ife over again in them. It is
his greatest pride to be able to trace his blood back into the days of
Sverre and St. Olaf, and with the same confidence he expects to see his
race spread into the future in the same soil where once it has struck
root. Then comes the storm from the Western seas, wrestles with the
sturdy trunk, and breaks it; and the shattered branches fly to all the
four corners of the heavens. No wonder, then, like a tree that has lost
its crown, his strength is broken and he expects but to smoulder into
the earth and die.

Bjarne Blakstad, like the sturdy old patriot that he was, had always
fiercely denounced the America rage; and it was now the hope of his
daughters that, perhaps, he had stayed behind to remind the restless
ones among the youth of their duty toward their land, or to frighten
some bold emigration agent who might have been too loud in his
declamations. But it was already eight o'clock and Bjarne was not yet to
be seen. The night was dark and stormy; a cold sleet fiercely lashed the
window-panes, and the wind roared in the chimney. Grimhild, the younger
sister, ran restlessly out and in and slammed the doors after her. Brita
sat tightly pressed up against the wall in the darkest corner of the
room. Every time the wind shook the house she started up; then again
seated herself and shuddered. Dark forebodings filled her soul.

At last,--the clock had just struck ten,--there was a noise heard in
the outer hall. Grimhild sprang to the door and tore it open. A tall,
stooping figure entered, and by the dress she at once recognized her
father.

"Good God," cried she, and ran up to him.

"Go away, child," muttered he, in a voice that sounded strangely
unfamiliar, and he pushed her roughly away. For a moment he stood still,
then stalked up to the table, and, with a heavy thump, dropped down into
a chair. There he remained with his elbows resting on his knees, and
absently staring on the floor. His long hair hung in wet tangles down
over his face, and the wrinkles about his mouth seemed deeper and
fiercer than usual. Now and then he sighed, or gave vent to a deep
groan. In a while his eyes began to wander uneasily about the room; and
as they reached the corner where Brita was sitting, he suddenly darted
up, as if stung by something poisonous, seized a brand from the hearth,
and rushed toward her.

"Tell me I did not see it," he broke forth, in a hoarse whisper, seizing
her by the arm and thrusti