On
the strand where they played the billows came
and went, and they murmured faintly with a
sound of infinite remoteness. Borghild laughed
aloud, clapped her hands and threw stones out
into the water, while he sat pale and silent, and
saw the great white-winged sea-birds sailing
through the blue ocean of the sky.
"How would you like to live down there in
the deep green water?" she asked him one day,
as they sat watching the eider-ducks which
swam and dived, and stood on their heads
among the sea-weeds.
"I should like it very well," he answered, "if
you would follow me."
"No, I won't follow you," she cried. "It is
cold and wet down in the water. And I should
spoil the ribbons on my new bodice. But
when I grow up and get big and can braid my
hair, then I shall row with the young lads to the
church yonder on the headland, and there the
old pastor will marry me, and I shall wear the
big silver crown which my mother wore when
she was married."
"And may I go with you?" asked he, timidly.
"Yes, you may steer my boat and be my
helmsman, or--you may be my bridegroom, if
you would like that better."
"Yes, I think I should rather be your
bridegroom," and he gave her a long, strange look
which almost frightened her.
The years slipped by, and before Borghild
knew it, she had grown into womanhood. The
down on Truls's cheeks became rougher, and he,
too, began to suspect that he was no longer a
boy. When the sun was late and the breeze
murmured in the great, dark-crowned pines,
they often met by chance, at the well, on the
strand, or on the saeter-green.
Pages:
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179