"Ay, there you come," said Hund, resuming some courage, and putting on
the appearance of more than he had. "You load me with foul accusations;
and when you find yourselves all in the wrong, you alter your tone, and
put yourselves under obligation to me for what I will tell. I will
treat you better than you treat me; and I will tell you plainly why. I
repent of my feelings towards my fellow-servant, now that evil has
befallen him--"
"What? O what?" cried Erica.
"He was seen fishing on the fiord, in that poor little worn-out skiff.
I myself saw him. And when I looked next for the skiff, it was gone,--
it had disappeared."
"And where were you?"
"Never mind where I was. I was not with him, but about my own business.
And I tell you, I no more laid a finger on him or his skiff than any
one of you."
"Where was it?"
"Close by Vogel islet!"
Erica started, and, in one moment's flush of hope, told that Rolf had
said, he should be safe at any time near Vogel islet. Hund caught at
her words so eagerly as to make a favourable impression on all, who saw,
what was indeed the truth, that he would have been glad to know that
Rolf was alive. Their manner so changed towards Hund, that if Stiorna
had been there, she would have triumphed. But the more they considered
the case, the more improbable it seemed that Rolf should have escaped
drowning.
"Mother, what do you think?" whispered the gentle Orga.
"I think, my dear, that we shall never forgive ourselves for letting
Rolf go out in that old skiff."
"Then you think,--you feel quite sure,--mother, that Nipen had nothing
to do with it."
"I feel confident, my dear, that there is no such being as Nipen."
"Even after all that has happened?--after this, following upon Oddo's
prank that night?"
"Even so, Orga. We suffer by our own carelessness and folly, my love:
and it makes us neither wiser nor better to charge the consequence upon
evil spirits;--to charge our good God with permitting revengeful beings
to torment us, instead of learning from his chastisements to sin in the
same way no more."
"But, mother, if you are right, how very far wrong all these others
are!"
"It is but little, my child, that the wisest of us knows: but there is a
whole eternity before us, every one, to grow wise in. Some," and she
looked towards Oddo, "may outgrow their mistakes here; and others,"
looking at old Peder, "are travelling fast towards a place where
everybody is wiser than years or education can make us here. Your
father and I do wish, for Frolich and you, that you should rest your
reverence, your hopes and fears, on none but the good God. Do we not
know that not even a sparrow falleth to the ground without his will?"
"Poor Erica would be less miserable if she could think so," sighed Orga.
"She will die soon, if she goes on to suffer as she does. I wish the
good bishop would come: for I do not think M. Kollsen gives her any
comfort. Look now! what can she have to say to Hund?"
What Erica had to say to Hund was, "I believe some of the things you
have told. I believe that you did not lay hands on Rolf."
"Bless you! Bless you for that!" interrupted Hund, almost forgetting
how far he really was guilty in the satisfaction of hearing these words
from the lips that spoke them.
"Tell me, then," proceeded Erica, "how you believe he really perished.--
Do you fully believe he perished?"
"I believe," whispered Hund, "that the strong hand pulled him down--down
to the bottom."
"I knew it," said Erica, turning away.
"Erica,--one word," exclaimed Hund. "I must stay here--I am very
miserable, and I must stay here, and work and work till I get some
comfort. But you must tell me how you think of me--you must say that
you do not hate me."
"I do hate you," said Erica, with disgust, as her suspicions of his
wanting to fill Rolf's place were renewed. "I mistrust you, Hund, more
deeply than I can tell."
"Will no penitence change your feelings, Erica? I tell you I am as
miserable as you."
"That is false, like everything else that you say," cried Erica. "I
wish you would go,--go and seek Rolf under the waters--"
Hund shuddered at the thought, as it recalled what he had seen and heard
at the islet. Erica saw this, and sternly repeated, "Go and bring back
Rolf from the deeps; and then I will cease to hate you. Ah! I see the
despair in your face. Such despair never came from any woman's words
where there was not a bad conscience to back them."
Hund felt that this was true, and made no reply.
As Erica slowly returned into Peder's house, Oddo ran past, and was
there before her. He closed the door when she had entered, put his hand
within hers, and said, "Did Rolf really tell you that he should be safe
anywhere near Vogel islet?"
"Yes," sighed Erica,--"safe from the pirates. That was his answer when
I begged him not to go so far down the fiord: but Rolf always had an
answer when one asked him not to go into danger. You see how it
ended;--and he never would believe in _that_ danger."
"I shall never be happy again, if this is Nipen's doing," said Oddo.
"But, Erica, you went one trip with me, and I know you are brave. Will
you go another? Will you go to the islet, and see what Rolf could have
meant about being safe there?"
Erica brightened for a moment; and perhaps would have agreed to go: but
Peder came in; and Peder said he knew the islet well, and that it was
universally considered that it was now inaccessible to human foot, and
that that was the reason why the fowl flourished there as they did in no
other place. Erica must not be permitted to go so far down among the
haunts of the pirates. Instead of this, her mistress had just decided
that, as there were no present means of getting rid of Hund,--as indeed
his depressed state of spirits seemed to give him some title to be
received again,--and as Erica could not be expected to remain just now
in his presence, she should set off immediately for the mountain, and
request Erlingsen to come home. This was only hastening her departure
by two or three days. At the seater she would find less to try her
spirits than here: and when Erlingsen came he would, if he thought
proper, have Hund carried before a magistrate; and would, at least, set
such inquiries afloat through the whole region as would bring to light
anything that might chance to be known of Rolf's fate.
Erica could not deny that this was the best plan that could be pursued,
though she had no heart for going to the seater, any more than for doing
anything else. Under Peder's urgency, however, she made up her bundle
of clothes, took in her hand her lure [Note 1], with which to call home
the cattle in the evenings, bade her mistress farewell privately, and
stole away without Hund's knowledge, while Oddo was giving him meat and
drink within the house. Old Peder listened to her parting footsteps;
and her mistress watched her up the first hill, thinking to herself how
unlike this was to the usual cheerful departure to the mountain dairies.
Never, indeed, had a heavier heart burdened the footsteps of the
wayfarer, about to climb the slopes of Sulitelma.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Note 1. The Lure is a wooden trumpet, nearly five feet long, made of
two hollow pieces of birch-wood, bound together, throughout the whole
length, with slips of willow. It is used to call the cattle together on
a wide pasture; and is also carried by travelling parties, to save the
risk of any one being lost in the wilds. Its notes, which may be heard
to a great distance, are extremely harsh and discordant; having none of
the musical tone of the Alp-horn,--(the cow-horn used by the Swiss for
the same purpose,)--which sounds well at a distance.