughedastrange，hollowlaugh。
　　"Abastard’sbride，ha，ha！Afinetalewerethatfortheparishgossips。"Ayellowbutterflylightedonherarm，andwithafiercefrownonherfaceshecaughtitbetweenherfingers。
　　Thenshelookedpityinglyonthedeadwings，astheylayinherhand，andmurmuredbetweenherteeth："Poorthing！Whydidyoucomeinmyway，unbidden？"
　　Theharvestwasrich，andtheharvestpartywastokeeppacewiththeharvest。ThebroadSkoglimansionwasfestivelylighted（foritwasalreadylateinSeptember）;thetall，straighttallowcandles，stuckinmany—armedcandlesticks，shonedimlythroughasortofmistyhalo，andonlysuffusedtheduskwithafaintglimmeringoflight。Andeverytimeaguestentered，theflamesofthecandlesflickeredandtwistedthemselveswiththewind，strugglingtokeeperect。AndBorghild’scourage，too，roseandfellwiththeflickeringmotionofaflamewhichwrestleswiththewind。WheneverthelatchclickedsheliftedhereyesandlookedforTruls，andonemomentshewishedthatshemightneverseehisfaceagain，andinthenextshesentaneagerglancetowardthedoor。Presentlyhecame，threwhisfiddleonabench，andwitharecklessairwalkeduptoherandheldouthishand。Shehesitatedtoreturnhisgreeting，butwhenshesawthedeeplinesofsufferinginhisface，herheartwentforwardwithagreattendernesstowardhim，atendernesssuchasonefeelsforachildwhoissick，andsufferswithouthopeofhealing。Shelaidherhandinhis，andthereitlayforawhilelistlessly;forneitherdaredtrustthejoywhichthesightoftheotherenkindled。Butwhenshetriedtodrawherhandaway，hecaughtitquickly，andwithasuddenfervorofvoicehesaid：
　　"Thesightofyou，Borghild，stillsthehungerwhichisraginginmysoul。Bewarethatyoudonotplaywithalife，Borghild，eventhoughitbeaworthlessone。"
　　Therewassomethingsohopelesslysadinhiswords，thattheystunghertothequick。Theylaidbareahiddendeepinherheart，andsheshrankbackstthesightofherownvileness。
　　Howcouldsherepairtheinjuryshehaddonehim？Howcouldshehealthewoundshehadinflicted？AnumberofguestscameuptogreetherandamongthemSyvertStein，abold—look—
　　ingyoungman，who，duringthatsummer，hadledherfrequentlyinthedance。Hehadasquareface，strongfeatures，andahugecropoftowyhair。Hisracewasfar—famedforwitanddaring。
　　"Tardyisyourwelcome，BorghildofSkogli，"
　　quothhe。"Butwhatafaintheartdoesnotgiveaboldhandcangrasp，andwhatIamnotofferedItakeunbidden。"
　　Sosaying，heflunghisarmaboutherwaist，liftedherfromthefloorandputherdowninthemiddleoftheroom。Trulsstoodandgazedatthemwithlarge，bewilderedeyes。Hetriedhardtodespisethebraggart，butendedwithenvyinghim。
　　"Ha，fiddler，strikeupatunethatshallringthroughmarrowandbone，"shoutedSyvertStein，whostruckthefloorwithhisheelsandmovedhisbodytothemeasureofaspring—dance。
　　Trulsstillfollowedthemwithhiseyes;
　　suddenlyheleapedup，andawildthoughtburnedinhisbreast。Butwithanefforthecheckedhimself，graspedhisviolin，andstruckawailingchordoflament。Thenhelaidhisearclosetotheinstrument，asifhewerelisteningtosomelivingvoicehiddentherewithin，ranwa—
　　rilywiththebowoverthestrings，andwarbled，andcaroled，andsangwithmaddeningglee，andstillwithashiveringundercurrentofwoe。Andtheduskwhichsleptupontheblackrafterswasquickenedandshookwiththeweirdsound;
　　everypulseinthewidehallbeatmorerapidly，andeveryeyekindledwithabolderfire。
　　Pressently{sic}aStrongmalevoicesangouttothemeasureoftheviolin：
　　"Come，fairestmaid，treadthedancewithme;
　　Oheighho！"
　　Andaclear，tremuloustrebleanswered：
　　"SogladlytreadIthedancewiththee;
　　Oheighho！"
　　Trulsknewthevoicesonlytoowell;itwasSyvertSteinandBorghildwhoweresingingastave。[8]
