Leif was all fire and flame, and consequently not to be resisted. At last Ingolf yielded. "We can journey there in the summer and survey the country," he said.
When Leif had got Ingolf so far, he became wild with joy and dangerous to approach. Ingolf had to wrestle with him; there was no getting out of it. A little after they were both lying in the soft snow. When the wrestle was thus over, they began to pile snow on each other, till they had to stop for laughing. The boy was uppermost in each of them. They were happy, and forgot to be troubled and anxious at the loss of their property. Blood and life surged through them. They could still fight as in the old days.
IX
Ingolf kept deeply secreted in his heart the image of a young girl. Her name was Hallveig, and hers was the only woman's look which had ever stirred his soul. Her grey eyes lived so vividly in his memory, he could see them before him when he wished. The thought of them made his usually quiet heart quiver. Her name was Hallveig, and her image was painfully and distinctly impressed on his mind.
He had seen her for the first time in the preceding winter when, on one of his trading journeys, he had spent the night at the house of her father, Frode. And that first time had hitherto been the only one.
He had made the acquaintance of her father, Frode, and her brother, Lopt, before, at various sacrificial feasts. Lopt and himself had much in common. Lopt was a quiet and rather reserved man. His whole appearance bore the stamp of the well-to-do yeoman farmer's firmness and self-possession. Lopt and Ingolf had always felt attracted by each other. They were both strong, high-born men without deceit or flaw in their minds. A mutual consciousness of their inner affinity had from the beginning brought them near each other.
Thus Ingolf came to the house one winter evening and saw Lopt's sister. Her name was Hallveig, and she was only eighteen. She was very serious. Ingolf never saw her smile like other young women. Already her inner seriousness roused great disquiet in his mind. Hallveig did not go about lavishing her smiles. Her look was watchful and critical. She looked at people, and had a scale to weigh them by. One became clear about one's value under her look. And her look did not flinch nor change like that of other women when one encountered it. It met one like a man's. It was in some degree a boy's look, thought Ingolf. He sat there that evening and could take neither his eyes nor his thoughts from Hallveig. Lopt and Frode often had to repeat their questions to him. The whole of Ingolf's listening faculty was turned inward and not outward. He sat by her side and forgot both them and himself. All that he knew was that now and then he cast a furtive glance at Hallveig. And yet he sat the whole time and looked at her. It was the first time that Ingolf had been in love, and it was of benefit to him. The next day was fixed for his departure, but he did not go. He was travelling with important objects, and it would be very extraordinary if he delayed his journey without special reason. But he remained all the same, and forgot to give himself or others a reason for it. He simply remained because it was impossible for him to go that day.
He had a long talk with Hallveig, sitting by her side in the morning. A little after (so it seemed) he was surprised to find it already evening. How the day had gone was a puzzle to him. He was lost.
Ingolf did not find it at all surprising that he found such a good opportunity to talk with Hallveig undisturbed. He had neither time to notice nor to reflect upon the fact that Lopt and Frode had left them alone the whole day. He had no idea that any one could look at him and observe from his behaviour what impression Hallveig had made upon him.