Mary - Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson (bookstand for reading TXT) 📗

beautiful hair; to-day it was to hang loose. After taking it down, Nanna ran up to the big stone on the ridge, to keep a look-out on both sides. Mary meant to go into the water with nothing on, that she might enjoy her bath thoroughly.

She swam out at once to the island. From there she could herself see the inlet on both sides and the roads. No one anywhere, no danger--therefore back again!

The sea caressed and upheld her; upon the arms that clove it the sun played; the land in front lay in the repleteness of a rich aftermath; sea-birds rocked on the waves, others screamed in the air above Mary's head. "Imagine that I was afraid of being alone--!" thought she.

When she approached the shore she did not leave the water, but lay on her back and rested; then took a few strokes and rested again. The beach looked inviting; she lay down on it in the blazing sun, her head supported on a stone, her hair floating. Oh, how delicious! But something suddenly warned her to look up. She could not be troubled. Yes, she ought to look up to where Nanna was sitting. No, she would not; Nanna was on the look-out. Yet the suggestion had put an end to her enjoyment. When she rose to walk along to the bathing-house steps, she saw behind the big stone--Joergen Thiis with his gun over his shoulder! The little girl was standing on the top of the stone motionless, staring at him as if she were spell-bound.

The blood rushed through Mary's veins in hot waves of fury and loathing. Is he utterly shameless? Or has he gone out of his mind? To outward appearance she behaved as if she saw nothing; she plunged into the sea and swam to the steps, walked calmly up them, and disappeared.

But her breath was coming hard and short, and she was so hot that she forgot to dry herself, forgot to dress. Hotter and hotter she grew, until she was positively boiling with rage and desire for vengeance. The polite Joergen Thiis had dared to insult her as she had never in her life been insulted!

Her mind wrestled with the thought of this senseless, dishonourable surprisal until she became involved in a train of ideas which carried her away. She was standing again in front of the acrobat's powerful body; Alice's knowing eyes were upon her. She trembled--then screams from the child reached her ear. In her excitement she almost screamed back. What could it mean? There was no window on that side. She dared not look out at the door, for she was naked. Never had she dressed in such haste, but for this very reason everything went wrong, and time passed. She would not appear before Joergen Thiis half dressed.

Just as she was ready to open, she heard the pitapat of little Nanna's steps on the bridge from the bank. Mary tore the door open; the child came rushing in, hid her head in her mistress's dress, and cried and sobbed so that she could not utter a word.

Mary managed to soothe her, principally by promising that she should be allowed to dress her hair. Then Nanna told that before she had noticed anything, Mr. Thiis was standing behind the stone. She had been sitting singing and had not heard him. He made threatening signs to her. Oh, how frightened she had been--for he looked so dreadful! oh, so dreadful! The moment Mary went into the house, he had rushed straight towards it.

"Joergen Thiis?"

"Then I screamed as loud as I could scream! _That_ stopped him. He turned and was coming back to me, but I jumped off the stone and ran into the wood----" Here words failed her; she hid her face in Mary's skirts again and sobbed.

This was worse than ever! Mary at first felt totally unable to comprehend.

Then it gradually dawned upon her that Joergen must be another man than she took him for--that he had violent passions--that he had the daring to act with utter recklessness. What if he had come...?

Conscious of her pride and strength, she knew that it would have meant banishment for ever--impossibly anything else.

On the way home she had to send Nanna on in front, because she herself felt hardly able to set one foot before the other, so overpowering were her thoughts.

How could a man control himself in daily intercourse when he was possessed by such passionate desire? It must have been accumulating for ages, or he would never have succumbed to this assault upon himself, or made this assault upon her.

Had he been burning with desire all these years? His homage, his respect, his unwearying attention--was it all smoke from the subterranean crater, which had now suddenly ejected red-hot stones and ashes?

So Joergen Thiis was dangerous? He did not lose by this in Mary's estimation; he gained! It was praiseworthy, the compulsion which he had exercised over himself--from reverence for her. Ought she to be so angry with him because temptation had set loose the rebellious powers which he had chained?

All the rest of the day, and even when she was undressing, her mind was busy with these thoughts. Next morning she determined that a stop must be put to this. It was a stirring of something which she had suppressed once before, and which must not be allowed to disturb the new order of her life. Therefore she applied herself more diligently than ever to her tasks, and added to their number. She undertook a thorough examination of her father's books and loose memoranda--of the latter there were far too many--in order to find out the general state of his affairs. He must have Norwegian investments, and he could not possibly have spent all the money that had been sent from America. She was, however, unable to find what she was looking for. She could not trouble her father, and Mrs. Dawes knew nothing.