　　[8]Astaveisanimprovisedresponsivesong。ItisanancientpastimeinNorway，andiskeptupuntilthisday，especiallyamongthepeasantry。
　　Thestudents，also，attheirsocialgatherings，throwimprovisedrhymestoeachotheracrossthetable，andtherestofthecompanyrepeattherefrain。
　　Syvert——Likebrier—rosesthyredcheeksblush，Borghild——Andthineareroughlikethethornybush;
　　Both——An’aheigho！
　　Syvert——Sofreshandgreenisthesunnylea;
　　Oheighho！
　　Borghild——Thefiddletwangethsomerrily;
　　Oheighho！
　　Syvert——Solightlygoeththelustyreel，Borghild——Androundwewhirllikeaspinning—wheel;
　　Both——An’aheigho！
　　Syvert——Thineeyesarebrightlikethesunnyfjord;
　　Oheighho！
　　Borghild——AndthinedoflashlikeaViking’ssword;
　　Oheighho！
　　Syvert——Solightlytrippeththyfootalong，Borghild——Theairisteemingwithjoyfulsong;
　　Both——An’aheighho！
　　Syvert——Thenfairestmaid，whilethewoodsaregreen，Oheighho！
　　Borghild——Andthrushessingthefreshleavesbetween;
　　Oheighho！
　　Syvert——Come，letusdanceinthegladsomeday，Borghild——Dancehate，andsorrow，andcareaway;
　　Both——An’aheighho！
　　Thestavewasatanend。Thehotandflusheddancersstraggledoverthefloorbytwosandthrees，andthebigbeer—hornswerepassedfromhandtohand。Trulssatinhiscornerhugginghisviolintightlytohisbosom，onlytodosomething，forhewasvaguelyafraidofhimself——
　　afraidofthethoughtsthatmightrise——afraidofthedeedtheymightprompt。Heranhisfingersoverhisforehead，buthehardlyfeltthetouchofhisownhand。Itwasasifsomethingwasdeadwithinhim——asifastringhadsnappedinhisbreast，andleftitbenumbedandvoiceless。
　　PresentlyhelookedupandsawBorghildstandingbeforehim;sheheldherarmsakimbo，hereyesshonewithastrangelight，andherfeaturesworeanairofrecklessnessmingledwithpity。
　　"Ah，Borghild，isityou？"saidhe，inahoarsevoice。"Whatdoyouwantwithme？I
　　thoughtyouhaddonewithmenow。"
　　"Youareaveryunwittyfellow，"answeredshe，withaforcedlaugh。"Thebranchthatdoesnotbendmustbreak。"
　　Sheturnedquicklyonherheelandwaslostinthecrowd。Hesatlongponderingonherwords，buttheirmeaningremainedhiddentohim。Thebranchthatdoesnotbendmustbreak。Washethebranch，andmusthebendorbreak？By—and—byheputhishandsonhisknees，rosewithaslow，uncertainmotion，andstalkedheavilytowardthedoor。Thefreshnightairwoulddohimgood。ThethoughtbreathesmorebrisklyinGod’sfreenature，underthebroadcanopyofheaven。Thewhitemistrosefromthefields，andmadethevalleybelowappearlikeawhiteseawhosenearnessyoufeel，eventhoughyoudonotseeit。Andoutofthemistthedarkpinesstretchedtheirwarninghandsagainstthesky，andthemoonwasswimming，largeandplacid，betweensilveryislandsofcloud。Trulsbegantobeathisarmsagainsthissides，andfeltthewarmbloodspreadingfromhisheartandthawingthenumbnessofhislimbs。Notcaringwhitherhewent，hestruckthepathleadingupwardtothemountains。Hetooktohumminganoldairwhichhappenedtocomeintohishead，onlytotryiftherewaslifeenoughleftinhimtosing。
　　ItwastheballadofYoungKirstenandtheMerman：
　　"Thebillowsfallandthebillowsswell，Inthenightsolone，Inthebillowsbluedoththemermandwell，Andstrangelythatharpwassounding。"
