atest scarcely
see a star, though there was not a fleece of cloud in the whole circle
of the heavens. While yet the sun was sparkling on the fiord, and
glittering on every farm-house window that fronted the west, all around
was as still as if the deepest darkness had settled down. The eagles
were at rest on their rocky ledge, a thousand feet above the waters.
The herons had left their stand on the several promontories of the
fiord, and the flapping of their wings overhead was no more heard. The
raven was gone home; the cattle were all far away on the mountain
pastures; the goats were hidden in the woods which yielded the tender
shoots on which they subsisted. The round eyes of a white owl stared
out upon him here and there, from under the eaves of a farm-house; and
these seemed to be the only eyes besides his own that were open. Hund
knew as he passed one dwelling after another,--knew as well as if he had
looked in at the windows,--that the inhabitants were all asleep, even
with the sunshine lying across their very faces.

Every few minutes he observed how his shadow lengthened, and he longed
for the brief twilight which would now soon be coming on. Now, his
shadow stretched quite across a narrow valley, as he took breath on a
ridge crossed by the soft breeze. Then, the shadow stood up against a
precipice, taller than the tallest pine upon the steep. Then the yellow
gleam grew fainter, the sparkles on the water went out, and he saw the
large pale circle of the sun sink and sink into the waves, where the
fiord spread out wide to the south-west. Even the weary spirit of this
unhappy man seemed now to be pervaded with some of the repose which
appeared to be shed down for the benefit of all that lived. He walked
on and on; but he felt the grass softer under his feet,--the air cooler
upon his brow; and he began to comfort himself with thinking that he had
not murdered Rolf. He said to himself that he had not laid a finger on
him, and that the skiff might have sunk exactly as it did, if he had
been sitting at home, carving a bell-collar. There could be no doubt
that the skiff had been pulled down fathoms deep by a strong hand from
below; and if the spirits were angry with Rolf, that was no concern of
Rolf's human enemies.--Thus Hund strove to comfort himself; but it would
not do. The more he tried to put away the thought, the more obstinately
it returned, that he had been speeding on his way to injure Rolf when
t