But, close as Mary's application to business was, thoughts of yesterday managed to insinuate themselves. Joergen's intention had, of course, been to bathe, and to come up and call afterwards. After what had happened he could not do so. Would he ever come again? Would he do so without being invited? He had effectually damaged his own cause. She heard shots in the woods near at hand on the following days; and other people mentioned having heard shooting farther off. But he did not come on the second day, nor yet on the third, nor on the fourth. Of this she approved.

Her thoughts running much on the woods and the heights, her steps also took that direction one day before dinner. The sudden change of weather which is usual in Norway in the second half of August had taken place. It was cold now; she felt the climb with the north wind playing round her very refreshing. She chose the ascent a little below the houses; it was the easiest. She went up quickly, for she was accustomed to the climb and was longing to be at the top, standing in the wind and looking out over the stormy sea. Even from the first knoll she had an enjoyable view of the meadows, where the farm-servants were spreading out the second crop of hay to dry, of the bay, of the islands, of the sea, black to-day, and bearing on its breast numbers of sailing vessels and one or two steamers. Overhead the crows were making a terrible clamour; a trial was unmistakably going on. She saw one after the other cleave the air and disappear farther along the ridge, towards the north. The noise became louder the higher she climbed. She hurried; it might be possible to save the criminal. A cold shiver of agitation ran through her. She thought that when she reached the next height she would be certain to see the birds. Instead she saw, as soon as her head cleared the ridge, a man lying flat on the ground some distance off to the north, directly above the house.

It was Joergen Thiis! Mary promptly lowered her head again; then the joy of revenge took possession of her, and she mounted quickly, determinedly. Joergen saw her, jumped up, looking agitated and ashamed, pulled off his cap, put it on again, seemed not to know where to look or to turn. Mary approached slowly, thoroughly enjoying his embarrassment. While still some distance off she called: "So this is your idea of sport! Are you shooting our hens to-day?" Then, as she came nearer: "You have no dog with you? No, of course not; you can shoot hens without a dog. Or perhaps you have none?"

"Yes; but I am not shooting to-day. I have finished."

This quiet, inoffensive answer, which he gave without daring to look at her, produced a revulsion of feeling in Mary. No, she would not be unkind to him! She had heard enough of his uncle's tyranny.

The crows were clamouring louder than ever.

"Listen! They are condemning some poor wretch! I wonder you don't go and help him."

"Indeed I ought to!" cried Joergen, happy to escape. He picked up his gun and ran, she following, up a short ascent and then along a path on the level. Upon and around two old trees the grey administrators of justice were raving; there were hundreds of them. But the moment they saw a man with a gun, they scattered, cawing, in every direction. Their task was accomplished.

Between two large trees lay an unusually large crow, featherless and bleeding, in its death struggle. Joergen was going to take hold of it.

"No, don't touch it!" called Mary, and turned away.

She went straight down again as she had come. Hearing Joergen follow, she stopped.

"You will come with me, won't you, and dine?"

He thanked her. They walked on together silently until they came to where he had been lying. Then he hastily asked:

"How are things going at home?"

She smiled. "Thank you, really well, considering everything."

The smoke from the chimney curled into the air. The roofs with their glazed blue tiles looked affluently comfortable. The large gardens on both sides with their gravel walks lay like striped wings outstretched from the houses. The whole had an air of life, as if it might rise into the air at any moment.

"Had you been lying long here?" Mary asked unmercifully; she regarded Joergen's mood as a species of possession.

He did not answer. She set off on the last, very steep part of the descent.

"Shall I help you?"

"No, thank you; I have come down here oftener than you."

It was a silent repast. Joergen always ate slowly, but never had he eaten so slowly as to-day. Mary despatched each course quickly, and then sat and watched him, making an occasional remark, which was politely answered. His eyes, which generally swept over her like waves, ready to draw her in, had difficulty to-day in rising higher than the plate before them. Stopping suddenly, he said: "Are you not well?"

"Yes, thank you; but I have had enough."

A quarter of an hour later Joergen came out of Anders Krog's room. Mary had just left Mrs. Dawes's, and was opening the door of her own. Joergen said:

"It seems to me that your father is much better, Miss Krog."

"Yes, he can speak a little now, and also move his arm a little."

Joergen evidently did not hear.

"Is this your room?--I have never seen it."

She moved out of the