The Fisher Girl

by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

She started, as before a sudden flash of lightning,--a shade of anxiety passed over, but it lightened again; this was indeed a marvel.

As fully as Yngve Vold had occupied her thoughts during the last three weeks, she was now turned round. He was the wealthiest man in the place, and of the oldest family; he would raise her up to him regardless of all considerations. This was something so different from her thoughts during all this time of vexation and suffering, that it might well begin to make her happy! And she grew happier and happier as she realized her new position. She felt herself every one's equal, and all her longings were about to be fulfilled. She saw Yngve Vold's finest vessel bedecked as the flag-ship on her wedding day, and, amid the salute of the minute gun, and fireworks, take them on board to bear them to Spain, where the wedding sun was glowing.

When Petra awoke next day, the girl came up to tell her it was half-past eleven o'clock; she felt ravenously hungry, eat her breakfast and wanted more,--complained of headache and weariness, and soon fell asleep again; on awaking about three in the afternoon, she felt quite well. The mother came up and said she had undoubtedly slept away an illness, for she used to do so herself; but now she must get up and go to the sewing school. Petra was sitting upright in bed, and leaned her head upon her arm; without getting up she answered that she was not going to the sewing school any more. The mother thought she must be still a little dazed, and went down to get a parcel and a letter that a sailor boy had brought. There were the gifts already! As soon as she was alone, Petra, who had laid down again, got up in haste and opened the parcel with a certain solemnity; it contained a pair of French shoes; a little disappointed she was putting them aside, when she felt them heavy in the toes; she put her hand into one of them and drew forth a small parcel folded in fine paper; it was a gold bracelet; in the other was also a parcel, carefully wrapped up; a pair of French gloves,--and in the right hand she found a scrap of paper containing two plain gold rings. "Already!" thought Petra, her heart beat as she looked for the inscription, and read in the one, sure enough: "Petra," with the date, and in the other: "Gunnar." She turned pale, threw the rings and all the rest on the floor as though she had burnt herself, and hastily opened the letter. It was dated "Calais;"--she read:

"Dear Petra,

We had a fair wind from the sixty-first to the fifty-fourth degree of latitude, and afterwards got here under a strong side wind, which is unusual even for better vessels than ours, which is a fine craft under full sail. But now you must know that all the way I have been thinking about you, and about that which last occurred between us two, and am grieved that I could not see you to bid you good-bye. I went on board very vexed about it, but have never forgotten you since, except now and then in between, for a sailor has hard times of it. Now we have got here, and I have used all my wages to buy you presents as you asked me, and the money I got of mother, too, so I have none left. But, if I get leave, I shall come as soon as the gifts, for as long as it is secret, there is no certainty about others, especially young men, of whom there are many; but I will have it certain, so that no one can excuse himself, but beware of me. You can easily get a better one than me, for you can get any one you choose, but you can never get a truer, and that is me. Now I will conclude, for I have used up two sheets, and the letters are getting so large; it is the worst thing I have to do, but I do it, nevertheless, as you wish it. And so in conclusion I will say, that I hope it was earnest; for it was not earnest, it was a great sin, and will bring misfortune upon many.

Gunnar Ask,

Second Mate, 'Norwegian Constitution.'"

Overwhelmed with fear, she jumped out of bed and dressed herself. She felt as if she must go out, where there was counsel to be had somewhere; for all had become obscure, uncertain, dangerous. The more she thought about it, the more tangled the thread became; some one must help to unravel it, or she never could get loose! But in whom dare she confide? There could be no one but the mother. When after a hard struggle she stood beside her in the kitchen, afraid and almost weeping, but determined to give complete confidence, that the assistance might be complete, the mother said without looking round, and therefore without observing Petra's face: "He has just been here; he has got home again."--"Who?" whispered Petra, holding fast for support; for if Gunnar were really come, all hope was lost. She knew Gunnar; he was dull and good-natured, but let him once get vexed, and he grew frantic. "You must not be long in going there," he said.--"There?" shuddered Petra, she jumped to the conclusion that he must have told her mother all about it, and then what would happen?--"Yes, to the Rectory," said the mother. "To the Rectory? Is it Odegaard that has come home?"--The mother turned round now: "Yes, who else?"--"Odegaard!" cried Petra, and the storm of joy cleared the air in an instant: "Odegaard has come, Odegaard, oh! he has got back!" she was out at the door and up over the fields. She rushed on, she laughed, she cried aloud; it was him, him, she wanted; if he had been at home, this trouble would never have come! With him she was safe; if she only thought upon his lofty beaming countenance, his mild voice, even upon the quiet rooms, rich in images, where he dwelt, she grew more peaceful, and a sense of security came over her. She took a moment to collect herself. Landscape and town were bathed in a stream of light, on that early autumn night, the fiord especially shone with a radiant splendour; out there in the haven, the last smoke was curling up from the steamer that had brought Odegaard. Oh! simply to know that he was at home again, did her good, and made her resolute and strong; she prayed to God to help her that Odegaard might never leave her more. And just as her heart was raised in this hope, she saw him coming towards her; he had known which way she would take, and had come to meet her! This touched her, she sprang towards him, grasped both his hands and kissed them; he felt ashamed, and seeing some one coming in the distance, he drew her with him up among the trees, away from the road; he held her hands in his, and she said the whole way: "How delightful that you have come! No, I can hardly believe it is you, oh! you must never go away again! Do not leave me, no, do not leave me!" Here her tears began to flow, he drew her head gently towards him; he wished to soothe her, for it was needful for his own sake that she should be calm. She crept close to him, as the bird under the wing that is lifted for it, and she did not wish to come forth any more.

Overcome by this confidence, he put his arm round her, as if to provide her the shelter she sought; but hardly had she perceived this, when she lifted her tearful face, her eyes met his, and all that can be exchanged in a glance, when penitence meets love, when gratitude meets the joy of the giver, when yes meets yes, followed in quick succession. He embraced her and pressed his lips against hers; he had lost his mother early, and kissed for the first time in his life; it was the same with her. They could not release themselves, and when at last they did, it was only to embrace once more. He was trembling, whilst she was radiant and blushing; she threw her arms round his neck; she clung to him like a child. And when they seated themselves, and she could play about his hands, his hair, his breast-pin, neckerchief, all these that she had been accustomed to regard respectfully from a distance, and when he bade her say "thou" and not "you," and she could not, and when he would tell her how rich she had made his poor life from the first hour, how long he had fought against it, that he might not check her with this, nor let himself be paid thus, and when he noticed that she was unable to understand or gather a word of what he was saying, and when he himself also no longer found any meaning in it; when she wanted to go home with him at once, and he had laughingly to bid her wait a few days, and then they would go away altogether,--when they felt, when they said, whilst they sat among the trees, with the fiord, and mountains, and evening sun before them, whilst the horn and song sounded far in the distance, that this was happiness.

Oh! sweet is love's first meeting