The midnight came, but she stirred not.
With the hour of midnight the music ceased.
From the windows of hall and kitchen the light
streamed out into the damp air, and the darkness
stood like a wall on either side; within,
maids and lads were busy brewing, baking, and
washing, for in a week there was to be a
wedding on the farm.
The week went and the wedding came.
Truls had not closed his eyes all that night,
and before daybreak he sauntered down along
the beach and gazed out upon the calm fjord,
where the white-winged sea-birds whirled in
great airy surges around the bare crags. Far
up above the noisy throng an ospray sailed on
the blue expanse of the sky, and quick as
thought swooped down upon a halibut which
had ventured to take a peep at the rising sun.
The huge fish struggled for a moment at the
water's edge, then, with a powerful stroke of
its tail, which sent the spray hissing through
the air, dived below the surface. The bird of
prey gave a loud scream, flapped fiercely with
its broad wings, and for several minutes a
thickening cloud of applauding ducks and seagulls
and showers of spray hid the combat from
the observer's eye. When the birds scattered,
the ospray had vanished, and the waters again
glittered calmly in the morning sun. Truls
stood long, vacantly staring out upon the scene
of the conflict, and many strange thoughts
whirled through his head.
"Halloo, fiddler!" cried a couple of lads who
had come to clear the wedding boats, "you are
early on foot to-day.
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