And being smaller than I, she jumps up a little to put her arms round my neck.

"But, Eva, you have scratched your hands. _Herregud_! oh, if you had not scratched them so!"

"It doesn't matter."

Her face beams wonderfully.

"Eva, have you spoken to Herr Mack?"

"Yes, once."

"What did he say, and what did you?"

"He is so hard with us now; he makes my husband work day and night down at the quay, and keeps me at all sorts of jobs as well. He has ordered me to do man's work now."

"Why does he do that?"

Eva looks down.

"Why does he do that, Eva?"

"Because I love you."

"But how could he know?"

"I told him."

Pause.

"Would to Heaven he were not so harsh with you, Eva."

"But it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter at all now."

And her voice is like a little tremulous song in the woods.

The woods more yellow still. It is drawing towards autumn now; a few more stars have come in the sky, and from now on the moon looks like a shadow of silver dipped in gold. There is no cold; nothing, only a cool stillness and a flow of life in the woods. Every tree stands in silent thought. The berries are ripe.

Then--the twenty-second of August and the three iron nights. [Footnote: _Joernnaetter_. Used of the nights in August when the first frosts appear.]

XXIV

The first iron night.

At nine the sun sets. A dull darkness settles over the earth, a star or so can be seen; two hours later there is a glow of the moon. I wander up in the woods with my gun and my dog. I light a fire, and the light of the flames shines in between the fir-trunks. There is no frost.

"The first iron night!" I say. And a confused, pa.s.sionate delight in the time and the place sends a strange shiver through me...

"Hail, men and beasts and birds, to the lonely night in the woods, in the woods! Hail to the darkness and G.o.d's murmuring between the trees, to the sweet, simple melody of silence in my ears, to green leaves and yellow! Hail to the life-sound I hear; a snout against the gra.s.s, a dog sniffing over the ground! A wild hail to the wildcat lying crouched, sighting and ready to spring on a sparrow in the dark, in the dark! Hail to the merciful silence upon earth, to the stars and the half moon; ay, to them and to it!" ...

I rise and listen. No one has heard me. I sit down again.

"Thanks for the lonely night, for the hills, the rush of the darkness and the sea through my heart! Thanks for my life, for my breath, for the boon of being alive to-night; thanks from my heart for these! Hear, east and west, oh, hear. It is the eternal G.o.d. This silence murmuring in my ears is the blood of all Nature seething; it is G.o.d weaving through the world and me. I see a glistening gossamer thread in the light of my fire; I hear a boat rowing across the harbour; the northern lights flare over the heavens to the north. By my immortal soul, I am full of thanks that it is I who am sitting here!"

Silence. A fir cone falls dully to the ground. A fir cone fell! I think to myself. The moon is high, the fire flickers over the half-burned brands and is dying. And in the late night I wander home.

The second iron night; the same stillness and mild weather. My soul is pondering. I walk mechanically over to a tree, pull my cap deep down over my eyes, and lean against that tree, with hands clasped behind my neck. I gazed and think; the flame from my fire dazzles my eyes, and I do not feel it. I stand in that stupor for a while, looking at the fire; my legs fail me first, and grow tired; thoroughly stiff, I sit down. Not till then do I think of what I have been doing. Why should I stare so long at the fire?

aesop lifts his head and listens; he hears footsteps; Eva appears among the trees.

"I am very thoughtful and sad this evening," I say.

And in sympathy she makes no answer.

"I love three things," I go on. "I love a dream of love I once had; I love you; and I love this spot of ground."

"And which do you love most?"

"The dream."

All still again. aesop knows Eva; he lays his head on one side and looks at her. I murmur:

"I saw a girl on the road to-day; she walked arm in arm with her lover.

The girl looked towards me, and could scarcely keep from laughing as I pa.s.sed."

"What was she laughing at?"

"I don't know. At me, I suppose. Why do you ask?"

"Did you know her?"

"Yes. I bowed."

"And didn't she know you?"

"No, she acted as if she didn't know me... But why do you sit there worming things out of me? It is not a nice thing to do. You will not get me to tell you her name."

Pause.

I murmur again:

"What was she laughing at? She is a flirt; but what was she laughing at?

What had I done to harm her?"