If into the basket, they ne'er can be ta'en!
They called especially for Gunlaug, they would have been mightily pleased to have heard her matchless fury rage.
Gunlaug was sitting within, and heard every word; but she kept silence; one must be able to bear something for the sake of one's child.
VI.
[THE SOUND OF THE CLOCK.]
Petra had been in her room, when the shouting, whistling, and hallooing had begun the first evening. She sprang up as if the house had been on fire, or as if everything were coming down upon her. She ran about in her room as if whipped with burning rods; it burnt through her soul; her thoughts ran impetuously after an outlet;--but down to the mother she dare not go, and they were standing in front of the only window! A stone came flying through, and fell upon her bed; she gave a cry and ran into a corner behind a curtain, and hid herself among her old clothes. There she sat crouched up together, burning with shame, trembling with fear, visions of unknown horrors passed before her, the air was full of faces, gaping, mocking faces, they came quite near, it rained fire round about them;--oh, not fire, but eyes; it rained eyes, large, glowing and small, sparkling; eyes that stood still, eyes that ran up and down,--Jesus, Jesus, save me!
Oh, what a relief, when the last cry died away in the night, and it was quite dark, and quite still. She ventured out, threw herself on the bed, and buried her face in the pillow, but she could not turn away from her thoughts; the mother would come powerfully and threateningly forward, as thunder clouds gather over the mountains, for what would the mother not suffer for her sake! No slumber came to her eyelids, nor peace to her soul, and the day came, but no alleviation.
She went backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards, thinking only how to escape, but she dare not meet her mother, neither dare she go out as long as it was day, and at night they would come again! Yet wait she must, for before midnight it was still more dangerous to flee. And then where to? She possessed nothing, and she knew not any way; yet there must be merciful hearts somewhere, even as there was a merciful God. He knew that the evil she had done was not done in wickedness, He knew her penitence, and He also knew her helplessness. She listened for her mother's steps below, but she did not hear them; she trembled to hear her on the stairs, but she did not come. The girl, too, must have left, for no one came up with her meals. She did not venture to go down, nor to go to the window, for some one might be standing outside waiting for her. The broken pane let in the cold air, in the morning, and still more when night came. She had made up a small bundle of clothes, and dressed herself to be ready; but she must wait for the furious crowd, and then go through whatever came.
There they are again! The whistling, the shouting, the throwing of stones, worse, far worse than the night before; she crept into her corner, folded her hands, and prayed and prayed. If only her mother did not go out to them, if only they did not break in! Then they began to sing, a base lampoon, and though every word cut her with knives, she was yet obliged to listen; but no sooner had she heard that the mother was mixed up with it, that they had been guilty of so shameful an injustice, than she sprang up, she would speak to the dastardly pack from the window, or cast herself down among them;--but a stone, and yet another, and then a whole hailstorm flew through the window, the bits of glass whizzed, the stones rolled about the room, and she crept back again. The perspiration stood upon her forehead, as though she were beneath a burning sun, but she no longer wept,--no longer felt afraid.
Gradually the noise subsided; she ventured forth, and was going to the window to look out, but she trod upon the bits of glass and drew back, then she trod upon the stones, and stood still that she might not be heard; for she must steal quietly away. After waiting a full half hour, she put off her shoes, took up her bundle, and softly opened the door. It pained her to think that after causing her mother all this sorrow, she must leave her without a farewell; but fear overpowered her; "Farewell mother! farewell mother!" she whispered to herself at each step she took down the stairs: "Farewell mother!"--She stood at the bottom, breathed a few times heavily to get air, and then turned towards the passage door. Some one seized her arm from behind, she gave a slight scream, and turned,--it was her mother.