"But if," said Helga excitedly, getting closer, "you had some one beside you who had the courage of life, the defiance of life----"
"Helga!" cried Oscar, breathing heavily--the earth seemed to be slipping under him like an avalanche.
"Some one who would go on helping you, and ask nothing but your comradeship----"
"Helga! Helga!" He was gasping as for breath in the intoxication of his emotion.
"Nothing but to work with you and to conquer the world with you----"
"Helga! Helga! Helga!"
"Oscar!"
There was a breathless cry from both, and then an almost inaudible whisper, "I shall not go back to-night, Helga."
* * * * *
When they came to themselves again they were returning--more flushed and excited than before--out of the white moonlight into the yellow mist of the smoking lamp that hung over the dancers in the hall. The young townspeople received them with a shout and called on them to join the dance they were dancing. It was called "Weaving the Cloth," and the figures were intended to represent the spinning and carding, the weaving, stretching, hammering and rolling of the thick Icelandic Vadmal.