Part 5 (1/2)

”Oh, ho! carried off Rolf! So here is the secret of your wonderful courage to-night, you who durst not look round at your own shadow last night! This is the secret of your not being tired, you who are out of breath with rowing a mile sometimes!”

”That is in summer,” pleaded Erica. ”However, you have my secret, as you say, a thing which is no secret at home. We all think that Hund bears such a grudge against Rolf, for having got the houseman's place----”

”And for nothing else?”

”That,” continued Erica, ”he would be glad to--to----”

”To get rid of Rolf, and be a houseman, and get betrothed instead of him. Well; Hund is baulked for this time. Rolf must look to himself after to-day.”

Erica sighed deeply. She did not believe that Rolf would attend to his own safety; and the future looked very dark, all shrouded by her fears.

By the time the skiff was deposited where it had been found, both the rowers were so weary that they gave up the idea of taking the raft in tow, as for full security they ought to do. They doubted whether they could get home, if they had more weight to draw than their own boat.

It was well that they left this enc.u.mbrance behind, for there was quite peril and difficulty enough without it; and Erica's strength and spirits failed the more the farther the enemy was left behind.

A breath of wind seemed to bring a sudden darkening of the friendly lights which had blazed up higher and brighter, from their first appearance till now. Both rowers looked down the fiord, and uttered an exclamation at the same moment.

”See the fog!” cried Oddo, putting fresh strength into his oar.

”O Nippen! Nipen!” mournfully exclaimed Erica. ”Here it is, Oddo, the west wind!”

The west wind is, in winter, the great foe of the fishermen of the fiords; it brings in the fog from the sea, and the fogs of the Arctic Circle are no trifling enemy. If Nipen really had the charge of the winds, he could not more emphatically show his displeasure towards any unhappy boatman than by overtaking him with the west wind and fog.

”The wind must have just changed,” said Oddo, pulling exhausting strokes, as the fog marched towards them over the water, like a solid and immeasurably lofty wall. ”The wind must have gone right round in a minute.”

”To be sure, since you said what you did of Nipen,” replied Erica bitterly.

Oddo made no answer; but he did what he could. Erica had to tell him not to wear himself out too quickly, as there was no saying now how long they should be on the water.

How long they had been on the water, how far they had deviated from their right course, they could not at all tell, when, at last more by accident than skill, they touched the sh.o.r.e near home, and heard friendly voices, and saw the light of torches-through the thick air.

The fog had wrapped them round so that they could not even see the water, or each other. They had rowed mechanically, sometimes touching the rock, sometimes grazing upon the sand, but never knowing where they were till the ringing of a bell, which they recognised as the farm bell, roused hope in their hearts, and strengthened them to throw off the fatal drowsiness caused by cold and fatigue. They made towards the bell; and then heard Peder's shouts, and next saw the dull light of two torches which looked as if they could not burn in the fog. The old man lent a strong hand to pull up the boat upon the beach, and to lift out the benumbed rowers; and they were presently revived by having their limbs chafed, and by a strong dose of the universal medicine--corn-brandy and camphor--which, in Norway, neither man nor woman, young nor old, sick nor well, thinks of refusing upon occasion.

When Erica was in bed, warm beneath an eider-down coverlid, her mistress bent over her and whispered--

”You saw and heard Hund himself?”

”Hund himself, madame.”

”What shall we do if he comes back before my husband is home from the bear-hunt?”

”If he comes, it will be in fear and penitence, thinking that all the powers are against him. But oh, madame, let him never know how it really was!”

”Leave that to me, and go to sleep now, Erica. You ought to rest well; for there is no saying what you and Oddo have saved us from. I could not have asked such a service. My husband and I must see how we can reward it.” And her kind and grateful mistress kissed Erica's cheek, though Erica tried to explain that she was thinking most of some one else, when she undertook this expedition.

Great was Stiorna's consternation at Hund's non-appearance the next day, seeing us she did with her own eyes that the boat was safe in its proper place. She saw that no one wished him back. He was rarely spoken of, and then it was with dislike or fear; and when she wept over the idea of his being drowned, or carried off by hostile spirits, the only comfort offered her was that she need not fear his being dead, or that he could not come back if he chose. She was indeed obliged to suppose, at last, that it was his choice to keep away; for amidst the flying rumours that amused the inhabitants of the district for the rest of the winter--rumours of the movements of the pirate vessel, and of the pranks of the spirits of the region--there were some such clear notices of the appearance of Hund, so many eyes had seen him in one place or another, by land and water, by day and night, that Stiorna could not doubt of his being alive, and free to come home or stay away as he pleased. She could not conceal from herself that he had probably joined the pirates.

Erlingsen and Rolf came home sooner than might reasonably have been expected, and well laden with bears' flesh. The whole family of bears had been found and shot.

[Ill.u.s.tration: He sometimes hammered at his skiff.]