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Updated: June 5, 2025
The father walked away as though he knew nothing, and the two on the cliff were saved from discovery. "It was all right this time," said Marit, as they drew near to each other again. "Do you expect it to be worse hereafter?" "I know one who will keep a close watch on us that I do." "Your grandfather?" "Yes, indeed." "But he shall do us no harm." "Not the least." "And you promise that?"
Oyvind was master of the hill, and he owned two sleds, "Fleet-foot" and "Idler;" the latter he loaned out to larger parties, the former he managed himself, holding Marit on his lap.
They hushed the dog, but he had grown angry and would not be quiet; the grandfather stood below staring up. But matters grew still worse, for all the herd-boys' dogs heard with surprise the strange voice and came running up. When they saw that it was a large, wolf-like giant, all the stiff-haired Lapp-dogs gathered about him. Marit became so terrified that she ran away without saying farewell.
From Marit it had undoubtedly parted him forever; he regarded her as half engaged to Jon Hatlen; but he had determined to vie with him and her through the entire race of life.
Afterwards he heard that Marit was not there either. He read with a diligence which even his father was forced to say went too far. He became grave; his face, which had been so round and soft, grew thinner and sharper, his eye more stern; he rarely sang, and never played; the right time never seemed to come.
I am weaving a large piece of cloth, something like a Scotch plaid, and it is difficult. And now I will tell you that I am still at home, and that there are those who would like to have it otherwise. Now I have no more to write about for this time, and so I must bid you farewell. MARIT KNUDSDATTER. P.S. Be sure and burn this letter.
There were not so many months of their year left now. And then? Another winter here? And living on charity ah me! Merle shook her head and sighed. The time had come, too, when Louise should go to school. "Send the children over to me all three of them, if you like," wrote Aunt Marit from Bruseth. No, thanks; Merle knew what that meant. Aunt Marit wanted to keep them for good.
"Precisely yes; you should have the gard." "I should have the gard?" "Just so yes: then you could manage it." "But" "You will not?" "Why, of course, I will." "Yes, yes, yes, yes; then it is decided, as the hen said when she flew into the water." "But" Ole looks puzzled at the school-master. "Oyvind is asking, I suppose, whether he shall have Marit, to."
But then her courage forsook her, and, flinging herself on the goat, she burst into tears. "I believe you had better keep the goat," faltered Oyvind, looking away. "Make haste, now!" said her grandfather, from the hill; and Marit got up and walked, with hesitating feet, upward. "You have forgotten your garter," Oyvind shouted after her.
"You are number three," he tapped a red-haired, active little fellow who stood tugging at his jacket. "You are number five; you number eight," and so on. Here he caught sight of Marit. "You are number one of the girls," she blushed crimson over face and neck, but tried to smile.
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