Two ladies then joined him. The gentleman was a pale, and exceedingly intellectual-looking man. We understood him to say that he had seen some account of us in the Times. Afterwards, we heard him addressed as Doctor.
Directly after, some more ladies came down the hill from the opposite direction, accompanied by one or two young gentlemen. One, a tall, gentlemanly, amiable, young Norwegian, is especially selected to converse with us in English, and act as interpreter.
In very good English he said, “I pray you, sir, speak slowly, and I can understand you.” We did so, and managed exceedingly well.
Our visitors had now increased to quite a large party of ladies and gentlemen, all surrounding our gipsies and donkeys, talking, discussing, asking questions, all in one breath. It was quite a roadside scene, as we almost blocked up the narrow part of the way at the foot of two short ascents. The sun was exceedingly hot, fiery, and bright.
Just at this moment, a lady in a carriole, driven by her skydskarl, came down the rather steep descent towards us. She was of English distinguée type of beauty, and did not appear either comfortable, or delighted with her mode of travelling. There was a pallor on her countenance; she seemed nervous and delicate.
Another carriole, coming immediately behind, was driven by a nice, good-humoured, handsome fellow, we judged to be her husband. His wife, who did not speak, had, like many who journey through life, a care-worn impress written on every line of her thoughtful countenance.
They had scarcely gone past, when the English traveller suddenly pulled up, and we had a few minutes’ converse. We thought he seemed, half to envy our independent mode of travelling, for at parting he said, “Just the thing I should like,” and, smiling, wished us a pleasant journey.
After our English travellers had left us, we found our visitors still interested in our gipsies, animals, and baggage. Noah soon unpacked our tin box, and we presented one of our songs to the Doctor, one to the young gentleman who spoke English, and one to a very pleasant, kind, amiable lady of the party.
Whilst Noah was rearranging our baggage, the young gentleman who spoke English said, “Come further, where there is ombre.” Very shortly we came to another exceedingly comfortable, good-sized house, standing in its nice pleasant garden, with an approach from the road. The “Slidre Fjord” was below it, and the situation was delightful. There they pressed us to remain, and take rest; we would find shade and convenience. Finding we could not stay, one of the ladies ordered her servants to bring out bottled Baiersk öl and glasses, and a large jug of excellent draught beer, which at last we consented to have. We halted ’neath the shade of a tree which overhung the road. Our gipsies were very thirsty; we were obliged to be very firm as to quantity. Our kind friends pressed us much to stay with our tents, but our time was limited.
Then our guitar, and Zachariah’s violin were tuned up: the heat and knocking about had not improved their tone. We sang for our kind entertainers our gipsy song. Afterwards, three of the young ladies (and they were very good-looking), joined by one of the young gentlemen, sang for us. Very nicely they sang; one held a small book of Norwegian songs, to assist the memory. Noah and Zachariah afterwards gave them some music, with their violin and tambourine.