But it had other consequences. The little town was no longer a quiet town, the Fisher Girl had put it in commotion. The strangest rumours were set afloat,--arising from angry jealousy at her having been able to win to herself the best head in the place, and its two wealthiest matches, besides having several in the background; for Gunnar had grown by degrees into "several young men." Soon there arose a general moral storm. The disgrace of a great street brawl, and sorrow in three of the best families rested on the head of the young girl who had been but half a year confirmed; three engagements at one time, and one of them with her teacher,--her life's benefactor! Indignation might well boil up. Had she not been, from a child, an annoyance to the town, and for all that, had she not had its expectancy manifested in gifts when Odegaard took her up, and had she not now scorned them all, crushed him, and following the instincts of her nature, thrown herself recklessly on a course that would lead to her being an outcast from society, with the gaol for old age? The mother must have been to blame too; in her sailors' house the child had learnt to be giddy. They would no longer bear the yoke that Gunlaug laid upon them, they would no longer tolerate them, neither mother nor daughter, they would unite to drive them away. One night a crowd gathered on the bank; there were sailors, who owed Gunlaug money, drunken labourers, for whom she would not procure work, young lads, to whom she would not give credit, and the better class in the back ground. They whistled, they shouted, they called for The Fisher Girl, for Fisher Gunlaug; by and bye a stone was thrown against the door, then another in at the attic window. They did not go away until after midnight. Behind the windows all was dark and still. The next day not a soul looked in to Gunlaug, not even a child went past, up the hill. But at night the same riot again, only that now all were there without distinction. They broke all the windows, they tore up the garden, and trampled down the shrubs, they threw the young fruit trees about, and then they sang:-- Mother, I've fished up a sailor, oh! "Ah! have you so?" Mother, I've fished up a merchant, oh! "Ah! have you so?" Mother, I've fished up a pastor's son "The best you've won!" Ah! ding dong, The nose grows long.[1] Great fishes may bite, but what is the gain, If into the basket, they ne'er can be ta'en!