Lavrans grew red as blood:
“No,” he said curtly.
“Then you know not what you do,” cried Kristin wildly, “if you part Erlend Nikulaussön and me.”
Lavrans sat himself down again on the bench.
“You are but seventeen, Kristin,” he began again. “It may be so that you and he—that you have come to be more dear to each other than I thought could be. But he is not so young a man but he should have known—had he been a good man, he had never come near a young, unripe child like you with words of love—That you were promised to another, seemed to him, mayhap, but a small thing.
“But I wed not my daughter to a man who has two children by another’s wedded wife. You know that he has children?
“You are too young to understand that such a wrong breeds enmity in a kindred—and hatred without end. The man cannot desert his own offspring, and he cannot do them right—hardly will he find a way to bring his son forth among good folk, or to get his daughter married with any but a serving-man or a cottar. They were not flesh and blood, those children, if they hated not you and your children with a deadly hate—
“See you not, Kristin—such sins as these—it may be that God may forgive such sins more easily than many others—but they lay waste a kindred in such wise that it can never be made whole again. I thought of Björn and Aashild too—there stood this Munan, her son; he was blazing with gold; he sits in the Council of the King’s Counsellors; they hold their mother’s heritage, he and his brothers; and he hath not come once to greet his mother in her poverty in all these years. Aye, and ’twas this man your lover had chosen to be his spokesman.
“No, I say—no! Into that kindred you shall never come, while my head is above the ground.”
Kristin buried her face in her hands and broke into weeping:
“Then will I pray God night and day, night and day, that if you change not your will, He may take me away from this earth.”
“It boots not to speak more of this tonight,” said her father, with anguish in his voice. “You believe it not now, maybe; but I must needs guide your life so as I may hope to answer it hereafter. Go now, child, and rest.”
He held out his hand toward her; but she would not see it and went sobbing from the room.
The father and mother sat on a while. Then Lavrans said to his wife:
“Would you fetch me in a draught of ale?—no, bring in a little wine,” he asked. “I am weary—”
Ragnfrid did as he asked. When she came back with the tall wine stoup, her husband was sitting with his face hidden in his hands. He looked up, and passed his hand over her headdress and her sleeves:
“Poor wife, now you are wet—Come, drink to me, Ragnfrid.”
She barely touched the cup with her lips.
“Nay, now drink with me,” said Lavrans vehemently, and tried to draw her down on his knees. Unwillingly the woman did as he bade. Lavrans said: “You will stand by me in this thing, wife of mine, will you not? Surely ’twill be best for Kristin herself that she understand from the very outset she must drive this man from her thoughts.”
“ ’Twill be hard for the child,” said the mother.
“Aye; well do I see it will,” said Lavrans.
They sat silent awhile, then Ragnfrid asked:
“How looks he, this Erlend of Husaby?”
“Oh,” said Lavrans slowly, “a proper fellow enough—after a fashion. But he looks not a man that is fit for much but to beguile women.”
They were silent again for a while; then Lavrans said:
“The great heritage that came to him from Sir Nikulaus—with that I trow he has dealt so that it is much dwindled. ’Tis not for such a son-in-law that I have toiled and striven to make my children’s lives sure.”
The mother wandered restlessly up and down the room. Lavrans went on:
“Least of all did it like me that he sought to tempt Kolbein with silver—to bear a secret letter to Kristin.”
“Looked you what was in the letter?” asked Ragnfrid.
“No, I did not choose,” said Lavrans curtly. “I handed it back to Sir Munan, and told him what I thought of such doings. Erlend had hung his seal to it too—I know not what a man should say of such child’s tricks. Sir Munan would have me see the device of the seal; that ’twas King Skule’s privy seal, come to Erlend through his father. His thought was, I trow, that I might bethink me how great an honour they did me to sue for my daughter. But ’tis in my mind that Sir Munan had scarce pressed on this matter for Erlend so warmly, were it not that in this man’s hands ’tis downhill with the might and honour of the Husaby kindred, that it won in Sir Nikulaus’ and Sir Baard’s days—No longer can Erlend look to make such a match as befitted his birth.”
Ragnfrid stopped before her husband:
“Now I know not, husband, if you are right in this matter. First must it be said that, as times are now, many men round about us on the great estates have had to be content with less of power and honour than their fathers had before them. And you, yourself, best know that ’tis less easy now for a man to win riches either from land or from merchantry than it was in the old world—”
“I know, I know,” broke in Lavrans impatiently. “All the more does it behoove a man to guide warily the goods that have come down to him—”
But his wife went on:
“And this, too, is to be said: I see not that Kristin can be an uneven match for Erlend. In Sweden your kin sit among the best, and your father, and his father before him, bore the name of knights in this
