attle," said Frolich.

"I am, dear. This is Midsummer Eve, you know,--when, as we think, all
the spirits love to be abroad."

"You will die before your time, Erica," said the weary girl. "These
spirits give you no rest of body or mind. What a day's work we have
done! And now you are going to watch till twelve, one, two o'clock! I
could not keep awake," she said, yawning, "if there was one demon at the
head of the bed, and another at the foot, and the underground people
running like mice all over the floor."

"Then go and sleep, dear; I will fetch your comb, if you will just keep
an eye on the cattle for the moment I am gone."

As Erica combed Frolich's long fair hair, and admired its shine in the
sunlight, and twisted it up behind, and curled it on each side, the
weary girl leaned her head against her, and dropped asleep. When all
was done, she just opened her eyes to find her way to bed, and say, "You
may as well go to bed comfortably, for you will certainly drop asleep
here, if you don't there."

"Not with my pretty Spiel in sight. I would not lose my white heifer
for seven nights' sleep. You will thank me when you find your cow, and
all the rest, safe in the morning. Good night, dear."

And Erica closed the door after her young mistress, and sat down on the
bench outside, with her face towards the sun, her lure by her side, and
her knitting in her hands. She was glad that the herd lay so that by
keeping her eye on them she could watch that wonder of Midsummer night
within the Arctic Circle, the dipping of the sun below the horizon, to
appear again immediately. She had never been far enough to the north to
see the sun complete its circle without disappearing at all, but she did
not wish it; she thought the softening of the light which she was about
to witness, and the speedy renewing of day, more wonderful and
beautiful. She sat soothed by her employment and by the tranquillity of
the scene, and free from fear. She had done her duty by the spirits of
the mountain and the wood; and in case of the appearance of any object
that she did not like, she could slip into the house in an instant. Her
thoughts were therefore wholly Rolf's. She could endure now to
contemplate a long life spent in doing honour to his memory by the
industrious discharge of duty. She would watch over Peder, and receive
his last breath,--an office which should have been Rolf's. She would
see another houseman arrive, and take po