few words to another about answering loudly and distinctly, and
meanwhile worked his way along to the poor-box, where Oyvind stood
answering all the questions of his friend Hans in reference to his
journey.

"Good-day, Oyvind. How fine you look to-day!" He took him by the
jacket collar as if he wished to speak to him. "Listen. I believe
everything good of you. I have been talking with the priest; you will
be allowed to keep your place; go up to number one and answer
distinctly!"

Oyvind looked up at him amazed; the school-master nodded; the boy took
a few steps, stopped, a few steps more, stopped again: "Yes, it surely
is so; he has spoken to the priest for me,"--and the boy walked swiftly
up to his place.

"You are to be number one, after all," some one whispered to him.

"Yes," answered Oyvind, in a low voice, but did not feel quite sure yet
whether he dared think so.

The assignment of places was over, the priest had come, the bells were
ringing, and the people pouring into church. Then Oyvind saw Marit
Heidegards just in front of him; she saw him too; but they were both so
awed by the sacredness of the place that they dared not greet each
other. He only noticed that she was dazzlingly beautiful and that her
hair was uncovered; more he did not see. Oyvind, who for more than
half a year had been building such great plans about standing opposite
her, forgot, now that it had come to the point, both the place and her,
and that he had in any way thought of them.