By half-past nine, the congregation began to appear, coming up in little groups. Many were on horseback.
Alma was outside the house, and it seemed as if the place had suddenly become alive. Little knots of people came into view here and there, far or near, appearing and disappearing between the contours of the landscape. Nearly all were hurrying.
Reaching the church, they dismounted in groups, as they had come, tethering their horses near by. They were unsaddled, and some were merely hobbled and allowed to wander about at will. The churchgoers then set to tidying themselves before the service: pulling off the long riding hose, brushing dirt and hair from their clothes, unpacking collars or aprons, and fastening bows with careful neatness.
Then, having completed their toilet, they began to move about, exchanging greetings and news, collecting in new formations and changing again. A few spoke noisily, but for the most part they talked in an undertone, with much nodding of heads and brief ejaculations.
Alma was a centre of attraction, though most of the curious ones tried to conceal their interested observation. A few of the principal farmers and their wives, knowing who she must be, came up to greet her, but with some awkwardness, when they found she could not understand their speech. And they withdrew to the company of their fellows.
Ørlygur à Borg came alone.
Alma went up to her father-in-law, who smiled and took her hand, flushing like a youth, and with that curious kindly smile of his lighting up the furrowed face. He was looking better, she thought, than he had done the day before.
She took his arm, and would have led him into the house, but he shook his head, and nodded in the direction of the church, where the bell was now ringing in. Most of the congregation were already seated, only a few late comers were hastening up. Among them was old Kata. She thought herself unobserved, and waved a coloured kerchief in the air, muttering to herself: “Away, be off with you, cursed creatures; get away, wicked things.”
The bystanders imagined she was addressing invisible beings, evil spirits and demons,—the fylgjer of those present,—whom she had to drive away to make a passage for herself.
Alma entered the church with Ørlygur, leaning on his arm up the aisle. This was not customary except in the case of bride and bridegroom, but she knew no better. Ørlygur was somewhat embarrassed, but he felt happier than he had done for many a day; not for any consideration would he have withdrawn his arm.