Kari. Yes, in this I am innocent.

Halla. God be praised! (Puts her hand on her heart.) If it had been otherwise, I don't see how I could have borne it. Kari. I shall remember the bailiff for this.

Halla (in an outburst of joy). Let him do his worst! What care we! I am so happy now that I know you are innocent, I could kiss you for joy. (Exultantly.) Kari, will you be my husband?

(It is growing dark.)

Kari (terrified). No, Halla, I cannot.

Halla (stares at him, speechless. Suddenly she goes close to him and scans his face). Have you a wife?

Kari. No.

Halla. I could not believe that your eyes lied this evening. (Stamps her foot with anger and shame.) Take yourself away from here! Go! (Covers her face with her hands; rocks to and fro.)

Kari. My eyes did not lie to-night. (Stands for a moment in terrible emotion; then begins to walk up and down.) I knew a man named Eyvind. His father was poor and had many children. Eyvind was the next to the oldest. It was said in those parts that thieving ran in the blood of his kin, though no one could say anything against Eyvind's father. (Halla looks up, listening.) Two years ago or more, toward the end of the winter, it happened, as often before, that there was no food in the house. Eyvind went to the parson to ask him to help them out with food. He offered to pay for it with his work in the spring, but the parson refused. It was late in the evening, dark and snowing. The road to Eyvind's home went past the parson's sheep-cots. (As Kari proceeds, he now and then passes his hand over his forehead.) They loomed before him like a big black mound. Then the temp

tation came over him. The herdsman had gone home, the snow would cover up the tracks, and the parson was rich enough. I hated him! (Halla rises.) Late that night, Eyvind came home with a fine big sheep. The next day, word came from the parson. They had found his mittens in the sheepcot. Eyvind was locked up and given ten years in prison. They thought they could prove that he had more thefts to answer for (He breaks off suddenly.)

Halla (breathlessly). Kari!

Kari. My name is not Kari—it is Eyvind. I was sentenced for theft. I fled and lived one year in the hills as an outlaw.

Halla. After this I shall never believe in any one. (Sits down and bursts into tears.)

Kari (kneeling). Do with me what you will. Drive me out of your house now -this evening, or give me into the hands of the law, but you must forgive me. It was our poverty and the snow that made me steal.

Halla (rising). I will not cry. It is stupid to cry. Get up! I am no God that you should ask my forgiveness.

Kari (rising to his feet). It is lonesome to live a whole winter up there in the hills. That is why I ventured down here, far from home, and under a new name. Since then I have gone about like one who walks in his sleep, afraid of the awakening. Many a time have I made up my mind to tell you the whole truth, but somehow it seemed to get harder with every day that passed. I have never understood why it was so before to-night, but now I know it, and now I can speak of it. Kari has loved you. You are the only woman he has ever loved, but now Kari is no more, and never has been anything but the dream of a poor and unhappy man.

Halla. Say no more!

Kari. He has loved you long, but never until to-night has he seen how beautiful you are. (Carried away.) Like a blue mountain rising from the mist!

Halla (stepping close to him). Close your eyes, Kari, and sleep yet a while. Kiss me!

Kari (kissing her). I will sleep with my eyes open.

ACT II

A resting-place near one of the large folds into which the sheep are driven in the autumn, when they are gathered down from the hills. A grass-grown dell. On the left, a steep heather-covered slope, here and there in the heather gray, jutting stones. To the right, a low bluff, where grass, flowers, and juniper bushes grow in the clefts and on the ledges. Toward the background, the bluff becomes lower and more bushy, and bending somewhat to the left, it partly shuts off the view into a hilly, rock-studded landscape with the distant mountains beyond. In the foreground, at the foot of the bluff, several saddles. The women's saddles have broad, brass-mounted backs.

It is a fine autumn day. Gudfinna alone is busy with the luggage.

Enter Arngrim carrying a roll of paper under his arm. His face is livid and drawn.

Arngrim. So you are all alone here.

Gudfinna. Indeed I am. I did not want to leave the luggage, and it seemed a pity to keep the boy from the folds. Arngrim. Is Halla up at the folds?

Gudfinna. I don't know where she is now. She is so restless to-day. A while ago she climbed up on a knoll to see if the last drove was coming down from the hills. I hardly know whether it's the sheep or Kari she is looking for.

Arngrim. We don't get tired of watching for what we are looking forward to. I have but one thing to look forward to. (Sits down on one of the rocks.)

Gudfinna. And what is that, poor fellow?

Arngrim. To hear the nails being driven into my coffin.

Then I should say like the man in the story: “Now I'd laugh if I were n't dead."

Enter Halla, happy and smiling, wearing a silver girdle around her waist.

Halla. The last flock is coming, and it is not the smallest. Kari is with it.

Gudfinna. Of course he is with it.

Halla (laughing). Yes, of course. (To Arngrim.) I am glad to see you here.

Arngrim. Did you happen to bring anything good from home?

Halla (smiling). You never can tell. (Searching in one of the saddle-bags, she finds a blue flask which she hands to Arngrim.) You may keep the bottle.

Arngrim. That is just like you. (Holds the flask up to the light.) There are juniper berries in it. (Takes a pull.) It is like drinking sunshine.

Halla (has moved toward the background and stands gazing). What a change in the sheep since spring. Then they were yellow and dirty, but now they are white as ptarmigans in winter. It always makes me happy to see a flock of sheep coming down the mountain side.

Gudfinna. Kari's shoes must be a sight. He doesn't save his legs, that man.

Halla. No, you are right in that. (Goes to Gudfinna.) But he runs swifter than any one else.

Arngrim. No one can run away from his fate, were he fleeter than the wind.

Halla (turns to Arngrim). Are you sure of that? May not a strong will turn the tide of fate?

Arngrim. My fate no one can alter. (Looks up.) An old