“In God’s name!” said Lady Aashild.—“I will help you and her as best I may. I can see it well: not long could Kristin bear to live there with her father and mother, hiding such a thing as this.—Is there yet more?” she asked of a sudden. “Not that I have heard,” said Erlend shortly. “Have you bethought you,” asked the lady in a while, “that Kristin has friends and kinsmen dwelling all down the Dale?” “We must journey as secretly as we can,” said Erlend. “And therefore it behooves us to make no delay in setting out, that we may be well on the way before her father comes home. You must lend us your sleigh, Moster.” Aashild shrugged her shoulders: “Then is there her uncle at Skog—what if he hear that you are holding your wedding with his brother’s daughter at Gerdarud?” “Aasmund has spoken for me to Lavrans,” said Erlend. “He would not be privy to our counsels, but ’tis like he will wink an eye—we must come to the priest by night, and journey onward by night. And afterward, I trow well Aasmund will put it to Lavrans that it befits not a God-fearing man like him to part them that a priest has wedded—and that ’twill be best for him to give his consent, that we may be lawful wedded man and wife. And you must say the like to the man, Moster. He may set what terms he will for atonement between us, and ask all such amends as he deems just.” “I trow Lavrans Björgulfsön will be no easy man to guide in this matter,” said Lady Aashild. “And God and St. Olav know, sister’s son, I like this business but ill. But I see well ’tis the last way left you to make good the harm you have wrought Kristin. To-morrow will I ride myself to Jörundgaard, if so be you will lend me one of your men, and I must get Ingrid of the croft above us here to see to my cattle.” * * * * * Lady Aashild came to Jörundgaard next evening just as the moonlight was struggling with the last gleams of day. She saw how pale and hollow-cheeked Kristin was, when the girl came out into the courtyard to meet her guest. The Lady sat by the fireplace playing with the two children. Now and then she stole keen glances at Kristin, as she went about and set the supper-board. Thin she was truly, and still in her bearing. She had ever been still, but it was a stillness of another kind that was on the girl now. Lady Aashild guessed at all the straining and the stubborn defiance that lay behind. “’Tis like you have heard,” said Kristin, coming over to her, “what befell here this last autumn.” “Aye—that my sister’s son has made suit for you.” “Mind you,” asked Kristin, “how you said once he and I would match well together? Only that he was too rich and great of kin for me?” “I hear that Lavrans is of another mind,” said the lady drily. There was a gleam in Kristin’s eyes, and she smiled a little. She will do, no question, thought Lady Aashild. Little as she liked it, she must hearken to Erlend, and give the helping hand he had asked.