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Updated: May 1, 2025
On being asked if he was to have an answer, the reply was No; and the boy took his way home over the cliff, for some one was coming after him up on the road, he said. Oyvind opened the note with some difficulty, for it was folded in a strip, then tied in a knot, then sealed and stamped; and the note ran thus: "He is now on the march; but he moves slowly. Run into the woods and hide yourself!
She arrived at last, following a path by the side of the brook, the dog a little in advance of her, snuffing the air, she catching hold of the low shrubs, and walking with more and more weary gait. Oyvind sprang downward; the dog growled and was hushed; but as soon as Marit saw Oyvind coming she sat down on a large stone, as red as blood, tired and overcome by the heat.
"Yes, I should," whispered Oyvind, and his lips quivered. "You still love me, Oyvind?" "Yes;" here he looked up for the first time. "Then I will tell you that it was I who had you put down; for I am very fond of you, Oyvind." The other looked at him, blinked several times, and the tears rolled down in rapid succession. "You are not displeased with me for that?"
The assignment of places was over, the priest had come, the bells were ringing, and the people pouring into church. Then Oyvind saw Marit Heidegards just in front of him; she saw him too; but they were both so awed by the sacredness of the place that they dared not greet each other. He only noticed that she was dazzlingly beautiful and that her hair was uncovered; more he did not see.
As soon as afternoon had come, and the first boy on skees drew in sight along the road-side, swinging his guide-pole above his head and shouting so that echoes resounded through the mountain-ridges about the lake; and then another on the road on a sled, and still another and another, off started Oyvind with "Fleet-foot," bounded down the hill, and stopped among the last-comers, with a long, ringing shout that pealed from ridge to ridge all along the bay, and died away in the far distance.
Come at once and go in with me." The next morning, when Oyvind opened his eyes, it was from a long, refreshing sleep and happy dreams. Marit had been lying on the cliff, throwing leaves down on him; he had caught them and tossed them back again, so they had gone up and down in a thousand colors and forms; the sun was shining, and the whole cliff glittered beneath its rays.
"O dear, O dear! he is as fair as ever," she added. The school-master drew in the boat. The father laid down his oars, Oyvind sprang past him and out of the boat, shook hands first with his mother, then with the school-master.
"Why, it is not so very high." "Grandfather will not let me, nevertheless." "Mother knows a great many songs," said Oyvind. "Grandfather does, too, I can tell you." "Yes, but he does not know mother's songs." "Grandfather knows one about a dance. Do you want to hear it?" "Yes, very much." "Well, then, come nearer this way, that the school-master may not see us."
"What a nice little boy!" said he, stroking the child's hair. Oyvind looked up into his eyes and laughed. "Are you laughing at me!" The old man knit his brow, as he spoke. "Yes, I am," replied Oyvind, with a merry peal of laughter. Then the school-master laughed, too; the mother laughed; the children knew now that they had permission to laugh, and so they all laughed together.
"Do not look fit?" cried his comrade; but before he could say more, Oyvind inquired, "Who is that in the blue broadcloth suit, dancing with Marit?" "That is Jon Hatlen, he who has been away so long at an agricultural school and is now to take the gard." At that moment Marit and Jon sat down. "Who is that boy with light hair sitting yonder by the fiddler, staring at me?" asked Jon.
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