There were a few other travellers in the inn. At eventide they all supped together in a little hearth-room, where there were two beds only; Lavrans and Kristin were to sleep there, for they were the first in rank among the guests. Therefore, when the night drew on a little, the others bade them a friendly good-night as they broke up and went to seek their sleeping places. Kristin thought how it was she who had stolen to Brynhild Fluga’s loft-room to Erlend’s arms—sick with sorrow and with fear that she might never more be his, she thought: no, there was no place for her any more amongst these others.
Her father was sitting on the further bench, looking at her.
“We are not to go to Skog this time?” asked Kristin, to break the silence.
“No,” answered Lavrans. “I have had enough for some time with what your mother’s brother made me listen to—because I would not constrain you,” he added, as she looked up at him questioningly.
“And, truly, I would have made you keep your word,” said he a little after, “had it not been that Simon said, he would not have an unwilling wife.”
“I have never given my word to Simon,” said Kristin quickly. “You have ever said before, that you would never force me into wedlock—”
“’Twould not have been force if I had held you to a bargain that had been published long since and was known to all men,” answered Lavrans. “These two winters past you two have borne the name of handfasted folk, and you have said naught against it, nor shown yourself unwilling, till now your wedding-day was fixed. If you would plead that the business was put off last year, so that you have not yet given Simon your troth; then that I call not upright dealing.”
Kristin stood gazing down into the fire.
“I know not which will seem the worse,” went on her father, “that it be said that you have cast off Simon, or that he has cast you off. Sir Andres sent me word—” Lavrans flushed red as he said it, “—he was wroth with the lad, and bade me crave such amends as I should think fit. I had to say what was true—I know not if aught else had been better—that, should there be amends to make, ’twas rather for us to make them. We are shamed either way.”
“I cannot think there is such great shame,” said Kristin low. “Since Simon and I are of one mind.”