Hulda was considerably surprised at the persistency with which Ole
alluded in his letters to the fortune that was to be his on his
return. Upon what did the young man base his expectations? Hulda could
not imagine, and she was very anxious to know. Was this anxiety due
solely to an idle curiosity on her part? By no means, for the secret
certainly affected her deeply. Not that she was ambitious, this modest
and honest young girl; nor did she in looking forward to the future
ever aspire to what we call wealth. Ole's affection satisfied, and
would always satisfy her. If wealth came, she would welcome it with
joy. If it did not come, she would still be content.
This is precisely what Hulda and Joel said to each other the day
after Ole's last letter reached Dal. They agreed perfectly upon this
subject, as upon all others, by the way. And then Joel added:
"No; it is impossible, little sister. You certainly must be keeping
something from me."
"Keeping something from you!"
"Yes; for I can not believe that Ole went away without giving you some
clew to his secret."
"Did he say anything to you about it?"
"No; but you and I are not one and the same person."
"Yes, we are, brother."
"I am not Ole's betrothed, at all events."
"Almost," said the young girl; "and if any misfortune should befall
him, and he should not return from this voyage, you would be as
inconsolable as I would be, and your tears would flow quite as freely
as mine."
"Really, little sister. I forbid you to even speak of such a thing,"
replied Joel. "Ole not return from his last voyage to the great
fishing banks! What can have put such an idea into your head? You
surely can not mean what you say, Hulda!"
"No, certainly not. And yet, I do not know. I can not drive away
certain presentiments--the result, perhaps, of bad dreams."
"Dreams are only dreams."
"True, brother, but where do they come from?"
"From ourselves, not from heaven. You are anxious, and so your fears
haunt you in your slumber. Besides, it is almost always so when one
has earnestly desired a thing and the time when one's desires are to
be realized is approaching."
"I know it, Joel."
"Really, I thought you were much more sensible, little sister. Yes,
and more energetic. Here you have just received a letter from Joel
saying that the 'Viking' will return before the end of the month, and
it is now the 19th of April, and consequently none too soon for you to
begin your preparations for the wedding."
"Do you really think so, Joel?"
"Certainly I think so, Hulda. I even think that we have delayed too
long already. Think of it. We must have a wedding that will not only
create a sensation in Dal, but in all the neighboring villages. I
intend it shall be the grandest one ever known in the district, so I
am going to set to work immediately."
An affair of this kind is always a momentous occasion in all the
country districts of Norway, particularly in the Telemark, so that
every day Joel had a conversation with his mother on the subject. It
was only a few moments after Dame Hansen's meeting with the stranger,
whose message had so deeply agitated her, and though she had seated
herself at her spinning-wheel as usual, it would have been plain to a
close observer that her thoughts were far away.
Even Joel noticed that his mother seemed even more despondent than
usual, but as she invariably replied that there was nothing the matter
with her when she was questioned on the subject, her son decided to
speak only of Hulda's marriage.
"Mother," he began, "you, of course, recollect that Ole announced in
his last letter that he should probably return to Dal in a few weeks."
"It is certainly to be hoped that he will," replied Dame Hansen, "and
that nothing will occur to occasion any further delay."
"Do you see any objection to our fixing upon the twenty-fifth of May
as the day of the marriage?"
"None, whatever, if Hulda is willing."
"Her consent is already given. And now I think I had better ask
you, mother, if you do not intend to do the handsome thing on that
occasion?"
"What do you mean by the handsome thing?" retorted Dame Hansen,
without raising her eyes from her spinning-wheel.
"Why, I am anxious, if you approve, of course, that the wedding should
correspond with the position we hold in the neighborhood. We ought to
invite all our friends to it, and if our own house is not large enough
to accommodate them, our neighbors, I am sure, will be glad to lodge
our guests."
"Who will these guests be, Joel?"
"Why, I think we ought to invite all our friends from Moel, Tiness and
Bamble. I will attend to that. I think, too, that the presence of Help
Bros., the shipowners, would be an honor to the family, and with your
consent, I repeat, I will invite them to spend a day with us at Dal.
