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step； and spoke many a cheery word to tho bride； who walked； silent and
with downcast eyes； at his side。 She wore the ancestral bridal crown on
her head； and the little silver disks around its edge tinkled and shook as
she walked。 They hailed her with firing of guns and loud hurrahs as she
stepped into the boat； still she did not raise her eyes； but remained silent。
A small cannon； also an heir…loom in the family； was placed amidships；
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and Truls； with his violin； took his seat in the prow。 A large solitary
cloud； gold…rimmed but with thunder in its breast； sailed across the sky
and threw its shadow over the bridal boat as it was pushed out from the
shore； and the shadow fell upon the bride's countenance too； and when she
lifted it； the mother of the bridegroom； who sat opposite her； shrank back；
for the countenance looked hard； as if carved in stonein the eyes a mute；
hopeless appeal； on the lips a frozen prayer。 The shadow of thunder upon
a life that was openingit was an ill omen； and its gloom sank into the
hearts of the wedding guests。 They spoke in undertones and threw
pitying glances at the bride。 Then at length Syvert Stein lost his patience。
〃In sooth；〃 cried he； springing up from his seat； 〃where is to…day the
cheer that is wont to abide in the Norseman's breast？ Methinks I see but
sullen airs and ill…boding glances。 Ha； fiddler； now move your strings
lustily！ None of your funeral airs； my lad； but a merry tune that shall
sing through marrow and bone； and make the heart leap in the bosom。〃
Truls heard the words； and in a slow； mechanical way he took the
violin out of its case and raised it to his chin。 Syvert in the mean while
put a huge silver beer…jug to his mouth； and； pledging his guests； emptied
it even to the dregs。 But the bride's cheek was pale； and it was so still in
the boat that every man could hear his own breathing。
〃Ha； to…day is Syvert Stein's wedding…day！〃 shouted the bridegroom；
growing hot with wrath。 〃Let us try if the iron voice of the cannon can
wake my guests from their slumber。〃
He struck a match and put it to the touch… hole of the cannon； a long
boom rolled away over the surface of the waters and startled the echoes of
the distant glaciers。 A faint hurrah sounded from the nearest craft； but
there came no response from the bridal boat。 Syvert pulled the powder…
horn from his pocket； laughed a wild laugh； and poured the whole contents
of the horn into the mouth of the cannon。
〃Now may the devil care for his own；〃 roared he； and sprang up upon
the row…bench。 Then there came a low murmuring strain as of wavelets
that ripple against a sandy shore。 Borghild lifted her eyes； and they met
those of the fiddler。
〃Ah； I think I should rather be your bridegroom；〃 whispered she； and a
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TALES FROM TWO HEMISPHERES。
ray of life stole into her stony visage。
And she saw herself as a little rosy…cheeked girl sitting at his side on
the beach fifteen years ago。 But the music gathered strength from her
glance； and onward it rushed through the noisy years of boyhood； shouting
with wanton voice in the lonely glen； lowing with the cattle on the
mountain pastures； and leaping like the trout at eventide in the brawling
rapids； but through it all there ran a warm strain of boyish loyalty and
strong devotion； and it thawed her frozen heart； for she knew that it was
all for her and for her only。 And it seemed such a beautiful thing； this
long faithful life； which through sorrow and joy； through sunshine and
gloom； for better for worse； had clung so fast to her。 The wedding guests
raised their heads； and a murmur of applause ran over the waters。
〃Bravo！〃 cried the bridegroom。 〃Now at last the tongues are loosed。〃
Truls's gaze dwelt with tender sadness on the bride。 Then came from
the strings some airy quivering chords； faintly flushed like the petals of the
rose； and fragrant like lilies of the valley； and they swelled with a strong；
awakening life； and rose with a stormy fullness until they seemed on the
point of bursting； when again they hushed themselves and sank into a low；
disconsolate whisper。 Once more the tones stretched out their arms
imploringly； and again they wrestled despairingly with themselves； fled
with a stern voice of warning； returned once more； wept； shuddered； and
were silent。
〃Beware that thou dost not play with a life！〃 sighed the bride； 〃even
though it be a worthless one。〃
The wedding guests clapped their hands and shouted wildly against the
sky。 The bride's countenance burned with a strange feverish glow。 The
fiddler arose in the prow of the boat； his eyes flamed； he struck the strings
madly； and the air trembled with melodious rapture。 The voice of that
music no living tongue can interpret。 But the bride fathomed its meaning；
her bosom labored vehemently； her lips quivered for an instant
convulsively； and she burst into tears。 A dark suspicion shot through the
bridegroom's mind。 He stared intently upon the weeping Borghild then
turned his gaze to the fiddler； who； still regarding her； stood playing； with
a half…frenzied look and motion。
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〃You cursed wretch！〃 shrieked Syvert； and made a leap over two
benches to where Truls was standing。 It came so unexpectedly that Truls
had no time to prepare for defense； so he merely stretched out the hand in
which he held the violin to ward off the blow which he saw was coming；
but Syvert tore the instrument from his grasp and dashed it against the
cannon； and； as it happened； just against the touch…hole。 With a
tremendous crash something black darted through the air and a white
smoke brooded over the bridal boat。 The bridegroom stood pale and
stunned。 At his feet lay Borghild lay for a moment still； as if lifeless；
then rose on her elbows； and a dark red current broke from her breast。
The smoke scattered。 No one saw how it was done； but a moment later
Truls； the Nameless； lay kneeling at Borghild's side。
〃It WAS a worthless life； beloved；〃 whispered he； tenderly。 〃Now it
is at an end。〃
And he lifted her up in his arms as one lifts a beloved child； pressed a
kiss on her pale lips； and leaped into the water。 Like lead they fell into
the sea。 A throng of white bubbles whirled up to the surface。 A loud
wail rose from the bridal fleet； and before the day was at an end it filled
the valley； but the wail did not recall Truls； the Nameless； or Borghild his
bride。
What life denied them； would to God that death may yield them！
ASATHOR'S VENGEANCE。
I。
IT was right up under the steel mountain wall where the farm of
Kvaerk lay。 How any man of common sense could have hit upon the
idea of building a house there； where none but the goat and the hawk had
easy access； had been； and I am afraid would ever be； a matter of wonder
to the parish people。 However； it was not Lage Kvaerk who had built the
house； so he could hardly be made responsible for its situation。
Moreover； to move from a place where one's life has once struck deep root；
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even if it be in the chinks and crevices of stones and rocks； is about the
same as to destroy it。 An old tree grows but poorly in a new soil。 So
Lage Kvaerk thought； and so he said； too； whenever his wife Elsie spoke
of her sunny home at the river。
Gloomy as Lage usually was； he had his brighter moments； and people
noticed that these were most like