t, and you _shall_ go with me,
Magnhild!" Then, with sudden emotion: "Have you not one word for me? Can
you not understand how fond I am of you? Have you quite forgotten,
Magnhild, how fond I have always been of you? Is it nothing to you that
I came here all the way from America after you."

She failed to notice that she had thus avowed her whole errand; she
stood and waited to see Magnhild rouse and turn. She was not standing
near enough to see that tears were now falling on the window-sill. She
only saw that Magnhild neither stirred nor betrayed the slightest
emotion. This wounded her, and, hasty as she was in her resolves when
her heart was full, she left. Magnhild saw her hurry, weeping, up the
street, without looking in.

And Roennaug did not cease weeping, not even when she had thrown herself
down over her child and was kissing it. She clasped it again and again
to her bosom, as though she wanted to make sure of her life's great
gain.

She had expected Magnhild to follow her. The clock struck eight, no
Magnhild appeared; nine--still no Magnhild. Roennaug threw a shawl over
her head and stole past the saddler's house. Skarlie must have come home
some time since. All was still within; there was no one at the windows.
Roennaug went back to the hotel and as she got ready for bed she kept
pondering on what was now to be done, and whether she should really
start on her journey without Magnhild. The last thought she promptly
dismissed. No, she would remain and call for assistance. She was ready
to risk a battle, and that with Mr. Skarlie himself, supported by the
curate, Grong, and other worthy people. She probably viewed the matter
somewhat from an American standpoint; but she was determined.

She fell asleep and dreamed that Mr. Skarlie and she were fighting. With
his large hairy hands he seized her by the head, the shoulders, the
hands; his repulsive face, with its toothless mouth, looked with a laugh
into her eyes. She could not ward him off: once more he had her by the
head; then Magnhild repeatedly called her name aloud and she awoke.
Magnhild was standing at the side of her bed.

"Roennaug! Roennaug!"

"Yes, yes!"

"It is I--Magnhild!"

Roennaug started up in bed, half intoxicated with sleep. "Yes, I
see--you--It is you? No, really you, Magnhild! Are you going with me?"

"Yes!"

And Magnhild flung herself on Roennaug's bosom and burst into tears. What
tears! They were like those of a child, who after