They are very fine men, and they think a great deal of Ole, so I am
almost sure that they will accept the invitation."
"Is it really necessary to make this marriage such an important
event?" inquired Dame Hansen, coldly.
"I think so, mother, if only for the sake of our inn, which I am sure
has maintained its old reputation since my father's death."
"Yes, Joel, yes."
"And it seems to me that it is our duty to at least keep it up to
the standard at which he left it; consequently, I think it would be
advisable to give considerable publicity to my sister's marriage."
"So be it, Joel."
"And do you not agree with me in thinking that it is quite time
for Hulda to begin her preparations, and what do you say to my
suggestion?"
"I think that you and Hulda must do whatever you think necessary,"
replied Dame Hansen.
Perhaps the reader will think that Joel was in too much of a hurry,
and that it would have been much more sensible in him to have waited
until Ole's return before appointing the wedding-day, and beginning to
prepare for it, but as he said, what was once done would not have to
be done over again; besides, the countless details connected with a
ceremonial of this kind would serve to divert Hulda's mind from these
forebodings for which there seemed to be no foundation.
The first thing to be done was to select the bride's maid of honor.
That proved an easy matter, however, for Hulda's choice was already
made. The bride-maid, of course, must be Hulda's intimate friend,
Farmer Helmboe's daughter. Her father was a prominent man, and the
possessor of a very comfortable fortune. For a long time he had
fully appreciated Joel's sterling worth, and his daughter Siegfrid's
appreciation, though of a rather different nature, was certainly no
less profound; so it was quite probable that at no very distant day
after Siegfrid had served as Hulda's maid of honor, Hulda, in turn,
would act in the same capacity for her friend. This is the custom in
Norway, where these pleasant duties are generally reserved for married
women, so it was rather on Joel's account that Siegfrid Helmboe was to
serve Hulda Hansen in this capacity.
A question of vital importance to the bride-maid as well as to the
bride, is the toilet to be worn on the day of the wedding.
Siegfrid, a pretty blonde of eighteen summers, was firmly resolved
to appear to the best possible advantage on the occasion. Warned by
a short note from her friend Hulda--Joel had kindly made himself
responsible for its safe delivery--she immediately proceeded to devote
her closest attention to this important work.
In the first place, an elaborately embroidered bodice must be made to
incase Siegfrid's charming figure as if in a coat of enamel. There
was also much talk about a skirt composed of a series of jupons which
should correspond in number with the wearer's fortune, but in no way
detract from her charms of person. As for jewelry, it was no easy
matter to select the design of the collar of silver filigree, set with
pearls, the heart-shaped ear-rings, the double buttons to fasten the
neck of the chemisette, the belt of red silk or woolen stuff from
which depend four rows of small chains, the finger-rings studded
with tiny bangles that tinkle musically, the bracelets of fretted
silver--in short, all the wealth of country finery in which gold
appears only in the shape of the thinnest plating, silver in the guise
of tin and pearls, and diamonds in the shape of wax and crystal beads.
But what does that matter so long as the _tout ensemble_ is pleasing
to the eye? Besides, if necessary, Siegfrid would not hesitate to
go to the elegant stores of M. Benett, in Christiania, to make her
purchases. Her father would not object--far from it! The kind-hearted
man allowed his daughter full liberty in such matters; besides,
Siegfrid was sensible enough not to draw too heavily upon her father's
purse, though everything else was of secondary importance provided
Joel would see her at her very best on that particular day.
As for Hulda, her anxiety on the subject was no less serious, for
fashions are pitiless, and give, besides, not a little trouble in the
selection of their wedding-toilet.
Hulda would now be obliged to abandon the long plaits tied with bright
ribbons, which had heretofore hung from under her coquettish cap, the
broad belt with fancy buckles that kept her apron in place upon
her scarlet skirt, the girdle to which were appended several small
embroidered leather cases containing a silver tea-spoon, knife, fork,
needle-case and scissors--articles which a woman makes constant use of
in the household.
