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Updated: June 5, 2025
The dancing ceased. Oyvind saw Marit on the bench in front of him, and Jon by her side with his face close up to hers; again there came that great burning pain in his breast, and he seemed to be saying to himself: "It is true, I am suffering." Just then Marit rose, and she came straight to him. She stooped over him.
"I shall sit here," said Oeyvind quickly, seating himself at her side, and then she laughed and he laughed too. "Is it always like this here?" he whispered to Marit. "Yes, just like this; I have a goat now," she said. "Have you?" "Yes; but it is not so pretty as yours." "Why don't you come oftener up on the cliff?" said he. "Grandpapa is afraid I shall fall over." "But it is not so very high."
To-day I have taken up my pen for many reasons, and first and above all for the sake of Marit, who has become a God-fearing maiden, but who is as light of foot as a reindeer, and of rather a fickle disposition.
"Nor do I understand myself; it is very stupid of me. Good-by, Marit; I will go now." He made a step forward without looking round. Then she called after him. "You make a mistake about what you saw." He stopped. "That you have already become a maiden is no mistake."
Marit was a full-grown girl, easy and frank in her whole address, and the boys as well as the girls knew that Jon Hatlen, the best match in the parish, was courting her, well might she be happy as she sat there.
"Yes, I promise it, Oyvind." "How beautiful you are, Marit!" "So the fox said to the raven and got the cheese." "I mean to have the cheese, too, I can assure you." "You shall not have it." "But I will take it." She turned her head, but he did not take it. "I can tell you one thing, Oyvind, though." She looked up sideways as she spoke. "Well?" "How homely you have grown!"
"And when shall we meet again?" whispered she. "To-morrow, to-morrow!" he whispered in return. "Yes; to-morrow." "Good-by," and she ran on. "Marit!" She stopped. "Say, was it not strange that we met first on the cliff?" "Yes, it was." She ran on again. Oyvind gazed long after her. The dog ran on before her, barking; Marit followed, quieting him.
The two remained behind, neither looking at each other, nor stirring. Finally Marit whispered: "I have been keeping some Christmas goodies in my pocket for you, Oyvind, the whole evening, but I have had no chance to give them to you before." She drew forth some apples, a slice of a cake from town, and a little half pint bottle, which she thrust into his hand, and said he might keep.
He longed to dance with her himself, and so he sat through one dance, in order to be able to hasten to her side the moment it was ended; and he did so, but a tall, swarthy fellow, with thick hair, threw himself in his way. "Back, youngster!" he shouted, and gave Oyvind a push that nearly made him fall backwards over Marit.
Marit had already risen to go when she saw this, and paused; suddenly she grew as red as fire, turned and went back to her place, but having arrived there she turned again and took another seat. Jon followed her forthwith.
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