The monk laughed himself:
“Aye, and when the ox heard that, he began to low: ‘Ubi, ubi, ubi.’
“But the goat bleated and said: ‘Betlem, Betlem, Betlem!’
“And the sheep longed so to see Our Lady and her Son that she baaed out at once: ‘Eamus, eamus!’
“And the newborn calf that lay in the straw, raised itself and stood upon its feet. ‘Volo, volo, volo!’ it said.
“You never heard that before? No, I can believe it; I know that he is a worthy priest, that Sira Eirik that you have up in your parts, and learned; but he knows not this, I warrant; for a man does not learn it except he journey to Paris—”
“Have you been to Paris then?” asked the child.
“God bless you, little Kristin, I have been in Paris and have travelled round elsewhere in the world as well; and you must not believe aught else than that I am afraid of the devil, and love and covet like any other fool. But I hold fast to the Cross with all my might—one must cling to it like a kitten to a lath when it has fallen in the sea—
“And you, Kristin—how would you like to offer up this bonny hair and serve Our Lady like these brides I have figured here?”
“We have no child at home but me,” answered Kristin. “So ’tis like that I must marry. And I trow mother has chests and lockers with my bridal gear standing ready even now.”
“Aye, aye,” said Brother Edvin, and stroked her forehead. “ ’Tis thus that folk deal with their children now. To God they give the daughters who are lame or purblind or ugly or blemished, or they let Him have back the children when they deem Him to have given them more than they need. And then they wonder that all who dwell in the cloisters are not holy men and maids—”
Brother Edvin took her into the sacristy and showed her the cloister books which stood there in a bookcase; there were the fairest pictures in them. But when one of the monks came in, Brother Edvin made as though he were but seeking an ass’s head to copy. Afterward he shook his head at himself:
“Aye, there you see what fear does, Kristin—but they’re so fearful about their books in the house here. Had I the true faith and love, I would not stand here as I do and lie to Brother Aasulv—But then I could take these old fur mittens here and hang them upon yonder sunbeam—”
She was with the monk to dinner over in the guesthouse, but for the rest she sat in the church the whole day and watched his work and chatted with him. And first when Lavrans came to fetch her, did either she or the monk remember the message that should have been sent to the shoemaker.
Afterwards Kristin remembered these days in Hamar better than all else that befell her on the long journey. Oslo, indeed, was a greater town than Hamar, but now that she had seen a market town, it did not seem to her so notable. Nor did she deem it as fair at Skog as at Jörundgaard, though the houses were grander—but she was glad she was not to dwell there. The manor lay upon a hillside; below was the Botnfjord, grey, and sad with dark forest, and on the further shore and behind the houses the forest stood with the sky right down upon the treetops. There were no high, steep fells as at home, to hold the heavens high above one and to keep the sight sheltered and in bounds so that the world might seem neither too big nor too little.
The journey home was cold; it was nigh upon Advent; but, when they were come a little way up the Dale, snow was lying, and so they borrowed sleighs and drove most of the way.
With the affair of the estates it fell out so that Lavrans made Skog over to his brother Aasmund, keeping the right of redemption for himself and his heirs.
III
The spring after Kristin’s long journey, Ragnfrid bore her husband another daughter. Both father and mother had wished indeed that it might be a son, but they soon took comfort, and were filled with the tenderest love for little Ulvhild. She was a most fair child, healthy, good, happy and quiet. Ragnfrid doted so on this new baby that she went on suckling it during the second year of its life; wherefore, on Sira Eirik’s counsel, she left off somewhat her strict fasts and religious exercises while she had the child at the breast. On this account and by reason of her joy in Ulvhild, her bloom came back to her, and Lavrans thought he had never seen his wife so happy or so fair and kindly in all the years he had been wed.
Kristin, too, felt that great happiness had come to them with this tender little sister. That her mother’s heavy mood made a stillness about her home, had never come into her thought; she had deemed it was but as it should be that her mother should correct and chide her, while her father played and jested with her. But Ragnfrid was much gentler with her now and gave her more freedom; petted her more too; and so Kristin little heeded that her mother had much less time to tend her. She loved Ulvhild as much as the others, and was joyful when they let her carry or rock her sister, and in time there was still more sport with the little one when she began to creep and walk and talk and Kristin could play with her.
Thus there went by three good years for the Jörundgaard folk. They had fortune with them in many ways, and Lavrans built and bettered round about on the manor,