　　Hewalkedonbrisklyforawhile，and，lookingbackuponthepainhehadenduredbutamomentago，hefounditquitefoolishandirrational。Anabsurdmerrimenttookpossessionofhim;butallthewhilehedidnotknowwherehisfootstepped;hisheadswam，andhispulsebeatfeverishly。Aboutmidwaybetweentheforestandthemansion，wherethefieldslopedmoresteeply，grewaclumpofbirch—trees，whoseslenderstemsglimmeredghostlywhiteinthemoonlight。SomethingdroveTrulstoleavethebeatenroad，and，obeyingtheimpulse，hesteeredtowardthebirches。Astrangesoundfelluponhisear，likethemoanofoneindistress。Itdidnotstartlehim;indeed，hewasinamoodwhennothingcouldhavecausedhimwonder。Iftheskyhadsuddenlytumbleddownuponhim，withmoonandall，hewouldhavetakenitasamatterofcourse。Peeringforamomentthroughthemist，hediscernedtheoutlineofahumanfigure。Withthreegreatstrideshereachedthebirch—tree;athisfeetsatBorghildrockingherselftoandfroandweepingpiteously。Withoutawordheseatedhimselfathersideandtriedtocatchaglimpseofherface;butshehiditfromhimandwentonsobbing。StilltherecouldbenodoubtthatitwasBorghild——onehouragosomerry，reckless，anddefiant，nowcoweringathisfeetandweepinglikeabroken—heartedchild。
　　"Borghild，"hesaid，atlast，puttinghisarmgentlyaboutherwaist，"youandI，Ithink，playedtogetherwhenwewerechildren。"
　　"Sowedid，Truls，"answeredshe，strugglingwithhertears。
　　"Andaswegrewup，wespentmanyapleasanthourwitheachother。"
　　"Manyapleasanthour。"
　　Sheraisedherhead，andhedrewhermorecloselytohim。
　　"ButsincethenIhavedoneyouagreatwrong，"beganshe，afterawhile。
　　"Nothingdonethatcannotyetbeundone，"
　　hetookhearttoanswer。
　　Itwaslongbeforeherthoughtstookshape，and，whenatlengththeydid，shedarednotgivethemutterance。Nevertheless，shewasallthetimeconsciousofonestrongdesire，fromwhichherconscienceshrankasfromacrime;
　　andshewrestledineffectuallywithherweaknessuntilherweaknessprevailed。
　　"Iamgladyoucame，"shefaltered。"I
　　knewyouwouldcome。TherewassomethingI
　　wishedtosaytoyou。"
　　"Andwhatwasit，Borghild？"
　　"Iwantedtoaskyoutoforgiveme——"
　　"Forgiveyou——"
　　Hesprangupasifsomethinghadstunghim。
　　"Andwhynot？"shepleaded，piteously。
　　"Ah，girl，youknownotwhatyouask，"
　　criedhe，withasternnesswhichstartledher。
　　"IfIhadmorethanonelifetowaste——butyoucaresswithonehandandstabwiththeother。
　　Faretheewell，Borghild，forhereourpathsseparate。"
　　Heturnedhisbackuponherandbegantodescendtheslope。
　　"ForGod’ssake，stay，Truls，"imploredshe，andstretchedherarmsappealinglytowardhim;
　　"tellme，oh，tellmeall。"
　　Withaleaphewasagainatherside，stoopeddownoverher，and，inahoarse，passionatewhisper，spokethesecretofhislifeinherear。
　　Shegazedforamomentsteadilyintohisface，then，inafewhurriedwords，shepledgedhimherlove，herfaith，herall。Andinthestillnessofthatsummernighttheyplannedtogethertheirflighttoagreaterandfreerland，wherenoworld—oldprejudicefrownedupontheunionoftwokindredsouls。Theywouldwaitinpatienceandsilenceuntilspring;thencomethefreshwindsfromtheocean，and，withthem，thebirdsofpassagewhichawakethelongingsintheNorsernen’sbreasts，andtheAmericanvesselswhichgivecouragetomanyasinkingspirit，strengthtotheweariedarm，hopetothehopelessheart。
　　DuringthatwinterTrulsandBorghildseldomsaweachother。Theparishwasfilledwithrumors，andaftertheChristmasholidayitwastoldforcertainthattheproudmaidenofSkoglihadbeenpromisedinmarriagetoSyvertStein。Itwasthegeneralbeliefthatthefamilieshadmadethematch，andthatBorghild，atleast，hadhardlyhadanyvoiceinthematter。
　　Anotherreportwasthatshehadflatlyrefusedtolistentoanyproposalfromthatquarter，andthat，whenshefoundthatresistancewasvain，shehadcriedthreedaysandthreenights，andrefusedtotakeanyfood。Whenthisrumorreachedthepastor’sear，hepronounceditanidletale;"for，"saidhe，"Borghildhasalwaysbeenaproperandwell—behavedmaiden，andsheknowsthatshemusthonorfatherandmother，thatitmaybewellwithher，andshelivelongupontheland。"
　　ButBorghildsataloneinhergablewindowandlookedlonginglytowardtheocean。Theglaciersglittered，theriversswelled，thebudsoftheforestburst，andgreatwhitesailsbegantoglimmeronthefarwesternhorizon。
