tales from two hemispheres[1].(两个半球的故事)-第13章
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was irrational； and this very sense drew her more hopelessly into the maze
of the labyrinth from which she saw no escape。
His visits were as regular as those of the sun。 She knew that there
was only a word of hers needed to banish him from her presence forever。
And how many times did she not resolve to speak that word？ But the
word was never spoken。 At times a company of the lads from the valley
would come to spend a merry evening at the saeter； but she heeded them
not； and they soon disappeared。 Thus the summer went amid passing
moods of joy and sorrow。 She had long known that he loved her； and
when at last his slow confession came； it added nothing to her happiness；
it only increased her fears for the future。 They laid many plans together
in those days； but winter came as a surprise to both； the cattle were
removed from the mountains； and they were again separated。
Bjarne Blakstad looked long and wistfully at his daughter that morning；
when he came to bring her home。 She wore no more rings and brooches；
and it was this which excited Bjarne's suspicion that everything was not
right with her。 Formerly he was displeased because she wore too many；
now he grumbled because she wore none。
II。
The winter was half gone； and in all this time Brita had hardly once
seen Halvard。 Yes； once；it was Christmas…day；she had ventured to
peep over to his pew in the church； and had seen him； sitting at his father's
side； and gazing vacantly out into the empty space； but as he had caught
her glance； he had blushed； and began eagerly to turn the leaves of his
hymn… book。 It troubled her that he made no effort to see her； many an
evening she had walked alone down at the river…side； hoping that he might
come； but it was all in vain。 She could not but believe that his father
must have made some discovery； and that he was watched。 In the mean
time the black cloud thickened over her head； for a secret gnawed at the
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very roots of her heart。 It was a time of terrible suspense and suffering
such as a man never knows； such as only a woman can endure。 It was
almost a relief when the cloud burst； and the storm broke loose； as
presently it did。
One Sunday； early in April； Bjarne did not return at the usual hour
from church。 His daughters waited in vain for him with the dinner； and
at last began to grow uneasy。 It was not his habit to keep irregular hours。
There was a great excitement in the valley just then； the America…fever
had broken out。 A large vessel was lying out in the fjord； ready to take
the emigrants away； and there was hardly a family that did not mourn the
loss of some brave…hearted son； or of some fair and cherished daughter。
The old folks； of course； had to remain behind； and when the children
were gone； what was there left for them but to lie down and die？
America was to them as distant as if it were on another planet。 The
family feeling； too； has ever been strong in the Norseman's breast； he lives
for his children； and seems to live his life over again in them。 It is his
greatest pride to be able to trace his blood back into the days of Sverre and
St。 Olaf； and with the same confidence he expects to see his race spread
into the future in the same soil where once it has struck root。 Then
comes the storm from the Western seas； wrestles with the sturdy trunk； and
breaks it； and the shattered branches fly to all the four corners of the
heavens。 No wonder； then； like a tree that has lost its crown； his strength
is broken and he expects but to smoulder into the earth and die。
Bjarne Blakstad； like the sturdy old patriot that he was； had always
fiercely denounced the America rage； and it was now the hope of his
daughters that； perhaps； he had stayed behind to remind the restless ones
among the youth of their duty toward their land； or to frighten some bold
emigration agent who might have been too loud in his declamations。 But
it was already eight o'clock and Bjarne was not yet to be seen。 The night
was dark and stormy； a cold sleet fiercely lashed the window…panes； and
the wind roared in the chimney。 Grimhild； the younger sister； ran
restlessly out and in and slammed the doors after her。 Brita sat tightly
pressed up against the wall in the darkest corner of the room。 Every time
the wind shook the house she started up； then again seated herself and
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shuddered。 Dark forebodings filled her soul。
