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Jofrid would have liked to have talked about Tönne, but most of them never spoke of their husbands. Late one evening Jofrid and Tönne came home from the festivities. They went straight to bed. But hardly had they fallen asleep before they were waked by a feeble crying. "It is the child," they thought, still half asleep, and were angry at being disturbed.
"It is of no avail." "You see," she said, and laughed again. "We must try something else," Tönne went on with persistent determination. "We must confess." "What do you want to tell God, that He does not know?" mocked Jofrid. "Does He not guide your thoughts, Tönne? What will you tell Him?" She thought that Tönne was stupid and obstinate.
Jofrid wept a great deal during those days, especially when she heard the women tell how they had to wake and toil for their little children. She noticed, too, that the women at the funeral were continually talking of their children. Some rejoiced so in them that they never could stop telling of their questions and games.
The leader drew them through the open door out cm to the moonlit heath. They stormed by Jofrid, panting and wild, stumbling against stones, falling into the heather, making wide rings round the house, circling about the heaps of stones. The last of the line called to Jofrid and stretched out his hand to her. She seized it and ran too.
But when Tönne came home and saw the housc adorned with starry weavings, he found courage to send a friend to Jofrid's father. The latter asked Jofrid what she thought about it and she gave her consent. She was well pleased with the way it had turned out, even if she had been half forced to give her hand. She could not say no to the man, to whose house she had already carried her dower.
During all this Jofrid felt more and more clearly that she wished to keep her freedom, that she would rather die than lose it. She saw that she could not follow Tönne. She thought of running away, of hurrying into the wood and never coming back. They had circled about all the cairns except that of King Atle.
They also love to see their children's quick growth; but Jofrid had pleasure enough in watching Tönne develop sense and manliness, in adorning and taking care of her house, in the increase of their flocks, and in the crops which they were raising below on the moor. Jofrid went to the peasant's farm and told him that the child was dead.
The door was thrown open, and all at once Jofrid saw that night had come and that the moon had risen. Then she went to the door and looked out into the white world of the moonlight. A heavy dew had fallen. The whole heath was white, as the moon was reflected in all the little drops, which had collected on every twig.
She had found him so in the beginning of their acquaintance, but since then she had not thought of it, but had loved him for his good heart. "We will confess to the father, Jofrid, and offer him compensation." "What will you offer him?" she asked. "The house and the goats." "He will certainly demand an enormous compensation for his only son. All that we possess would not be enough."
Jofrid seemed to have made a whole man of him. Almost always he let her rule, but he also understood how to carry out his own will with tenacious obstinacy. Jests and merriment followed Jofrid wherever she went. Her clothes became more vivid the older she grew. Her whole face was bright red. But in Tönne's eyes she was beautiful. They were not so poor as many others of their class.
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