　　IfTruls，theNameless，asscofferswerewonttocallhim，hadbeenagreaterpersonageinthevalley，itwould，nodoubt，haveshockedthegossipstoknowthatonefinemorninghesoldhiscow，hisgunandhisdog，andwrappedsixtysilverdollarsinaleathernbag，whichhesewedfasttothegirdleheworeabouthiswaist。ThatsamenightsomeonewasheardplayingwildlyupinthebirchcopseabovetheSkoglimansion;
　　nowitsoundedlikeawailofdistress，thenlikeafierce，defiantlaugh，andnowagainthemusicseemedtohushitselfintoaheart—broken，sorrowfulmoan，andthepeoplecrossedthemselves，andwhispered："OurFather;"butBorghildsatathergablewindowandlistenedlongtotheweirdstrain。Themidnightcame，butshestirrednot。
　　Withthehourofmidnightthemusicceased。
　　Fromthewindowsofhallandkitchenthelightstreamedoutintothedampair，andthedarknessstoodlikeawalloneitherside;within，maidsandladswerebusybrewing，baking，andwashing，forinaweektherewastobeaweddingonthefarm。
　　Theweekwentandtheweddingcame。
　　Trulshadnotclosedhiseyesallthatnight，andbeforedaybreakhesauntereddownalongthebeachandgazedoutuponthecalmfjord，wherethewhite—wingedsea—birdswhirledingreatairysurgesaroundthebarecrags。Farupabovethenoisythronganospraysailedontheblueexpanseofthesky，andquickasthoughtswoopeddownuponahalibutwhichhadventuredtotakeapeepattherisingsun。
　　Thehugefishstruggledforamomentatthewater’sedge，then，withapowerfulstrokeofitstail，whichsentthesprayhissingthroughtheair，divedbelowthesurface。Thebirdofpreygavealoudscream，flappedfiercelywithitsbroadwings，andforseveralminutesathickeningcloudofapplaudingducksandseagullsandshowersofsprayhidthecombatfromtheobserver’seye。Whenthebirdsscattered，theosprayhadvanished，andthewatersagainglitteredcalmlyinthemorningsun。Trulsstoodlong，vacantlystaringoutuponthesceneoftheconflict，andmanystrangethoughtswhirledthroughhishead。
　　"Halloo，fiddler！"criedacoupleofladswhohadcometocleartheweddingboats，"youareearlyonfootto—day。Hereisascoop。Comeonandhelpusbailtheboats。"
　　Trulstookthescoop，andlookedatitasifhehadneverseensuchathingbefore;hemovedaboutheavily，hardlyknowingwhathedid，butconsciousallthewhileofhisowngreatmisery。
　　Hislimbsseemedhalffrozen，andadullpaingatheredabouthisheadandinhisbreast——infact，everywhereandnowhere。
　　Aboutteno’clockthebridalprocessiondescendedtheslopetothefjord。SyvertStein，thebridegroom，trodtheearthwithafirm，springystep，andspokemanyacheerywordtothobride，whowalked，silentandwithdowncasteyes，athisside。Sheworetheancestralbridalcrownonherhead，andthelittlesilverdisksarounditsedgetinkledandshookasshewalked。Theyhailedherwithfiringofgunsandloudhurrahsasshesteppedintotheboat;
　　stillshedidnotraisehereyes，butremainedsilent。Asmallcannon，alsoanheir—loominthefamily，wasplacedamidships，andTruls，withhisviolin，tookhisseatintheprow。Alargesolitarycloud，gold—rimmedbutwiththunderinitsbreast，sailedacrosstheskyandthrewitsshadowoverthebridalboatasitwaspushedoutfromtheshore，andtheshadowfelluponthebride’scountenancetoo;andwhensheliftedit，themotherofthebridegroom，whosatoppositeher，shrankback，forthecountenancelookedhard，asifcarvedinstone——intheeyesamute，hopelessappeal;onthelipsafrozenprayer。Theshadowofthunderuponalifethatwasopening——itwasanillomen，anditsgloomsankintotheheartsoftheweddingguests。Theyspokeinundertonesandthrewpityingglancesatthebride。ThenatlengthSyvertSteinlosthispatience。
　　"Insooth，"criedhe，springingupfromhisseat，"whereisto—daythecheerthatiswonttoabideintheNorseman’sbreast？MethinksI
