“You are right,” said he. “I must try to let you be, Kristin,—not to put your happiness in such jeopardy. If you will—” She threw her arms around him and laughed, but he caught her round the waist, forced her down upon a bench and seated himself on the further side of the board. When she stretched her hand over to him, he covered the palm with vehement kisses: “I have tried more than you,” said he with passion. “You know not, how much I deem it means for both of us, that we should be wed with all honour—” “Then you should not have made me yours—” said Kristin. Erlend hid his face in his hands. “Aye, would to God I had not done you that wrong,” he said. * * * * * “Neither you nor I wish that,” said Kristin, laughing boldly. “And if I may but be forgiven and make my peace at last with my kindred and with God, then shall I not sorrow overmuch though I must wear the woman’s hood when I am wed. Aye, and often it seems to me, I could do without peace even, if only I may be with you.” “You shall bring honour with you into my house once more,” said Erlend, “not I drag _you_ down into dishonour.” Kristin shook her head. Then she said: “’Tis like you will be glad then, when you hear that I have talked with Simon Andressön—and he will not hold me to the pact that was made for us by our fathers before I met you.” At once Erlend was wild with joy, and Kristin was made to tell him all. Yet she told not of the scornful words Simon had spoken of Erlend, though she said that before Lavrans he would not take the blame upon himself. “’Tis but reason,” said Erlend shortly. “They like each other well, your father and he? Aye, me he will like less, I trow—Lavrans.” Kristin took these words as a sign that Erlend felt with her she had still a hard road to travel ere yet they reached their journey’s end; and she was thankful to him for it. But he did not come back to this matter; he was glad above measure, saying he had feared so that she would not have courage to speak with Simon. “You like him after a fashion, I mark well,” said he. “Can it be aught to you,” asked Kristin,“—after all that has come and gone between you and me, that I can see that Simon is an honest man and a stout.” “Had you never met me,” said Erlend, “you might well have had good days with him, Kristin. Why laugh you?” “Oh, I did but call to mind somewhat Lady Aashild said once,” answered Kristin. “I was but a child then—but ’twas somewhat about good days falling to wise folk, but the best days of all to those who dare be unwise.” “God bless my kinswoman, if she taught you that,” said Erlend and took her upon his knee. “’Tis strange, Kristin, never have I marked that you were afraid.” “Have you never marked it?” she asked as she nestled close to him. He seated her on the bed-side and drew off her shoes, but then drew her back again to the table.