The ladies could no longer hear this uproar, without finding out what it was. Now the door was open. Odegaard seeing Petra among them, said with emphasis: "It is true there are actors who get excited upon the stage, then rush to church, and get excited there,--and still they are the same. But in general actors, in common with seamen, are so often placed in the direst extremity, (for the moment before they enter must be awful!) and so often come face to face with the great, the unexpected, are so often called to be instruments in the hands of the Lord, that they bear in their hearts a fear and longing, a strong feeling of unworthiness; and this we know, that Christ preferred to be with publicans and penitent women. I give them no charter; verily the greater their work, the greater their guilt if their work leads them into rashness, or degenerates into loose frivolity. But as there is no actor, who has not learnt, by a series of disappointments how worthless applause and flattery is, although the most behave as though believing in it,--in the same way we see their mistakes and faults, but we do not know so well their own relation to them, and on that it depends--considered from a Christian point of view."
Several rose, and began to speak all together, but--
"Fourteen years surely I must have been--"
sounded in from the piano, and they streamed into the room; for it was Signe who was singing, and Signe's Swedish melodies and the way in which she sang them, were most delightful. One song followed another, and as the first melodies of the land, faithful messages from the heart of a great people, had had an elevating effect, and they were now standing in anticipation, Odegaard rose and asked Petra to recite a poem. She must have been conscious of it, for her face was crimson. She stepped forward at once,--though she trembled so that she was obliged to hold fast by the back of a chair,--turned very pale and began:--
He could not get leave to go to sea,
His mother was weak, his father was old,
The farm was increasing a hundred fold:--
"Why should he with the Vikings roam?
Here he has all he can wish for at home."
But the youth in the clouds, as they onward sped,
Saw armèd hosts to the battle led;
And the youth would pine when he saw the sun,
'Twas the King in state after victories won.
He pondered the sagas of ancient days,
He forgot his work in the Vikings' praise.
There came a morning, away went he,
To the outermost isle by the open sea,
To see the breakers come dashing in,
And list to the distant battle's din.
It was a day in the early spring,
When the voice of the storm is on the wing:
"Earth shall not ice-bound slumber longer!"--