　　seebutsullenairsandill—bodingglances。Ha，fiddler，nowmoveyourstringslustily！Noneofyourfuneralairs，mylad，butamerrytunethatshallsingthroughmarrowandbone，andmaketheheartleapinthebosom。"
　　Trulsheardthewords，andinaslow，mechanicalwayhetooktheviolinoutofitscaseandraisedittohischin。Syvertinthemeanwhileputahugesilverbeer—jugtohismouth，and，pledginghisguests，emptiediteventothedregs。Butthebride’scheekwaspale;anditwassostillintheboatthateverymancouldhearhisownbreathing。
　　"Ha，to—dayisSyvertStein’swedding—day！"
　　shoutedthebridegroom，growinghotwithwrath。"Letustryiftheironvoiceofthecannoncanwakemyguestsfromtheirslumber。"
　　Hestruckamatchandputittothetouch—
　　holeofthecannon;alongboomrolledawayoverthesurfaceofthewatersandstartledtheechoesofthedistantglaciers。Afainthurrahsoundedfromthenearestcraft，buttherecamenoresponsefromthebridalboat。Syvertpulledthepowder—hornfromhispocket，laughedawildlaugh，andpouredthewholecontentsofthehornintothemouthofthecannon。
　　"Nowmaythedevilcareforhisown，"roaredhe，andsprangupupontherow—bench。Thentherecamealowmurmuringstrainasofwaveletsthatrippleagainstasandyshore。Borghildliftedhereyes，andtheymetthoseofthefiddler。
　　"Ah，IthinkIshouldratherbeyourbridegroom，"whisperedshe，andarayoflifestoleintoherstonyvisage。
　　Andshesawherselfasalittlerosy—cheekedgirlsittingathissideonthebeachfifteenyearsago。Butthemusicgatheredstrengthfromherglance，andonwarditrushedthroughthenoisyyearsofboyhood，shoutingwithwantonvoiceinthelonelyglen，lowingwiththecattleonthemountainpastures，andleapinglikethetroutateventideinthebrawlingrapids;butthroughitallthereranawarmstrainofboyishloyaltyandstrongdevotion，anditthawedherfrozenheart;forsheknewthatitwasallforherandforheronly。Anditseemedsuchabeautifulthing，thislongfaithfullife，whichthroughsorrowandjoy，throughsunshineandgloom，forbetterforworse，hadclungsofasttoher。Theweddingguestsraisedtheirheads，andamurmurofapplauseranoverthewaters。
　　"Bravo！"criedthebridegroom。"Nowatlastthetonguesareloosed。"
　　Truls’sgazedweltwithtendersadnessonthebride。Thencamefromthestringssomeairyquiveringchords，faintlyflushedlikethepetalsoftherose，andfragrantlikeliliesofthevalley;
　　andtheyswelledwithastrong，awakeninglife，androsewithastormyfullnessuntiltheyseemedonthepointofbursting，whenagaintheyhushedthemselvesandsankintoalow，disconsolatewhisper。Oncemorethetonesstretchedouttheirarmsimploringly，andagaintheywrestleddespairinglywiththemselves，fledwithasternvoiceofwarning，returnedoncemore，wept，shuddered，andweresilent。
　　"Bewarethatthoudostnotplaywithalife！"
　　sighedthebride，"eventhoughitbeaworthlessone。"
　　Theweddingguestsclappedtheirhandsandshoutedwildlyagainstthesky。Thebride’scountenanceburnedwithastrangefeverishglow。Thefiddleraroseintheprowoftheboat，hiseyesflamed，hestruckthestringsmadly，andtheairtrembledwithmelodiousrapture。Thevoiceofthatmusicnolivingtonguecaninterpret。Butthebridefathomeditsmeaning;herbosomlaboredvehemently，herlipsquiveredforaninstantconvulsively，andsheburstintotears。Adarksuspicionshotthroughthebridegroom’smind。
　　HestaredintentlyupontheweepingBorghildthenturnedhisgazetothefiddler，who，stillregardingher，stoodplaying，withahalf—frenziedlookandmotion。
　　"Youcursedwretch！"shriekedSyvert，andmadealeapovertwobenchestowhereTrulswasstanding。ItcamesounexpectedlythatTrulshadnotimetopreparefordefense;sohemerelystretchedoutthehandinwhichheheldtheviolintowardofftheblowwhichhesawwascoming;butSyverttoretheinstrumentfromhisgraspanddasheditagainstthecannon，and，asithappened，justagainstthetouch—hole。