No, on the fast approaching day of the nuptials, Hulda's hair would be
allowed to float down upon her shoulders, and it was so abundant
that it would not be necessary for her to have recourse to the jute
switches used by Norwegian girls less favored by nature. Indeed,
for her clothing, as well as for her ornaments, Hulda would only be
obliged to resort to her mother's big chest. In fact, these articles
of clothing are transmitted from marriage to marriage through all
the different generations of the same family. So one sees reappearing
again and again upon the scene the bodice embroidered in gold, the
velvet sash, the skirt of striped silk, the gold chain for the neck,
and the crown--the famous Scandinavian crown--carefully preserved in
the most secure of all the chests, and made of pasteboard covered
with embossed gilt paper, and studded with stars, or garlanded with
leaves--that takes the place of the wreath of orange-blossoms worn by
brides in other European countries.
In this case the crowned betrothed, as the bride is styled, would
certainly do honor to her husband; and he would be worthy of her in
his gay wedding suit: a short jacket trimmed with silver buttons,
silk-embroidered waistcoat, tight breeches fastened at the knee with a
bunch of bright ribbons, a soft felt hat, yellow top-boots, and in
his belt the Scandinavian knife--the dolknife--with which the true
Norwegian is always provided.
Consequently, there was plenty to occupy the attention of the young
ladies for some time to come. Two or three weeks would barely suffice
if they wished to have everything in readiness before Ole's return;
but even if Ole should arrive sooner than he expected, and Hulda
should not be quite ready, she would not be inconsolable, nor would
he.
The last weeks of April and the first weeks of May were devoted
to these matters. Joel assumed charge of the invitations, taking
advantage of the fact that his vocation of guide gave him considerable
leisure at this season of the year. One would have supposed that he
had a large number of friends in Bamble, for he went there very often.
He had already written to Help Bros., inviting them to attend his
sister's wedding, and in accordance with his prediction, these worthy
shipowners had promptly accepted the invitation.
The fifteenth of May came, and any day now they might expect Ole to
alight from his kariol, throw open the door, and shout in his hearty,
cheerful voice:
"It is I! Here I am!"
A little patience was all that was needed now, for everything was in
readiness, and Siegfrid needed only a word to appear before them in
all her splendor.
The 16th and 17th passed, and still no Ole, nor did the postman bring
any letter from Newfoundland.
"There is no cause for anxiety, little sister," Joel said, again and
again. "A sailing-vessel is always subject to delays. It is a long
way from St. Pierre-Miquelon to Bergen. How I wish the 'Viking' were
a steamer and I the engine. How I would drive along against wind and
tide, even if I should burst my boiler on coming into port."
He said all this because he saw very plainly that Hulda's uneasiness
was increasing from day to day.
Just at this time, too, the weather was very bad in the Telemark.
Violent gales swept the high table-lands, and these winds, which blew
from the west, came from America.
"They ought to have hastened the arrival of the 'Viking,'" the young
girl repeated again and again.
"Yes, little sister," replied Joel; "but they are so strong that they
may have hindered its progress, and compelled it to face the gale.
People can't always do as they like upon the sea."
"So you are not uneasy, Joel?"
"No, Hulda, no. It is annoying, of course, but these delays are very
common. No; I am not uneasy, for there is really not the slightest
cause for anxiety."
On the 19th a traveler arrived at the inn, and asked for a guide to
conduct him over the mountains to the Hardanger, and though Joel did
not like the idea of leaving Hulda, he could not refuse his services.
He would only be absent forty-eight hours at the longest, and he felt
confident that he should find Ole at Dal on his return, though, to
tell the truth, the kind-hearted youth was beginning to feel very
uneasy. Still, he started off early the next morning, though with a
heavy heart, we must admit.
On the following day, at precisely one o'clock, a loud rap resounded
at the door of the inn.
"It is Ole!" cried Hulda.
She ran to the door.
There, in a kariol, sat a man enveloped in a traveling-cloak, a man
whose face was unknown to her.