everything new, and all was well cared for, his mother said. He was
exceedingly pleased with his little room. He would remain at home for
the present, he said,--help with the hay-making, and study. Where he
should go later he did not know; but it made not the least difference
to him. He had acquired a briskness and vigor of thought which it did
one good to see, and an animation in the expression of his feelings
which is so refreshing to a person who the whole year through strives
to repress his own. The school-master grew ten years younger.

"Now we have come _so far_ with him," said he, beaming with
satisfaction as he rose to go.

When the mother returned from waiting on him, as usual, to the
door-step, she called Oyvind into the bedroom.

"Some one will be waiting for you at nine o'clock," whispered she.

"Where?"

"On the cliff."

Oyvind glanced at the clock; it was nearly nine. He could not wait in
the house, but went out, clambered up the side of the cliff, paused on
the top, and looked around. The house lay directly below; the bushes
on the roof had grown large, all the young trees round about him had
also grown, and he recognized every one of them. His eyes wandered
down the road, which ran along the cliff, and was bordered by the
forest on the other side. The road lay there, gray and solemn, but the
forest was enlivened with varied foliage; the trees were tall and well
grown. In the little bay lay a boat with unfurled sail; it was laden