　　Withatremendouscrashsomethingblackdartedthroughtheairandawhitesmokebroodedoverthebridalboat。Thebridegroomstoodpaleandstunned。AthisfeetlayBorghild——
　　layforamomentstill，asiflifeless，thenroseonherelbows，andadarkredcurrentbrokefromherbreast。Thesmokescattered。
　　Noonesawhowitwasdone;butamomentlaterTruls，theNameless，laykneelingatBorghild’sside。
　　"ItWASaworthlesslife，beloved，"whisperedhe，tenderly。"Nowitisatanend。"
　　Andheliftedherupinhisarmsasoneliftsabelovedchild，pressedakissonherpalelips，andleapedintothewater。Likeleadtheyfellintothesea。Athrongofwhitebubbleswhirleduptothesurface。Aloudwailrosefromthebridalfleet，andbeforethedaywasatanenditfilledthevalley;butthewaildidnotrecallTruls，theNameless，orBorghildhisbride。
　　Whatlifedeniedthem，wouldtoGodthatdeathmayyieldthem！
　　ASATHOR’SVENGEANCE。
　　I。
　　ITwasrightupunderthesteelmountainwallwherethefarmofKvaerklay。Howanymanofcommonsensecouldhavehitupontheideaofbuildingahousethere，wherenonebutthegoatandthehawkhadeasyaccess，hadbeen，andIamafraidwouldeverbe，amatterofwondertotheparishpeople。However，itwasnotLageKvaerkwhohadbuiltthehouse，sohecouldhardlybemaderesponsibleforitssituation。Moreover，tomovefromaplacewhereone’slifehasoncestruckdeeproot，evenifitbeinthechinksandcrevicesofstonesandrocks，isaboutthesameastodestroyit。Anoldtreegrowsbutpoorlyinanewsoil。SoLageKvaerkthought，andsohesaid，too，wheneverhiswifeElsiespokeofhersunnyhomeattheriver。
　　GloomyasLageusuallywas，hehadhisbrightermoments，andpeoplenoticedthattheseweremostlikelytooccurwhenAasa，hisdaughter，wasnear。LagewasprobablyalsotheonlybeingwhomAasa’spresencecouldcheer;onotherpeopleitseemedtohavetheveryoppositeeffect;forAasawas——accordingtothetestimonyofthosewhoknewher——themostpeculiarcreaturethateverwasborn。Butperhapsnoonedidknowher;ifherfatherwasright，noonereallydid——atleastnoonebuthimself。
　　Aasawasalltoherfather;shewashispastandshewashisfuture，hishopeandhislife;
　　andwithalitmustbeadmittedthatthosewhojudgedherwithoutknowingherhadatleastinonerespectasjustanopinionofherashe;fortherewasnodenyingthatshewasstrange，verystrange。Shespokewhensheoughttobesilent，andwassilentwhenitwaspropertospeak;weptwhensheoughttolaugh，andlaughedwhenitwaspropertoweep;butherlaughteraswellashertears，herspeechlikehersilence，seemedtohavetheirsourcefromwithinherownsoul，tobeoccasioned，asitwere，bysomethingwhichnooneelsecouldseeorhear。
　　Itmadelittledifferencewhereshewas;ifthetearscame，sheyieldedtothemasiftheyweresomethingshehadlongdesiredinvain。Fewcouldweeplikeher，and"weeplikeAasaKvaerk，"wassoonalsoaddedtothestockofparishproverbs。Andthenherlaugh！Tearsmaybeinopportuneenough，whentheycomeoutoftime，butlaughterisfarworse;andwhenpoorAasaonceburstoutintoaringinglaughterinchurch，andthatwhiletheministerwaspronouncingthebenediction，itwasonlywiththegreatestdifficultythatherfathercouldpreventtheindignantcongregationfromseizingherandcarryingherbeforethesheriffforviolationofthechurch—peace。Hadshebeenpoorandhomely，thenofcoursenothingcouldhavesavedher;butshehappenedtobebothrichandbeautiful，andtowealthandbeautymuchispardoned。Aasa’sbeauty，however，wasalsoofaveryunusualkind;notthetamesweetnesssocommoninhersex，butsomethingofthebeautyofthefalcon，whenitswoopsdownupontheunwatchfulsparroworsoarsroundthelonelycrags;somethingofthemysticdepthofthedarktarn，whenwithbodefultremblingyougazedownintoit，andseeitsweirdtraditionsrisefromitsdepthandhoveroverthepine—topsinthemorningfog。Yet，Aasawasnotdark;
