Then Hansa, clinging closely to Niels the while, told him all that had befallen her, and of the pleasant home she had found, and added, boldly;
"Father, let me take these kind friends some gifts; we have so much, and I wish to make them happy."
"Take what you want, child," said Haakon. "And see! here is a bag of silver marks; give it to Peder Olsen, and say that each year I will fill it anew for him, so that he shall never more want." Then, turning to Niels, he added: "Go you, too, with Hansa. Surely those kind people will give you a home as well. It is better for you both that you have a happier home, and care; and I—can lead my life best alone."
In the wood-cutter's little hut, Olga was the first to discover Hansa's absence.
"Ah, you naughty boys!" cried she. "You have driven my new sister away!"—and she wept all day and would not be comforted.
Bed-time came, but brought no trace of Hansa. Poor, tender-hearted Olga cried herself to sleep; while Olaf and Erik were really both frightened and sorry, and whispered privately to each other, under their reindeer blanket, that if Hansa should ever come back, they would be very good to her.
"And I will give her my Sunday cap," said Erik, "since she cannot wear my shoes."
Two, three, four days went by, and still Hansa came not; and father Peder, who was the last to give up hope, said, finally:
"I fear we shall never see our little maid again."
The children gathered around him, sorrowing, while Dame Ingeborg threw her apron over her head, and rocked to and fro in her big chair in the chimney corner.