he strange disappearance took place; and that he had long hated and
envied his fellow-servant, however marvellously he had been prevented
from capturing or slaying him. These thoughts had no comfort in them;
but better came after a time.

He had to pass very near M. Kollsen's abode; and it crossed his mind
that it would be a great relief to open his heart to a clergyman. He
halted for a minute, in sight of the house, but presently went on,
saying to himself that he could not say all to M. Kollsen, and would
therefore say nothing. He should get a lecture against superstition,
and hear hard words of the powers he dreaded; and there would be no
consolation in this. It was said that the Bishop of Tronyem was coming
round this way soon, in his regular progress through his diocese, and
everybody bore testimony to his gentleness and mercy. It would be best
to wait for his coming. Then Hund began to calculate how soon he would
come; for aching hearts are impatient for relief; and the thought how
near midsummer was, made him look up into the sky,--that beautiful index
of the seasons in a northern climate. There were a few extremely faint
stars--a very few,--for only the brightest could now show themselves in
the sky where daylight lingered so as never quite to depart. A
pale-green hue remained where the sun had disappeared, and a deep-red
glow was even now beginning to kindle where he was soon to rise. Just
here, Hund's ear caught some tones of the soft harp music which the
winds make in their passage through a wood of pines; and there was a
fragrance in the air from a new thatch of birch-bark just laid upon a
neighbouring roof. This fragrance, that faint vibrating music, and the
soft veiled light were soothing; and when, besides, Hund pictured to
himself his mind relieved by a confession to the good bishop--perhaps
cheered by words of pardon and of promise, the tears burst from his
eyes, and the fever of his spirit was allayed.

Then up came the sun again, and the new thatch reeked in his beams, and
the birds shook off sleep, and plumed themselves, and the peak of
Sulitelma blushed with the softest rose-colour, and the silvery fish
leaped out of the water, and the blossoms in the gardens opened, though
it was only an hour after midnight. Every creature except man seemed
eager to make the most of the short summer season,--to waste none of its
bright hours, which would be gone too soon;--every creature except man;
b