　　herhairwasasfairandyellowasawheat—fieldinAugust，herforeheadhighandclear，andhermouthandchinasifcutwithachisel;onlyhereyeswereperhapssomewhatdeeperthaniscommonintheNorth，andthelongeryoulookedatthemthedeepertheygrew，justlikethetarn，which，ifyoustarelongenoughintoit，youwillfindisasdeepastheheavensabove，thatis，whosedepthonlyfaithandfancycanfathom。ButhoweverlongyoulookedatAasa，youcouldneverbequitesurethatshelookedatyou;sheseemedbuttohalfnoticewhateverwentonaroundher;thelookofhereyewasalwaysmorethanhalfinward，andwhenitshonethebrightest，itmightwellhappenthatshecouldnothavetoldyouhowmanyyearsshehadlived，orthenameherfathergaveherinbaptism。
　　NowAasawaseighteenyearsold，andcouldknit，weave，andspin，anditwasfulltimethatwooersshouldcome。"Butthatistheconsequenceoflivinginsuchanout—of—the—wayplace，"saidhermother;"whowillriskhislimbstoclimbthatneck—breakingrock？andtheround—aboutwayovertheforestisrathertoolongforawooer。"Besideshandlingtheloomandthespinning—wheel，Aasahadalsolearnedtochurnandmakecheesetoperfection，andwheneverElsiegrievedatherstrangebehaviorshealwaysintheendconsoledherselfwiththereflectionthatafterallAasawouldmakethemanwhoshouldgetheranexcellenthousewife。
　　ThefarmofKvaerkwasindeedmostsingularlysituated。Aboutahundredfeetfromthehousetheroughwallofthemountainrosesteepandthreatening;andthemostremarkablepartofitwasthattherockitselfcavedinwardandformedaloftyarchoverhead，whichlookedlikeahugedoorleadingintothemountain。Someshortdistancebelow，theslopeofthefieldsendedinanabruptprecipice;farunderneathlaytheotherfarm—housesofthevalley，scatteredlikesmallredorgraydots，andtheriverwoundonwardlikeawhitesilverstripeintheshelteroftheduskyforest。Therewasapathdownalongtherock，whichagoatorabriskladmightbeinducedtoclimb，iftheprizeoftheexperimentweregreatenoughtojustifythehazard。ThecommonroadtoKvaerkmadealargecircuitaroundtheforest，andreachedthevalleyfarupatitsnorthernend。
　　ItwasdifficulttogetanythingtogrowatKvaerk。Inthespringallthevalleylaybareandgreen，beforethesnowhadbeguntothinkofmeltingupthere;andthenight—frostwouldbesuretomakeavisitthere，whilethefieldsalongtheriverlaysilentlydrinkingthesummerdew。OnsuchoccasionsthewholefamilyatKvaerkwouldhavetostayupduringallthenightandwalkbackandforthoneithersideofthewheat—fields，carryingalongropebetweenthemanddraggingitslowlyovertheheadsoftherye，topreventthefrostfromsettling;foraslongastheearscouldbekeptinmotion，theycouldnotfreeze。ButwhatdidthriveatKvaerkinspiteofbothsnowandnight—frostwaslegends，andtheythroveperhapsthebetterfortheverysterilityofitsmaterialsoil。Aasaofcoursehadheardthemallandknewthembyheart;theyhadbeenherfriendsfromchildhood，andheronlycompanions。Alltheservants，however，alsoknewthemandmanyothersbesides，andiftheywereaskedhowthemansionofKvaerkhappenedtobebuiltlikeaneagle’snestonthebrinkofaprecipice，theywouldtellyouthefollowing：
