“Eline came thither in the autumn,” said he after a moment. “I cannot move her to leave the place,” he went on hotly, “not unless I bear her to the sledge by force and drive away with her. And that methought I could not do—she has brought both our children home with her—”
Kristin felt herself sinking, sinking. In a voice breaking with fear, she said:
“I deemed you were parted from her—”
“So deemed I too,” answered Erlend shortly. “But she must have heard in Österdal, where she was, that I had thoughts of marriage. You saw the man with me at the Yule-tide feast—’twas my foster-father, Baard Petersön of Hestnæs. I went to him when I came from Sweden, I went to my kinsman Heming Alvsön in Saltviken, too; I talked with both about my wish to wed, and begged their help. Eline must have come to hear of it—
“I bade her ask what she would for herself and the children—but Sigurd, her husband—they look not that he should live the winter out—and then none could deny us if we would live together—
“—I lay in the stable with Haftor and Ulv, and Eline lay in the hall in my bed. I trow my men had a rare jest to laugh at behind my back—”
Kristin could not say a word. A little after, Erlend spoke again:
“See you, the day we pledge each other at our espousals, she must understand that all is over between her and me—she has no power over me any more—
“But ’tis hard for the children. I had not seen them for a year—they are fair children—and little can I do to give them a happy lot. ’Twould not have helped them greatly had I been able to wed their mother.”
Tears began to roll down over Kristin’s cheeks. Then Erlend said: