"
He understood her not, but fearing to ask, he
remained silent.
His words and his eyes always drew her nearer
and nearer to him; and the forest and its
strange voices seemed a dark, opposing influence,
which strove to take possession of her
heart and to wrest her away from him forever;
she helplessly clung to him; every thought and
emotion of her soul clustered about him, and every
hope of life and happiness was staked on him.
One evening Vigfusson and old Lage Ulfson
had been walking about the fields to look at the
crop, both smoking their evening pipes. But
as they came down toward the brink whence
the path leads between the two adjoining rye-
fields, they heard a sweet, sad voice crooning
some old ditty down between the birch-trees at
the precipice; they stopped to listen, and soon
recognized Aasa's yellow hair over the tops
the rye; the shadow as of a painful emotion
flitted over the father's countenance, and he
turned his back on his guest and started to go;
then again paused, and said, imploringly, "Try
to get her home if you can, friend Vigfusson.'
Vigfusson nodded, and Lage went; the song
had ceased for a moment, now it began again:
"Ye twittering birdlings, in forest and glen
I have heard you so gladly before;
But a bold knight hath come to woo me,
I dare listen to you no more.
For it is so dark, so dark in the forest.
"And the knight who hath come a-wooing to me,
He calls me his love and his own;
Why then should I stray through the darksome woods,
Or dream in the glades alone?
For it is so dark, so dark in the forest.
Pages:
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212