A league below me is the sea. It is raining, and I am up in the hills.
An overhanging rock shelters me from the rain. I smoke my pipe, smoke
one pipe after another; and every time I light it, the tobacco curls up
like little worms crawling from the ash. So also with the thoughts that
twirl in my head. Before me, on the ground, lies a bundle of dry twigs,
from the ruin of a bird's nest. And as with that nest, so also with my
soul.
I remember every trifle of that day and the next. Hoho! I was hard put
to it then! ...
I sit here up in the hills and the sea and the air are voiceful, a
seething and moaning of the wind and weather, cruel to listen to.
Fishing boats and small craft show far out with reefed sails, human
beings on board--making for somewhere, no doubt, and Heaven knows where
all those lives are making for, think I. The sea flings itself up in
foam, and rolls and rolls, as if inhabited by great fierce figures that
fling their limbs about and roar at one another; nay, a festival of ten
thousand piping devils that duck their heads down between their
shoulders and circle about, lashing the sea white with the tips of their
wings. Far, far out lies a hidden reef, and from that hidden reef rises
a white merman, shaking his head after a leaky sailboat making out to
sea before the wind. Hoho! out to sea, out to the desolate sea...
I am glad to be alone, that none may see my eyes. I lean securely
against the wall of rock, knowing that no one can observe me from
behind. A bird swoops over the crest with a broken cry; at the same
moment a boulder close by breaks loose and rolls down towards the sea.
And I sit there still for a while, I sink into restfulness; a warm sense
of comfort quivers in me because I can sit so pleasantly under shelter
while the rain pours down outside. I button up my jacket, thanking God
for the warmth of it. A little while more. And I fall asleep.
It was afternoon. I went home; it was still raining. Then--an unexpected
encounter. Edwarda stood there before me on the path. She was wet
through, as if she had been out in the rain a long time, but she smiled.
Ho! I thought to myself, and my anger rose; I gripped my gun and walked
fiercely although she herself was smiling.
“_Goddag!_” she called, speaking first.