A small stone came rolling down, as though it were a forerunner, and all who stood there must watch its course to the bottom. Some could not bear it longer, and went away. The girl still standing high upon the stone, wrung her hands and gazed up. Leif took hold again with one hand; it slipped, she saw it distinctly; he made a grasp with the other, it slipped also; "Leif!" she cried, so that it rang in the mountain, and all the others joined in. "He's slipping!" they cried, and stretched out their hands towards him, men and women. He continued to slip with the sand, stone, and soil; slip, slip, faster, faster. The people turned away, and then they heard a rustling and rattling on the mountain behind them, and something heavy fall down like a great piece of wet earth. When they looked round again, there he lay, torn and disfigured. The girl lay on the stone; the father took her up and carried her away. The lads, who had the most excited Leif to climb, dared not now go near to help him, some could not even look at him; so the old people had to come forward. The eldest of them said, as he took him up, "Alas! alas! but,--" he added, "it is well there is something hangs so high that every one cannot reach it." FINIS. THE FATHER. Thord Overaas, of whom we are about to speak, was the wealthiest man in the parish. His tall figure stood one day in the pastor's study: "I have got a son," he said eagerly, "and I wish to have him baptised." "What shall he be called?" "Finn, after my father." "And his god parents?" They were named, being relatives of Thord, and the best men and women in the district. "Is there anything else?" asked the pastor, and looked up. The farmer stood a minute; "I should like to have him baptised by himself," he said. "That is to say on a week day?" "Next Saturday, at twelve o'clock." "Is there anything else?" "Nothing else." The farmer took his hat, and moved to go. Then the pastor rose; "There is still this," he said, and going up to Thord, he took his hand, and looked him in the face: "God grant that the child may be a blessing to you!" Sixteen years after that day, Thord stood again in the pastor's study. "You look exceedingly well, Thord," said the pastor; he saw no change in him. "I have no trouble," replied Thord. The pastor was silent, but a moment after: "What is your errand to-night?" he asked. "I have come to-night about my son, who is to be confirmed to-morrow." "He is a clever lad." "I did not wish to pay the pastor, before I heard what number he would get." "I hear that,--and here are ten dollars for the pastor." "Is there anything else?" asked the pastor, he looked at Thord. "Nothing else." Thord went. Eight years more passed by, and so one day the pastor heard a noise without his door, for many men were there, and Thord first among them. The pastor looked up and recognised him: "You come with a powerful escort to-night."