酷兔英语

章节正文

and to flit from one feature to another, suggesting
the idea of remoteness, and a feeling of

hopeless strangeness to the world and all its
concerns.

"Do I inconvenience you, madam?" were the
first words he uttered, as Aasa in her usual

abrupt manner stayed her laughter, turned her
back on him, and hastily started for the house.

"Inconvenience?" said she, surprised, and
again slowly turned on her heel; "no, not that

I know."
"Then tell me if there are people living here

in the neighborhood, or if the light deceived
me, which I saw from the other side of the river."

"Follow me," answered Aasa, and she navely
reached him her hand; "my father's name is

Lage Ulfson Kvaerk; he lives in the large house
you see straight before you, there on the hill;

and my mother lives there too."
And hand in hand they walked together,

where a path had been made between two
adjoining rye-fields; his serious smile seemed to

grow milder and happier, the longer he lingered
at her side, and her eye caught a ray of more

human intelligence, as it rested on him.
"What do you do up here in the long winter?"

asked he, after a pause.
"We sing," answered she, as it were at ran-

dom, because the word came into her mind;
"and what do you do, where you come from?"

"I gather song."
"Have you ever heard the forest sing?"

asked she, curiously.
"That is why I came here."

And again they walked on in silence.
It was near midnight when they entered the

large hall at Kvaerk. Aasa went before, still
leading the young man by the hand. In the

twilight which filled the house, the space
between the black, smoky rafters opened a vague

vista into the region of the fabulous, and every
object in the room loomed forth from the dusk

with exaggerated form and dimensions. The
room appeared at first to be but the haunt of

the spirits of the past; no human voice, no human
footstep, was heard; and the stranger

instinctively pressed the hand he held more
tightly; for he was not sure but that he was

standing on the boundary of dream-land, and some
elfin maiden had reached him her hand to lure

him into her mountain, where he should live
with her forever. But the illusion was of brief

duration; for Aasa's thoughts had taken a
widely different course; it was but seldom she

had found herself under the necessity of making
a decision; and now it evidently devolved upon

her to find the stranger a place of rest for the
night; so instead of an elf-maid's kiss and a

silver palace, he soon found himself huddled into
a dark little alcove in the wall, where he was

told to go to sleep, while Aasa wandered over
to the empty cow-stables, and threw herself down

in the hay by the side of two sleeping milkmaids.
III.

There was not a little astonishment manifested
among the servant-maids at Kvaerk the

next morning, when the huge, gaunt figure
of a man was seen to launch forth from Aasa's

alcove, and the strangest of all was, that Aasa
herself appeared to be as much astonished as

the rest. And there they stood, all gazing at
the bewildered traveler, who indeed was no less

startled than they, and as utterly unable to
account for his own sudden apparition. After a

long pause, he summoned all his courage, fixed
his eyes intently on the group of the girls, and

with a few rapid steps advanced toward Aasa,
whom he seized by the hand and asked, "Are

you not my maiden of yester-eve?"
She met his gaze firmly, and laid her hand on

her forehead as if to clear her thoughts; as the
memory of the night flashed through her mind,

a bright smile lit up her features, and she
answered, "You are the man who gathers song.

Forgive me, I was not sure but it was all a
dream; for I dream so much."

Then one of the maids ran out to call Lage
Ulfson, who had gone to the stables to harness

the horses; and he came and greeted the unknown
man, and thanked him for last meeting,

as is the wont of Norse peasants, although they
had never seen each other until that morning.

But when the stranger had eaten two meals in
Lage's house, Lage asked him his name and his

father's occupation; for old Norwegian
hospitality forbids the host to learn the guest's

name before he has slept and eaten under his
roof. It was that same afternoon, when they

sat together smoking their pipes under the huge
old pine in the yard,--it was then Lage inquired

about the young man's name and family; and
the young man said that his name was Trond

Vigfusson, that he had graduated at the
University of Christiania, and that his father had

been a lieutenant in the army; but both he and
Trond's mother had died, when Trond was only

a few years old. Lage then told his guest
Vigfusson something about his family, but of

the legend of Asathor and Saint Olaf he spoke
not a word. And while they were sitting there

talking together, Aasa came and sat down at
Vigfusson's feet; her long golden hair flowed in

a waving stream down over her back and
shoulders, there was a fresh, healthful glow on

her cheeks, and her blue, fathomless eyes had a
strangely joyous, almost triumphant expression.

The father's gaze dwelt fondly upon her, and
the collegian was but conscious of one thought:

that she was wondrously beautiful. And still
so great was his natural timidity and awkwardness

in the presence of women, that it was only
with the greatest difficulty he could master his

first impulse to find some excuse for leaving
her. She, however, was aware of no such restraint.

"You said you came to gather song," she
said; "where do you find it? for I too should

like to find some new melody for my old
thoughts; I have searched so long."

"I find my songs on the lips of the people,"
answered he, "and I write them down as the

maidens or the old men sing them."
She did not seem quite to comprehend that.

"Do you hear maidens sing them?" asked she,
astonished. "Do you mean the troll-virgins

and the elf-maidens?"
"By troll-virgins and elf-maidens, or what the

legends call so, I understand the hidden and still
audible voices of nature, of the dark pine forests,

the legend-haunted glades, and the silent
tarns; and this was what I referred to when I

answered your question if I had ever heard the
forest sing."

"Oh, oh!" cried she, delighted, and clapped
her hands like a child; but in another moment

she as suddenly grew serious again, and sat
steadfastly gazing into his eye, as if she were

trying to look into his very soul and there to
find something kindred to her own lonely heart.

A minute ago her presence had embarrassed
him; now, strange to say, he met her eye, and

smiled happily as he met it.
"Do you mean to say that you make your

living by writing songs?" asked Lage.
"The trouble is," answered Vigfusson, "that

I make no living at all; but I have invested a
large capital, which is to yield its interest in the

future. There is a treasure of song hidden in
every nook and corner of our mountains and

forests, and in our nation's heart. I am one of
the miners who have come to dig it out before

time and oblivion shall have buried every trace
of it, and there shall not be even the will-o'-the-

wisp of a legend to hover over the spot, and
keep alive the sad fact of our loss and our

blamable negligence."
Here the young man paused; his eyes gleamed,

his pale cheeks flushed, and there was a
warmth and an enthusiasm in his words which

alarmed Lage, while on Aasa it worked like the
most potent charm of the ancient mystic runes;

she hardly comprehended more than half of the
speaker's meaning, but his fire and eloquence

were on this account none the less powerful.
"If that is your object," remarked Lage, "I

think you have hit upon the right place in
coming here. You will be able to pick up many an

odd bit of a story from the servants and others
hereabouts, and you are welcome to stay here

with us as long as you choose."
Lage could not but attribute to Vigfusson the

merit of having kept Aasa at home a whole day,
and that in the month of midsummer. And

while he sat there listening to their conversation,
while he contemplated the delight that

beamed from his daughter's countenance and, as
he thought, the really intelligent expression of

her eyes, could he conceal from himself the pa-
ternal hopes that swelled his heart? She was

all that was left him, the life or the death of his
mighty race. And here was one who was likely

to understand her, and to whom she seemed
willing to yield all the affection of her warm

but wayward heart. Thus ran Lage Ulfson's
reflections; and at night he had a little consultation

with Elsie, his wife, who, it is needless to
add, was no less sanguine than he.

"And then Aasa will make an excellent housewife,
you know," observed Elsie. "I will speak

to the girl about it to-morrow."
"No, for Heaven's sake, Elsie!" exclaimed

Lage, "don't you know your daughter better


文章标签:名著  

章节正文