one had remembered how strange and
suspicious it would appear to the pirates, who supposed the bishop to be
at the farm, that there should be no women in the company assembled to
meet him. No doubt, these people in blue, white, and green petticoats,
who were striding about the yards, and looking forth from the galleries,
were men dressed in their wives' clothes, or in such as Erlingsen
furnished from the family chests. This disguise was as good as an
ambush, while it also served to give the place the festive appearance
looked for by the enemy. It was found afterwards that Oddo had acted as
lady's maid, fitting the gowns to the shortest men, and dressing up
their heads, so as best to hide the shaggy hair. Great numbers were
certainly assembled before night; yet still a group might be seen now
and then, winding down from some recess of the wide-spreading mountain,
making circuits by the ravines and water-courses, so as to avoid
crossing the upland slopes, which the pirates might be surveying by
means of such a glass as the bishop's.

The bishop was of opinion that scarcely a blow would be struck,--so
great was the country force, compared with that of the pirates. He
believed that the enemy would be overpowered and disarmed, almost
without a struggle. Erica, who could not but tremble, with fear as well
as expectation, blessed his words in her heart: and so, in truth, did
every woman present.

No one thought of going to rest, though Madame Erlingsen urged it upon
those over whom she had influence. Finding that Erica had sat up to
watch the cattle the night before, she compelled her to go and lie down:
but no compulsion could make her sleep; and Orga and Frolich did the
best they could for her, by running to her with news of any fresh
appearance below. Just after midnight, they brought her word that the
bishop had ordered every one but M. Kollsen away from the ridge. The
schooner had peeped out from behind the promontory, and was stealing up
with a soft west wind--

"A west wind!" exclaimed Erica. "Any fog?"

"No, not a flake of mist. Neither you nor any one will say that Nipen
is favourable to the enemy to-night, Erica."

"You will hear me say less of Nipen, henceforward," said Erica.

"That is wise for to-night, at least. Here is the west wind; but only
to waft the enemy into our hands. But have you really left off
believing in Nipen, and the whole race of sprites?"

These words jarred on Erica's yet