Ah! what if one ventured to go!"
"Up, heart, up! and away!
Over the mountains high.
For my courage is young and my soul will be gay,
If no longer bound straitly and fettered I stay,
But seeking yon summit to gain,
No more beat my wings here in vain."
The Sorenskriver came in and sat down by Katharine.
"Yes," he said, more to himself than to her, "I remember having those thoughts when I was a young boy. What should I find over the mountains? Ak, and what does one find in exchange for all one's yearning?"
Gerda had sung this beautifully. The natural melancholy of her voice suited to perfection the weird sadness of Norwegian music. The company was gratified. They knew and loved that song well, and some of them joined in timidly at the end of the last verse. The old Gaardmand crept into the room and sat near Knutty.