"Oh, no! do not come! But tell me: you are not angry with me?"
"Goodness! how could you think so?"
"Good-by, then, Oyvind, and my thanks for all the happy times we have had together!"
"Wait, Marit!"
"Indeed I must go; they will miss me."
"Marit! Marit!"
"No, I dare not stay away any longer, Oyvind. Good-by."
"Good-by!"
Afterwards he moved about as in a dream, and answered very absently when he was addressed. This was ascribed to his journey, as was quite natural; and indeed it occupied his whole mind at the moment when the school-master took leave of him in the evening and put something into his hand, which he afterwards found to be a five-dollar bill. But later, when he went to bed, he thought not of the journey, but of the words which had come down from the brow of the cliff, and those that had been sent up again. As a child Marit was not allowed to come on the cliff, because her grandfather feared she might fall down. Perhaps she will come down some day, any way.