At last；the clock had just struck ten；there was a noise heard in the
outer hall。 Grimhild sprang to the door and tore it open。 A tall；
stooping figure entered； and by the dress she at once recognized her father。
〃Good God；〃 cried she； and ran up to him。
〃Go away； child；〃 muttered he； in a voice that sounded strangely
unfamiliar； and he pushed her roughly away。 For a moment he stood still；
then stalked up to the table； and； with a heavy thump； dropped down into a
chair。 There he remained with his elbows resting on his knees； and
absently staring on the floor。 His long hair hung in wet tangles down
over his face； and the wrinkles about his mouth seemed deeper and fiercer
than usual。 Now and then he sighed； or gave vent to a deep groan。 In a
while his eyes began to wander uneasily about the room； and as they
reached the corner where Brita was sitting； he suddenly darted up； as if
stung by something poisonous； seized a brand from the hearth； and rushed
toward her。
〃Tell me I did not see it；〃 he broke forth； in a hoarse whisper； seizing
her by the arm and thrusting the burning brand close up to her face。 〃Tell
me it is a liea black； poisonous lie。〃
She raised her eyes slowly to his and gazed steadfastly into his face。
〃Ah；〃 he continued in the same terrible voice； 〃it was what I told them
down there at the churcha liean infernal lie。 And I drew bloodblood；
I sayI didfrom the slanderer。 Ha； ha； ha！ What a lusty sprawl that
was！〃
The color came and departed from Brita's cheeks。 And still she was
strangely self possessed。 She even wondered at her own calmness。
Alas； she did not know that it was a calmness that is more terrible than
pain； the corpse of a forlorn and hopeless heart。
〃Child；〃 continued Bjarne； and his voice assumed a more natural tone；
〃why dost thou not speak？ They have lied about thee； child； because
thou art fair； they have envied thee。〃 Then； almost imploringly； 〃Open
thy mouth； Brita； and tell thy father that thou art pure pure as the snow；
childmy ownmy beautiful child。〃
There was a long and painful pause； in which the crackling of the
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brand； and the heavy breathing of the old man were the only sounds to
break the silence。 Pale like a marble image stood she before him； no
word of excuse； no prayer for forgiveness escaped her； only a convulsive
quivering of the lips betrayed the life that struggled within her。 With
every moment the hope died in Bjarne's bosom。 His visage was fearful
to behold。 Terror and fierce indomitable hatred had grimly distorted his
features； and his eyes burned like fire…coals beneath his bushy brows。
〃Harlot；〃 he shrieked； 〃harlot！〃
A cold gust of wind swept through the room。 The windows shook；
the doors flew open； as if touched by a strong invisible handand the old
man stood alone； holding the flickering brand above his head。
It was after midnight； the wind had abated； but the snow still fell； thick
and silent； burying paths and fences under its cold white mantle。 Onward
she fledonward and ever onward。 And whither； she knew not。 A cold
numbness had chilled her senses； but still her feet drove her irresistibly
onward。 A dark current seemed to have seized her； she only felt that she
was adrift； and she cared not whither it bore her。 In spite of the stifling
dullness which oppressed her； her body seemed as light as air。 At last；
she knew not where；she heard the roar of the sea resounding in her ears；
a genial warmth thawed the numbness of her senses； and she floated
joyfully among the cloudsamong golden； sun…bathed clouds。 When she
opened her eyes； she found herself lying in a comfortable bed； and a
young woman with a kind motherly face was sitting at her side。 It was
all like a dream； and she made no effort to account for what appeared so
strange and unaccountable。
What she afterward heard was that a fisher… man had found her in a
snow…drift on the strand； and that he had carried her home to his cottage
and had given her over to the charge of his wife。 This was the second
day since her arrival。 They knew who she was； but had kept the doors
locked and had told no one that she was there。 She heard the story of the
good woman without emotion； it seemed an intolerable effort to think。
But on the third day； when her child was born； her mind was suddenly
aroused from its lethargy； and she calmly matured her plans； and for the
child's sake she resolved to live and to act。 That same evening there
