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Updated: June 21, 2025
I do not wonder; nor do I blame any man or woman for this; though I wish they were as happy as the weakest infant, or the most worn-out old man, who has learned from the gentle Jesus to fear nothing at any time, because his Father is with him." "But what is to be done?" asked M. Kollsen.
M. Kollsen was glad to rise and escape from what he thought a schooling, and the bishop himself was as interested in what was going on as if the farm had been his home. He was actually the first at the ridge. This part of the mountain was a singularly favourable situation for seeing what was doing on the spot on which every one's attention was fixed this day.
Erica replied that not only had her grief been soothed, but that she was now so blessed that her heart was burdened with its gratitude. She wished, she needed to pour out all that she felt; but M. Kollsen was there, and she could not speak quite freely before him.
"When M. Kollsen has had more experience, he will find that this is not a matter for displeasure. He will not succeed while he is displeased at what his people think sacred. When he is an older man, he will pity the innocent for what they suffer from superstition; and this pity will teach him how to speak of Providence to such as our Erica. But here are my girls coming to seek me.
M. Kollsen was a very young man; but the men in Norway smoke as invariably as the women dance. "Very pretty, indeed! They only want double the number to make it as pretty a dance as any in Tronyem." "What would you have, sir?" asked old Peder, who sat smoking at his elbow. "Are there not eleven couple?
Just after midnight, they brought her word that the bishop had ordered every one but M. Kollsen away from the ridge. The schooner had peeped out from behind the promontory, and was stealing up with a soft west wind "A west wind!" exclaimed Erica. "Any fog?" "No, not a flake of mist. Neither you nor any one will say that Nipen is favourable to the enemy to-night, Erica."
Yet here he was on Sulitelma! When he and M. Kollsen and the ladies had dismounted, and were entering the house to breakfast, the gazers found leisure to observe the hindmost of the train of riders. It was Hund, with his feet tied under his horse, and the bridle held by a man on each side.
It was settled in a moment that Nipen should have his cake; which so shocked and annoyed M. Kollsen that he declared he would not remain to sanction anything so impious, and requested that his boatmen might be called from their suppers, and desired to have his boat ready immediately. No entreaties would soften him: go he would. It appeared, however, that he could not go.
By means of this glass, the bishop, M. Kollsen, or Madame Erlingsen announced, from time to time, what was doing, as the evening advanced; how parties of two or three were leaving Saltdalen, creeping towards the farm under cover of rising grounds, rocks, and pine-woods; how small companies, well-armed, were hidden in every place of concealment near Erlingsen's; and how there seemed to be a great number of women about the place.
The fire and frost they thought were alive, pleased to make sport with men." "As people who ought to know better," observed M. Kollsen, "now think the wind is alive, and call it Nipen, or the mist of the lake and river, which they call the sprite Uldra."
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