　　SaintOlaf，Norway’sholyking，inthetimeofhisyouthhadsailedasaVikingoverthewideocean，andinforeignlandshadlearnedthedoctrineofChristtheWhite。Whenhecamehometoclaimthethroneofhishereditarykingdom，hebroughtwithhimtapersandblackpriests，andcommandedthepeopletooverthrowthealtarsofOdinandThorandtobelievealoneinChristtheWhite。Ifanystilldaredtoslaughterahorsetotheoldgods，hecutofftheirears，burnedtheirfarms，anddrovethemhouselessfromthesmokingruins。HereinthevalleyoldThor，or，astheycalledhim，Asathor，hadalwayshelpedustovengeanceandvictory，andgentleFreyformanyyearshadgivenusfairandfertilesummers。ThereforethepeasantspaidlittleheedtoKingOlaf’sgod，andcontinuedtobringtheirofferingstoOdinandAsathor。Thisreachedtheking’sear，andhesummonedhisbishopandfiveblackpriests，andsetouttovisitourvalley。Havingarrivedhere，hecalledthepeasantstogether，stoodupontheTing—stone，toldthemofthegreatthingsthattheWhiteChristhaddone，andbadethemchoosebetweenhimandtheoldgods。Somewerescared，andreceivedbaptismfromtheking’spriests;othersbittheirlipsandweresilent;othersagainstoodforthandtoldSaintOlafthatOdinandAsathorhadalwaysservedthemwell，andthattheywerenotgoingtogivethemupforChristtheWhite，whomtheyhadneverseenandofwhomtheyknewnothing。
　　Thenextnighttheredcockcrew[9]overtenfarmsinthevalley，andithappenedtohetheirswhohadspokenagainstKingOlaf’sgod。ThenthepeasantsflockedtotheTing—stoneandreceivedthebaptismofChristtheWhite。Somefew，whohadmightykinsmenintheNorth，fledandspreadtheeviltidings。Onlyoneneitherflednorwasbaptized，andthatonewasLageUlfsonKvaerk，theancestorofthepresentLage。HeslewhisbeststeedbeforeAsathor’saltar，andpromisedtogivehimwhateverheshouldask，eventohisownlife，ifhewouldsavehimfromthevengeanceoftheking。Asathorheardhisprayer。Asthesunset，astormsprungupwiththickdarknessandgloom，theearthshook，Asathordrovehischariotovertheheavenswithdeafeningthunderandswunghishammerrightandleft，andthecracklinglightningflewthroughtheairlikeahail—stormoffire。Thenthepeasantstrembled，fortheyknewthatAsathorwaswroth。Onlythekingsatcalmandfearlesswithhisbishopandpriests，quaffingthenut—brownmead。Thetempestrageduntilmorn。Whenthesunrose，SaintOlafcalledhishundredswains，sprangintothesaddleandrodedowntowardtheriver。Fewmenwhosawtheangryfireinhiseye，andthefrownonhisroyalbrow，doubtedwhitherhewasbound。Buthavingreachedtheford，awondroussightmethiseye。WhereonthedaybeforethehighwayhadwounditselfuptheslopetowardLageKvaerk’smansion，laynowawildravine;therockwasshatteredintoathousandpieces，andadeepgorge，asifmadebyasinglestrokeofahugehammer，separatedthekingfromhisenemy。ThenSaintOlafmadethesignofthecross，andmumbledthenameofChristtheWhite;buthishundredswainsmadethesignofthehammerundertheircloaks，andthought，StillisAsathoralive。
　　[9]"Theredcockcrew"istheexpressionusedintheoldNorwegianFagasforincendiaryfire。
　　ThatsamenightLageUlfsonKvaerkslewablackram，andthankedAsathorforhisdeliverance;
　　andtheSagatellsthatwhilehewassprinklingthebloodonthealtar，thethunderinggodhimselfappearedtohim，andwilderhelookedthanthefiercestwildTurk。Rams，saidhe，wereevery—dayfare;theycouldredeemnopromise。Brynhild，hisdaughter，wastherewardAsathordemanded。Lageprayedandbesoughthimtoaskforsomethingelse。Hewouldgladlygivehimoneofhissons;forhehadthreesons，butonlyonedaughter。Asathorwasimmovable;butsolongLagecontinuedtobeg，thatatlastheconsentedtocomebackinayear，whenLageperchancewouldbebetterreconciledtothethoughtofBrynhild’sloss。
　　InthemeantimeKingOlafbuiltachurchtoChristtheWhiteontheheadlandattheriver，whereitstandsuntilthisday。Everyevening，whenthehugebellrumbledbetweenthemountains，theparishionersthoughttheyheardheavy，half—chokedsighsoverintherocksatKvaerk;
　　andonSundaymornings，whentheclear—voicedchimescalledthemtohigh—mass，asuppressedmoanwouldminglewiththesoundofthebells，anddieawaywiththelastecho。LageUlfsonwasnotthemantobeafraid;yetthechurch—
　　bellsmanyatimedrovethebloodfromhischeeks;
　　forhealsoheardthemoanfromthemountain。